Agents of the Glass by Michael D. Beil

and around the circumference were engraved the first letter of each of the eight qualities. Mrs. Cardigan pushed a loop of simple black cord through a hole in the glass, pushed the other end through the loop, and pulled it tight.
    “Yes, it’s what you think it is,” said Silas. “We call it Lucian Glass. That is one of the original pieces, found by him in the church ruins.”
    “I want you to have it, Andy,” said Mrs. Cardigan.
    Andy stared at it for a few seconds, mesmerized, before gently reaching for it. He held it in the palm of his hand as if it were as fragile as a robin’s egg.
    “Don’t be afraid of it,” said Silas. “It’s already survived an earthquake, fifty years of bouncing around on the rocks in the North Sea, and more than eight centuries in the service of the Agency. You’re not going to break it.”
    “But you must take great care with it,” said Mr. Nakahara. “There is a…limited supply. You see, this particular shade of blue has never been duplicated. It was made by an unknown glassmaker, using a method, or a formula, that has been lost to time. Have you told him about Abeniz Caiotte? The legend?”
    “Is that the guy in the glass coffin?” Andy asked. “The one who stole all the glass from the churches?”
    “That’s the one,” said Silas. “You have a good memory.”
    “So, w-why are you giving this to me?” He held it up to the light, rubbing the worn surfaces between his fingers.
    “You asked how we came to these positions,” said Mrs. Cardigan, tugging on the cord around her neck to reveal a slightly larger version of the glass in Andy’s hand—the same slightly irregular shape, the same strange blue color. “There’s something we left out. You see, not everyone has Brother Lucian’s gift. Only one person in a hundred thousand or so is able to use the Lucian Glass to identify people with the
lumen.
All of us—the Level 3 Agents, that is—have that ability. All these years later, we still don’t really know how it works, only that it does. And we don’t know for sure, but we…well, some of us, at least…believe that you may have the gift, Andy.”
    “Me? What…why do you think I can…” He held the sea glass up to the light and shook his head. “I don’t see anything. It just looks like ordinary glass to me.”
    Reza glanced across the table in Mr. Nakahara’s direction and then at Martin before speaking. “There are some things that we can’t tell you…not until we’ve had a chance to discuss them with the rest of the Level 3s. I hope you can trust us.”
    “If it makes you feel any better, I don’t know the answer to your question, either,” said Silas. “It has to be that way, sometimes.”
    “There are some rules about the glass,” said Martin. “Don’t go showing that thing around. You should wear it, but keep it secret. If anyone asks, it’s just a piece of beach glass that you picked up last summer in North Carolina.”
    “W-wouldn’t it be better if I just left it in its bag…at home?” Andy asked.
    “No doubt it would be safer there,” said Martin, “but you never know when you’ll need it—assuming that you actually are able to use it. Which I, for one, have my doubts about.”
    “Yes, we’re well aware of your concerns, Martin,” said Reza. “Now let’s get back to the business of Winter Neale. Silas, the next slide, please.”
    “I took this photograph six years ago at a friend’s wedding,” said Martin. “The bride is related to the Neales, and Winter was the flower girl; that’s her in the center of the picture. She was seven at the time and looked like a perfect angel, but something about her seemed…Well, I can’t explain it. And then I sneaked a peek at her through the glass. It was unlike anything I’d ever seen. And I’ve seen plenty.”
    “What was it?” Andy asked.
    “A textbook example of the
lumen lucidus.
I had to look a second time, because I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. It was the