Maria Snyder - Storm Glass

She sighed. “Call me Zitora. I shouldn’t expect respect if I haven’t earned it.”

“That’s not it.”

“What do you mean?”

Feeling as though I’d melted more glass than I could handle, I cast about for the right words. “You’ll always be Zitora to the students. You’re not…intimidating enough. You don’t have the stern demeanor of Master Jewelrose or the walking textbook wisdom of Master Bloodgood. You can require us to call you Master, but we don’t feel the title in our hearts.” Her annoyance deepened toward anger, so I hurried on. “But you’re…approachable. You’re someone to confide in, to go to when in trouble. I think if all the Masters were unapproachable, the campus environment would be stilted. Uncomfortable.”

When she didn’t say anything, I added, “But that’s my impression. I could be wrong.” I needed to learn to keep my mouth shut. The One-Trick Wonder telling a Master Magician about how she was perceived was as ill-advised as the Masters sending me to the Stormdance Clan to fix their orbs.

Without a word, Zitora spurred Sudi into a gallop. See? She was too nice to chastise me. Master Jewelrose would have sent me to scrub the kitchen floors for a week.

But, when we finally stopped to sleep in the early-morning hours, and as I tried to get comfortable on the hard shale covering the ground, I thought her choice of a stop-over site could be in retaliation for my comment.

Zitora remained by our small fire, but noticed me squirming in my blankets. “It’s all like this.” She gestured to the ground. “From here on out.”

“Like what?”

“Shale. Sheets and sheets of it. A few smooth places, others riddled with grooves or broken into gravel. All you’ll see under your feet is an ugly gray until we reach the coast. It’s called The Flats. No trees. A few bushes. Then…Well, The Cliffs before the sea are spectacular. Carved by wind and water, the piles of shale have been sculpted into beautiful shapes and bridges.”

She returned to staring at the fire. “Go to sleep, Opal. You need the rest.”

I was unable to keep my eyes open and too tired to question if she used magic on me.

For once, my overactive imagination and past memories didn’t invade my dreams.

My sleep remained blissful until a sharp point pricked my throat, waking me. Alarmed, I stared at a sword’s blade hovering mere inches from my chin. My gaze followed the long sharp weapon to its owner.

A person wearing a gray mask loomed over me.

“GET UP SLOWLY,”the man ordered. “No sudden moves. And keep your hands where I can see them.”

Hard to argue with an armed bandit. I sat and pushed my blankets off. The man stepped back as I stood. The tip of his sword dropped toward the ground, easing the iron vise of panic clamped around my heart. I released a shaky breath.

His shirt and pants were speckled with a variety of grays, black and white. His hood and mask matched the fabric of his clothes. Brilliant blue eyes stared back at me.

A laugh drew my attention to the right. Zitora was before three people who also wore gray camouflage. They pointed their swords at her. Interesting, she didn’t look so sweet now. Red splotches spread on her cheeks. Anger or fear, I couldn’t tell.

“This is it?” the man standing closest to Zitora asked in amazement. “The Council sends two students to help the Stormdance Clan? This is too good to be true!” He cackled. “What are you…seniors? No. Don’t tell me…you’re a novice.” He pointed his blade at me. “And you’re a senior.” The blade swung back to Zitora.

I had slept in my cloak and the weight of my sais underneath the garment pulled at my waist. She had insisted I stay armed at all times. Her sword rested on the ground nearby. I could reach through the slits in my cloak and draw my weapons.

I sought a signal from Zitora. Her pointed expression warned me to wait.

“What do you want?” Zitora asked.

“To stop you from helping the Stormdancers, but now I’m thinking of letting you go. You’ll probably do more harm than good.” The leader cackled again. His laugh grated on my nerves as if he gargled broken glass.

The man who woke me grabbed my hand. He showed my burn scars to the leader. “She is a glassmaker. We must stick to the plan.” Blue Eyes released my arm.

“Aww. I can’t kill two little girls,” the leader said.

The word kill caused a hot flush of fear to race through me.

“This one’s a magician,” a woman said, gesturing at Zitora.

“Is she too strong for you?” the leader mocked.

The woman stiffened. “We have her firmly in our control.” She glanced at the person next to her.

Through the haze of fear in my mind, I realized Zitora hadn’t moved more than her mouth since I woke.

“And here we were all ready for a big fight,” the leader said. “Brought the magicians, the muscle, the swordsman, expecting guards and Keep-trained magicians. Over kill for sure!” He laughed at his own joke.

Sweat rolled down my back at hearing kill again.

“Why do you want to stop us from helping the Stormdancers?” Zitora asked.

Anger reddened the leader’s ears. “We want them to—”

“Shut up,” Blue Eyes said. “The less said, the better. Finish the mission before we are discovered.”

Perhaps the cackler wasn’t the leader. An intelligent intensity radiated from Blue Eyes.

“We can take them along,” suggested the woman. “Ransom them.”

“No,” I said with force. My vehement outburst surprised me as much as our attackers. I would rather die than be a kidnap victim again.

“Last chance to tell us why you’re here,” Zitora said. Authority laced her tone.

Snickers answered her. Only Blue Eyes considered her words. His grip tightened on his sword.

“The benefit of appearing so young is I’m constantly underestimated.” Zitora raised her arms, warning me she would use her magic.

Breathing became difficult and fear stabbed my heart. Action would soon be needed. Could I fight or would I be too terrified to move?

This time the laughter didn’t sound. The magician gestured with alarm.

“Now,” Zitora ordered.

I yanked my sais from their holders as Blue Eyes lunged. With no time to think, I stepped in front of Zitora to protect her, blocking his sword. The ring of metal sounded as the strike vibrated through my arm.

He froze in place. The others rushed us, but when they reached Blue Eyes’ side, they were immobilized, as well, coming no closer to us.

“That was fun.” Strain vibrated in Zitora’s words as sweat beaded on her forehead.

“What? It’s over?” My body pumped with the need for action. I glanced between her and our attackers.

A tight grin flashed. “Perhaps being approachable isn’t so bad.”

“Do you have them all?” I asked.

“Yep, but now what?” She considered. “I can’t hold them long.”

To take control of four people’s bodies required a great deal of skill and power. Zitora trembled with the effort. Her strength impressed me. I knew it shouldn’t. She was Second Magician, after all. And Zitora’s best ability was being able to wrap magic around a person, keeping them immobile. Yet seeing her in action enlightened me.

“Opal…fetch the darts.” She huffed. “And vial…from my saddlebags.”

I rushed to comply and soon returned with four darts and a small bottle.

“Dip them…do you know?”

“It’s Curare.” The words croaked out. I swallowed what felt like a lump of sand. Curare was a powerful drug. It paralyzed the muscles in a person’s body for a full day and blocked the ability to use magic.