Storm Glass
Page 86
“Wouldn’t that be a few miles out of the way?” Ulrick asked.
“Yep. We’ll head straight east then turn north instead of going northeast.”
“Then—”
“Don’t worry.” Leif grinned widely. “You’ll find out soon enough.”
We stopped for the night in a travelers’ shelter, still within the Featherstone boundaries. No other travelers were inside. When Leif set a watch schedule, I asked for the last shift. My lack of sleep the previous night had caught up with me and I couldn’t even follow the conversation at dinner. I headed straight for bed. Ulrick volunteered for the first shift and Leif brought me my pack.
“Ugh. What’s in here? Rocks?” Leif asked.
“Glass.”
He raised his thick eyebrows, prompting me to continue.
“A bunch of spiders and bees. An empty orb.” It also contained Kade’s orb, but I was reluctant to tell him.
“Empty?”
“For an emergency only.”
“Scary.”
“Believe me, I know.” If attacked, would I use the orb to drain another’s power? Maybe, if there was no other option. One thing I did know, if Tricky lost his power when I had channeled his magic, I would not regret that.
The night remained quiet. Leif woke me a few hours before dawn.
“Your turn. Try not to wake everyone this time,” he said, yawning.
I swatted him and headed outside to check on the horses.
The darkness pressed down. Moist air blew through the trees, rattling the dead leaves. The wind had extinguished three of the lanterns. Flames clutched the other lamps in desperation, flapping in resistance with each gust. Clouds blocked the moon. Once my eyes adjusted, I checked the stable. Quartz dozed, leaning against Rusalka. Moonlight came over and nuzzled my hand, looking for a treat. The three horses shared one large stall.
Nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing to cause concern. So why did I feel watched? I circled the two buildings. An icy splat hit my forehead. I cried out in alarm and yanked my sais from my cloak. Another cold drop struck my cheek. Chagrined, I replaced my sais as the drizzle turned into a soaking rain fueled by the wind. I found a calm spot next to the shelter and pulled my hood over my head.
For the next two hours, I kept a diligent watch. The storm would be a great cover for anyone sneaking up. The wind swirled and diluted smells, moaning in sorrow. Why sorrow? The sound almost matched the keening emanating from Kade’s orb. As the storm approached, the orb’s song grew louder to me. No one else heard it, but Leif had remarked on sensing magic.
Kade told me the energy trapped inside the orb would get agitated when another storm came near. But the mournful sounds of the orb held no distress, just a lonely ache to be free.
My imagination no doubt. It tended to exaggerate emotions and see things that weren’t there. Just like the black shape slinking between shadows. Or the brief movement to my left—pure imagination. Right? I gripped the handles of my sais.
The storm raged for a moment, blocking out all sense of my surroundings. A sudden blast of wind extinguished the remaining lantern light.
Something struck me behind my knees. I fell forward as pain flared. Arms wrapped around me and a hand clamped over my mouth. Lifted off the ground, I yanked my sais from my cloak and blindly struck out. I was rewarded by one yelp before my arms were pinned.
I struggled. There had to be three or four of them. A sharp point jabbed the skin below my left ear.
“Quit fighting or I’ll shove my knife into your throat,” a man’s voice growled.
24
I STOPPED STRUGGLING.
“Smart choice,” the man said.
I didn’t recognize his voice, which gave me little comfort, considering my circumstances. The knife stayed against my throat, and the hand remained over my mouth. A wet dog smell emanated from him.
“I’ve got her. Go,” he ordered.
The men who held me put me down. They headed for the shelter. Leif and Ulrick slept within and I couldn’t warn them. Powerless, I counted five of them as they slipped inside. My own fear forgotten, I worried for my companions.
Although muted by the wind and rain, shouts, curses and the sounds of fighting reached me, I tensed. The knife dug deeper.
“Relax. It’ll all be over soon,” the man said.
The next few seconds moved as if we stood there for days. Five against two, but Leif had learned to fight from Valek. I cursed the storm’s wild winds. Otherwise the horses would have alerted us to the danger. And now the storm masked the noise of the attack, so the three horses huddled together without knowing the danger.
When one of the attackers signaled from the door, I knew Leif and Ulrick had lost.
“Told you. Let’s go.” He kept me with him as he guided me into the shelter.
Ulrick and Leif knelt by the hearth. Hands on their heads, various cuts bleeding on their arms and their spines stiff with anger.
Ulrick’s concern turned to relief when he saw me. “Are you all right?”
“No talking!” One of the four men guarding them hit Ulrick with the flat of his sword.
Ulrick winced with pain, but kept quiet. His helpless situation was all my fault. Leif was used to trouble, but not Ulrick. Mara’s comments replayed in my mind.
What if Ulrick died? her voice asked.
Guilt, of course, for bringing him along. Missing his smile and protective bearishness. Missing his company.
Regrets?
Wishing I hadn’t snapped at him in annoyance and had been more considerate. Wishing I had been a better guard.
“Yep. We’ll head straight east then turn north instead of going northeast.”
“Then—”
“Don’t worry.” Leif grinned widely. “You’ll find out soon enough.”
We stopped for the night in a travelers’ shelter, still within the Featherstone boundaries. No other travelers were inside. When Leif set a watch schedule, I asked for the last shift. My lack of sleep the previous night had caught up with me and I couldn’t even follow the conversation at dinner. I headed straight for bed. Ulrick volunteered for the first shift and Leif brought me my pack.
“Ugh. What’s in here? Rocks?” Leif asked.
“Glass.”
He raised his thick eyebrows, prompting me to continue.
“A bunch of spiders and bees. An empty orb.” It also contained Kade’s orb, but I was reluctant to tell him.
“Empty?”
“For an emergency only.”
“Scary.”
“Believe me, I know.” If attacked, would I use the orb to drain another’s power? Maybe, if there was no other option. One thing I did know, if Tricky lost his power when I had channeled his magic, I would not regret that.
The night remained quiet. Leif woke me a few hours before dawn.
“Your turn. Try not to wake everyone this time,” he said, yawning.
I swatted him and headed outside to check on the horses.
The darkness pressed down. Moist air blew through the trees, rattling the dead leaves. The wind had extinguished three of the lanterns. Flames clutched the other lamps in desperation, flapping in resistance with each gust. Clouds blocked the moon. Once my eyes adjusted, I checked the stable. Quartz dozed, leaning against Rusalka. Moonlight came over and nuzzled my hand, looking for a treat. The three horses shared one large stall.
Nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing to cause concern. So why did I feel watched? I circled the two buildings. An icy splat hit my forehead. I cried out in alarm and yanked my sais from my cloak. Another cold drop struck my cheek. Chagrined, I replaced my sais as the drizzle turned into a soaking rain fueled by the wind. I found a calm spot next to the shelter and pulled my hood over my head.
For the next two hours, I kept a diligent watch. The storm would be a great cover for anyone sneaking up. The wind swirled and diluted smells, moaning in sorrow. Why sorrow? The sound almost matched the keening emanating from Kade’s orb. As the storm approached, the orb’s song grew louder to me. No one else heard it, but Leif had remarked on sensing magic.
Kade told me the energy trapped inside the orb would get agitated when another storm came near. But the mournful sounds of the orb held no distress, just a lonely ache to be free.
My imagination no doubt. It tended to exaggerate emotions and see things that weren’t there. Just like the black shape slinking between shadows. Or the brief movement to my left—pure imagination. Right? I gripped the handles of my sais.
The storm raged for a moment, blocking out all sense of my surroundings. A sudden blast of wind extinguished the remaining lantern light.
Something struck me behind my knees. I fell forward as pain flared. Arms wrapped around me and a hand clamped over my mouth. Lifted off the ground, I yanked my sais from my cloak and blindly struck out. I was rewarded by one yelp before my arms were pinned.
I struggled. There had to be three or four of them. A sharp point jabbed the skin below my left ear.
“Quit fighting or I’ll shove my knife into your throat,” a man’s voice growled.
24
I STOPPED STRUGGLING.
“Smart choice,” the man said.
I didn’t recognize his voice, which gave me little comfort, considering my circumstances. The knife stayed against my throat, and the hand remained over my mouth. A wet dog smell emanated from him.
“I’ve got her. Go,” he ordered.
The men who held me put me down. They headed for the shelter. Leif and Ulrick slept within and I couldn’t warn them. Powerless, I counted five of them as they slipped inside. My own fear forgotten, I worried for my companions.
Although muted by the wind and rain, shouts, curses and the sounds of fighting reached me, I tensed. The knife dug deeper.
“Relax. It’ll all be over soon,” the man said.
The next few seconds moved as if we stood there for days. Five against two, but Leif had learned to fight from Valek. I cursed the storm’s wild winds. Otherwise the horses would have alerted us to the danger. And now the storm masked the noise of the attack, so the three horses huddled together without knowing the danger.
When one of the attackers signaled from the door, I knew Leif and Ulrick had lost.
“Told you. Let’s go.” He kept me with him as he guided me into the shelter.
Ulrick and Leif knelt by the hearth. Hands on their heads, various cuts bleeding on their arms and their spines stiff with anger.
Ulrick’s concern turned to relief when he saw me. “Are you all right?”
“No talking!” One of the four men guarding them hit Ulrick with the flat of his sword.
Ulrick winced with pain, but kept quiet. His helpless situation was all my fault. Leif was used to trouble, but not Ulrick. Mara’s comments replayed in my mind.
What if Ulrick died? her voice asked.
Guilt, of course, for bringing him along. Missing his smile and protective bearishness. Missing his company.
Regrets?
Wishing I hadn’t snapped at him in annoyance and had been more considerate. Wishing I had been a better guard.
