Maria Snyder - Storm Glass

The leader thrust them in my hand. “Do it.”

The resultant whoosh and flash distracted the men long enough for Leif and Ulrick to jump to their feet and snatch their weapons from the pile.

I broke all the glass. “Attack them,” I yelled to the three spiders and one bee that had been released, keeping the image of our ambushers in my mind.

The leader backed away as the bee flew toward him. Cries and yells sounded as chaos descended. Ulrick fought with his sword and Leif hacked with his machete. I dived for my cloak and pulled more spiders from a pocket. Breaking them open, I sent each one into the fight to add to the robbers’ confusion. A spider’s bite hurts, but doesn’t kill.

I pulled my sais, and checked where the leader had gone. Unfortunately, the Greenblade bee had stung him. His body convulsed on the floor as he died. I pushed the horrible image from my mind and engaged in the battle.

Swinging my sais, I knocked one man unconscious and trapped another’s sword long enough for Ulrick to disarm him. Within minutes the fight was over. The attackers surrendered.

Ulrick, Leif and I stood and stared at each other for a long moment.

Then Leif laughed. “Damn. For just a second, I thought you weren’t going to tell them about the spiders and had missed my hint. My heart actually ceased to beat.”

“I’m sorry for letting them through,” I said.

Leif waved the apology away. “You didn’t stand a chance. It was six against one, during a storm. I must have been tired to sleep through the rain. If I had known, I would have joined you. Here, hold this.” He handed me his machete. “Chop anyone that moves, I’ll contact the authorities.” Picking up his tree leopard, Leif stared into the glowing depths of the glass, sending out a message.

I moved closer to Ulrick. Two men had been knocked out, and three robbers huddled together and nursed the bleeding gashes and bite marks turning into red welts on their skin.

He glanced at me before returning his attention to the men. “Are you all right?”

I probed the wound on my neck with a finger. It throbbed. “I’ll live, but I wish Leif had healing powers.”

“Leif’s magic—”

“Useless in this case,” Leif said. “I could smell the foul things they’ve done, know they had no remorse for their actions, but couldn’t do a damn thing about it.” He rummaged in his saddlebags. “Ah, I do have one.” Firelight glinted off a vial of liquid. Leif dipped metal darts into the substance.

“Curare?” I asked.

“Yep. The closest town is Owl’s Hill. They’re sending guards, but it’ll be a while until they get here. I don’t want these guys following us.” He jabbed each one. “The town’s been getting reports about a gang of men robbing travelers. Called them the Storm Thieves.”

Leif checked the pulse on the leader and met my gaze. My guilt burned through my heart and I thought I should be arrested, too. He was dead because of me. The rationalization of kill or be killed was not a comfort—our situation hadn’t seemed that dire. A life gone. My first. Now I had a true regret.

“You saved lives with his death,” Leif said. “He reeks of blood. Killed many and captured women for his pleasure before leaving them to die. He was wanted for murder, a hanging offense.”

“But that is for a judge to decide. Not me.”

“And you decided he would die?”

“No, but—”

“It was my plan. Do you think I would have let you trick them into breaking open the bees, if I knew they would take what they wanted and go?”

“I—”

“Hadn’t thought of it that way? I smelled their intentions. You were part of their spoils and Ulrick and I were soon to be dead.” Leif returned to his bags and removed his water skin, a handful of leaves and a white roll. Pouring water into a pot, he crushed the leaves and sprinkled them in. “Sit,” he ordered me. “Those guys aren’t going anywhere and I want to clean your wound before it gets infected. Ulrick, heat the water.”

Stirring the fire to roaring life, Ulrick boiled the water. Leif’s ministrations caused my eyes to tear. The burning pain was worse than the knife as he rubbed an earthy-smelling goo into my cut. When Ulrick sat beside me, I clung to his hand.

“It’s deep, but the poultice should keep it clean until we reach Yelena. The mark on your cheek is just a scratch.” He wrapped a bandage around my neck.

“Why wait until we reach the Soulfinder?” Ulrick asked.

I explained about her healing abilities. “She could have saved my sister’s life, if Ferde hadn’t stolen Tula’s soul.”

“Only if she was there before Tula died,” Leif said. “Once the body dies, she won’t return the soul.”

“Why not?” he asked.

“The two people she ‘woke’ from the dead came back with different personalities. They obsessed about death and eventually killed themselves.” Leif finished tying the bandage. “Now, I’m depressed. Let’s get out of here before I start to cry.”

I checked on the horses as Leif and Ulrick gathered our supplies. The sky lightened, turning the darkness into a dreary gray fog. Rain and sleet continued to blow. Propelled by the wind, the chilly wetness soaked my cloak and reached my skin.

After a cold breakfast, we continued our journey east. As expected, the roads softened into muck that clung to the horses’ legs and filled their hooves. The storm followed us into the plains.

We stopped just past the border to clean the mud from the horses’ feet. The tall gold-brown stalks of the grass bowed under the weight of the rain. At least the ground remained firm. Spreading as far as I could see in the gloom, the plains’ terrain undulated as if it were a frozen sea. But then the scene shifted. It looked foreign. Hostile.

“We’re lost,” Ulrick said. He pulled his sword, glancing around him as if searching for attackers. “We must go back.”

I agreed. “We should leave. Now.” I peered around as my panic increased. Which way had we come? Which way was safe?

“Relax,” Leif said. “It’s just the Sandseed protection. Let me…” He drew in a breath and closed his eyes.

The landscape returned to a more benign setting. My conviction of being lost dissipated. “What did you do?”

“Introduced you to the Sandseed’s magic. Promised you would behave and not be a threat to them.”

“What happens if they think we’re a threat?” Ulrick asked.

“You don’t want to know,” Leif said.

“Bad?”

“Very bad.”

“How does the protection know you’re related?” I asked Leif.

“My blood. It can…smell it, and knows if I’m family or not.” He squinted into the rain. “We better get moving. I want to be in Fulgor by tomorrow afternoon.”

We mounted and Leif gave us a few instructions. “Follow my lead. Let your horses have control. And hold on!” He spurred Rusalka into a gallop.

Quartz and Moonlight raced after them.

Leif shouted, “Gust-of-wind.”

My world changed. The ground under Quartz’s hooves transformed into a river of sand. Streaks of color flowed by me. I no longer felt I rode on a horse, but was propelled by a wave of air. Quartz sliced through the pouring rain. Exhilaration and terror pulsed in my veins, blocking out all other thoughts. A heady sensation.

My world returned to normal when Leif stopped Rusalka. Quartz snorted and huffed as if she’d had a good run. Sweat darkened her coat. My cloak felt dry and we had outrun the storm. Sunlight painted the plains with wide swatches of yellows, golds, browns and reds.

“Do you want to stop and eat, or ride farther?” Leif asked.

“Ride.” I had no appetite. Memories of the Storm Thieves’ attack rushed into my mind. While Leif’s explanation had eased my heart-burning guilt over their leader’s death, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I should have ordered the bee not to sting. I hadn’t fully realized the consequences of these glass weapons. Packing them with vague thoughts of defense, I had never considered exactly what I would use them for and what the results would be. As if I had given a child a sword and didn’t tell him what would happen if he used it. It was irresponsible and dangerous.