Sea Glass
Page 53
“Aside from any more Council-ordered tests, you won’t be in any danger.”
I’d heard that before. “It doesn’t hurt to be prepared.” I closed the knife.
“It won’t do much against a sword.”
“I know. But it’d be great against a null shield net.”
He flinched, conceding the point. “I’m done.” He pointed to his backpack. “I filled Moonlight’s saddlebags with feed and a few camping supplies in case we can’t find a travel shelter.” He stretched and yawned. “Once you’re packed, we’ll be ready.”
I dreaded packing. I’d rather be crawling into bed with Kade.
He sensed my reluctance. “Do you want help?”
“How about I just buy everything I need on the road and skip this?”
“You must get a generous student stipend.”
I didn’t. In fact, I had spent my last gold coin for the knife and picks. All I had left were a few silver coins, which should be enough to get me to the coast and back. Dragging the saddlebags to my armoire, I sorted through my clothes while Kade watched from the bed.
The next morning, we saddled the horses while the Stable Master muttered and fussed. Skippy scowled. I knew he wasn’t happy about the trip, but he refrained from complaining. He only snapped at me once, when I checked over his supplies.
“How many trips have you taken to The Cliffs?” I asked him. No reply. “My point. You’re going to need your cloak. If the breeze is coming off the sea, it’ll be cold.”
“We do have fire pits, Opal,” Kade said. “I think the sea breeze is refreshing. Not everyone hates the cold,” he teased.
“I’m not fond of it, either,” Leif said behind me.
I jerked.
“Sorry.” Leif’s smirk countered his apology. He dropped his saddlebags on the ground. “Do you want to check my supplies, too? I packed my stuffed bear and wool undergarments. Do you think I’ll be warm enough?”
Ignoring his joke, I asked, “Are you coming with us?”
“Wouldn’t miss it.”
I studied his neutral expression. “Did the Council order you?”
“Nope. I volunteered. Especially since a certain Stormdancer sent me my own personal thunderstorm.” Leif shot Kade a pointed glare.
Kade busied himself with adjusting the stirrups.
“Mara hasn’t given me any peace because of a certain bigmouthed dancer, so I figured I’d come along,” Leif said. “Here, this is from Master Bloodgood.” He pulled a leather sack from his bags and swung it at me.
I caught it and pulled it open, pouring my glass spiders and bees into my hand. Sunlight glinted from the pile. “No orb?”
“Not yet. Bain said the Council can only handle one step at a time.”
Fair enough. “Since you’re coming, does that mean Skippy can stay here?” I asked, trying not to let hope taint my voice.
“No,” Skippy said. “I’m still your Council-approved guardian.”
Guardian. Interesting word choice. “What about Jon or…the other guy?”
“They’re the relief. The responsibility is mine.” He puffed his chest a bit.
“So if you lose me during the trip, you’ll get in trouble?” I tried to tease him, but his reaction remained cold.
“You won’t lose me.”
Leif snickered. “Hale always had delusions of grandeur even in school.”
“Better than a goof-off with bizarre powers,” Skippy retorted.
I guessed they had attended the Keep together.
Leif grinned. “Bizarre is always better than boring. Always. However, your confidence of not losing Opal is misplaced. I’m sure you would try very hard, but if she took Quartz into the Avibian Plains, you’d lose more than her.”
“That’s ridiculous. She wouldn’t go in there. It’s suicide.”
“That’s a nice mare you have there, Hale. What’s her name?” Leif asked.
Confused by the change in subject, he said, “Beryl.”
“She’s well bred and in perfect health.” Leif ran a hand along her neck. Her brown mane and tail matched the small brown specks splashed all over her tan coat. “But she’s not a Sandseed horse like Quartz or Moonlight. They’re welcome in the plains anytime and it doesn’t matter who is on their back. They even have their own special gait while there that would leave poor Beryl behind in a cloud of dust.” Leif clucked his tongue.
“Special gait?” Kade asked.
“Ah, yes! Their gust-of-wind gait, which you need to experience sometime.” He poked Kade in the arm. “Maybe after I pay you back for ratting me out to Mara.”
The Stable Master returned from the pasture. “Get moving, you’re burning daylight! And, even worse, you’re in my way.”
Leif retrieved his saddle from the tack room and whistled for Rusalka.
A russet-and-white horse jumped the pasture’s fence.
“All the Sandseed horses can do that,” Leif said. “Kiki can even unlatch the door to her stall.”
Skippy huffed in annoyance and led Beryl outside to wait for us.
“You’re a horse snob, Leif,” I said.
“I like messing with Mr. Perfect.” He secured his bags and put a bridle on Rusalka.
Kade watched him. “Why don’t the Sandseed horses run away?”
“’Cause they’re spoiled rotten. We groom them, feed them and shelter them. They can’t get that in the wild. They choose to stay with us and even give us pet names when they first meet us.”
I’d heard that before. “It doesn’t hurt to be prepared.” I closed the knife.
“It won’t do much against a sword.”
“I know. But it’d be great against a null shield net.”
He flinched, conceding the point. “I’m done.” He pointed to his backpack. “I filled Moonlight’s saddlebags with feed and a few camping supplies in case we can’t find a travel shelter.” He stretched and yawned. “Once you’re packed, we’ll be ready.”
I dreaded packing. I’d rather be crawling into bed with Kade.
He sensed my reluctance. “Do you want help?”
“How about I just buy everything I need on the road and skip this?”
“You must get a generous student stipend.”
I didn’t. In fact, I had spent my last gold coin for the knife and picks. All I had left were a few silver coins, which should be enough to get me to the coast and back. Dragging the saddlebags to my armoire, I sorted through my clothes while Kade watched from the bed.
The next morning, we saddled the horses while the Stable Master muttered and fussed. Skippy scowled. I knew he wasn’t happy about the trip, but he refrained from complaining. He only snapped at me once, when I checked over his supplies.
“How many trips have you taken to The Cliffs?” I asked him. No reply. “My point. You’re going to need your cloak. If the breeze is coming off the sea, it’ll be cold.”
“We do have fire pits, Opal,” Kade said. “I think the sea breeze is refreshing. Not everyone hates the cold,” he teased.
“I’m not fond of it, either,” Leif said behind me.
I jerked.
“Sorry.” Leif’s smirk countered his apology. He dropped his saddlebags on the ground. “Do you want to check my supplies, too? I packed my stuffed bear and wool undergarments. Do you think I’ll be warm enough?”
Ignoring his joke, I asked, “Are you coming with us?”
“Wouldn’t miss it.”
I studied his neutral expression. “Did the Council order you?”
“Nope. I volunteered. Especially since a certain Stormdancer sent me my own personal thunderstorm.” Leif shot Kade a pointed glare.
Kade busied himself with adjusting the stirrups.
“Mara hasn’t given me any peace because of a certain bigmouthed dancer, so I figured I’d come along,” Leif said. “Here, this is from Master Bloodgood.” He pulled a leather sack from his bags and swung it at me.
I caught it and pulled it open, pouring my glass spiders and bees into my hand. Sunlight glinted from the pile. “No orb?”
“Not yet. Bain said the Council can only handle one step at a time.”
Fair enough. “Since you’re coming, does that mean Skippy can stay here?” I asked, trying not to let hope taint my voice.
“No,” Skippy said. “I’m still your Council-approved guardian.”
Guardian. Interesting word choice. “What about Jon or…the other guy?”
“They’re the relief. The responsibility is mine.” He puffed his chest a bit.
“So if you lose me during the trip, you’ll get in trouble?” I tried to tease him, but his reaction remained cold.
“You won’t lose me.”
Leif snickered. “Hale always had delusions of grandeur even in school.”
“Better than a goof-off with bizarre powers,” Skippy retorted.
I guessed they had attended the Keep together.
Leif grinned. “Bizarre is always better than boring. Always. However, your confidence of not losing Opal is misplaced. I’m sure you would try very hard, but if she took Quartz into the Avibian Plains, you’d lose more than her.”
“That’s ridiculous. She wouldn’t go in there. It’s suicide.”
“That’s a nice mare you have there, Hale. What’s her name?” Leif asked.
Confused by the change in subject, he said, “Beryl.”
“She’s well bred and in perfect health.” Leif ran a hand along her neck. Her brown mane and tail matched the small brown specks splashed all over her tan coat. “But she’s not a Sandseed horse like Quartz or Moonlight. They’re welcome in the plains anytime and it doesn’t matter who is on their back. They even have their own special gait while there that would leave poor Beryl behind in a cloud of dust.” Leif clucked his tongue.
“Special gait?” Kade asked.
“Ah, yes! Their gust-of-wind gait, which you need to experience sometime.” He poked Kade in the arm. “Maybe after I pay you back for ratting me out to Mara.”
The Stable Master returned from the pasture. “Get moving, you’re burning daylight! And, even worse, you’re in my way.”
Leif retrieved his saddle from the tack room and whistled for Rusalka.
A russet-and-white horse jumped the pasture’s fence.
“All the Sandseed horses can do that,” Leif said. “Kiki can even unlatch the door to her stall.”
Skippy huffed in annoyance and led Beryl outside to wait for us.
“You’re a horse snob, Leif,” I said.
“I like messing with Mr. Perfect.” He secured his bags and put a bridle on Rusalka.
Kade watched him. “Why don’t the Sandseed horses run away?”
“’Cause they’re spoiled rotten. We groom them, feed them and shelter them. They can’t get that in the wild. They choose to stay with us and even give us pet names when they first meet us.”
