“It’s working,” Boar said. He squeezed a rubber ball attached to the tube. Red liquid filled a glass container in his lap. “It’s slow.”
He untied the rope around my arm, and instructed Boar, “Use your healing magic, but instead of stopping the flow, encourage her blood to gush. Draw strength from me.” Tricky’s face creased with effort. He rubbed my arm. “Relax. It’ll be over in a minute. No pain. You’ll just go to sleep.”
I felt light-headed and realized he planned to suck me dry. I couldn’t just lie here and let him. Fuzzy thoughts tried to plan. Glass container. Rubber tubing. Lump in my spine—my switchblade.
Pulling the weapon from the small of my back, I yanked it free and triggered the blade. Snick. Tricky’s gaze switched to my right hand. I jabbed him in the shoulder before he could draw power. He scrambled back in surprise, dropping the tube. I scooped up a handful of glass—spiders and a bee—crushing them.
The noise and flash stunned Boar for a second. Recovering, he gained his feet, cradling the container of my blood. The two other guards rushed toward me with their weapons drawn, but I pointed to the single Greenblade bee, hovering in midair. “Stop right there!”
They paused next to Boar. “Tricky, help,” Len cried.
No response. Tricky didn’t move. A lesson I learned from Yelena—treating my blade with Curare.
“Give me the jar,” I said.
“Aubin!”
A blur of motion and a knife skewered the bee. It fell to the ground, too heavy to fly. I ordered my spiders to attack them. A moment of confusion created a distraction while I found another bee. I sent this one to break the jar, but the glass was too thick. My last bee hovered for a mere second before being impaled with a knife.
“Don’t move. Or the next one goes into your heart,” Aubin said, aiming a dagger at me. “Drop your weapons and keep your hands where I can see them.”
I released the spiders and turned my palms out.
“Boar, can we finish the job?” Aubin asked.
“Not without Tricky. My magic is too weak.”
“Give me the jar. Help Len carry Tricky.” Aubin tucked the container under his arm.
With Boar’s help, Len draped Tricky over his shoulder.
Aubin gestured to me with his knife. “Come.”
“No.” Tricky wanted me alive. They could harm me, but probably wouldn’t kill me until after he woke. I hoped his goons didn’t know how to counter Curare.
Aubin considered. “We can force you. You’ll be hurt.”
“Doesn’t matter.” I swept a hand out. “My companions will wake well before Tricky. You won’t be able to get far carrying him and dragging me along. Once they can move, you’ll have a Stormdancer and two powerful magicians after you. I’d give you a twenty-percent chance of living through the encounter.” I tapped my finger on my lips. “Hmm...I changed my mind.”
“You’ll come with us?” Aubin asked.
“No. I think twenty percent is too high. I forgot Curare doesn’t last as long on Stormdancers...something with the electrical charge in the atmosphere neutralizing the drug. I think a ten-percent chance of survival is more accurate. It is the storm season.”
I kept my gaze steady as Aubin studied me. Dizziness spun behind my eyes, but I ignored it.
“Then I’ll kill your companions so there is no need to worry about them following us.”
My heart flipped. I used every bit of energy to keep my voice calm. “Zero chance of survival.”
“Why?”
“One of the magicians is the brother of the Soulfinder. If she doesn’t scare you, then her heart mate, Valek, should. Not only is he the Commander’s assassin, but he’s immune to all magic. Plus, you’d have every Stormdancer after you, and the Master Magicians, as well.”
“Let’s just go,” Boar said. “We have enough blood.”
“We can’t leave her here. She’ll send her bees after us,” Aubin said.
Boar muttered and searched the ground. He found my sais and grasped them by the shafts. He strode toward me. “Do you know how to fight with these?”
Confused, I glanced at Aubin.
“Answer his question.”
“Yes,” I said.
“Do you know the soldier’s honor code for a fair fight?” Boar asked.
“No.”
He stepped closer and held the sais out. I automatically reached for the hilts, but he snatched them away.
“Neither do I.” Boar swung one of the sais, aiming at my temple.
* * *
Pain pulsed in my head, waking me. I shaded my eyes from the searing reflection of sunlight off the shale ground. My body ached and my arm stung. I stayed prone for a while, chasing fuzzy memories. When I remembered the attack, I scrambled upright, searching for Tricky and his goons.
No one except Kade, Leif, Skippy and the horses. They all remained paralyzed by Curare and would be immobile for another... I checked the sky. A few hours past dawn. From my unfortunate experience with the drug, I knew they would be incapacitated for almost a full day. At least my companions could hear, see, breathe and swallow.
A hiccuppy laugh bubbled. Kade and the others had heard the whole fight. I wondered what I would get in trouble for. Falling for Boar’s honor-code trick or for letting them get away with my blood.
I needed to focus before the shakes came or I passed out again. Stumbling over to Leif’s pack, I found the Theobroma lumps. The wind had died down and a few half-burnt branches had survived last night’s flames. One good thing about being unable to light fires with magic was I kept matches in my saddlebags.
I coaxed the meager firewood into a small blaze and melted the Theobroma. Once the brown liquid cooled enough not to burn skin, I spooned the antidote into each of my companion’s mouths, guessing how much was needed. For the horses, I coated my fingers with it and rubbed my hands on their tongues.
My arms shook by the time I finished. Shivers racked my body. I wrapped my blanket around me and lay next to Kade, pulling his blanket over us both.
* * *
Leif woke me an instant after I fell asleep. At least, that was how it felt to me. I blinked in the light, cursing the brightness. My heavy limbs refused to move. I didn’t have enough energy to stand.
“Drink this,” Leif said.
He tipped a mug toward my lips. A foul-smelling liquid sloshed. I tried to pull away, but he put his hand under my head, dripping the yellow substance into my mouth.
“Swallow or I’ll hold your nose closed until you do,” Leif threatened.
I gulped and winced. It tasted like dirty wash water.
“It will help your body produce more blood. Make you feel stronger so we can get off this horrid rock and down to the soft sands of the beach.”
“Go on without me,” I shooed halfheartedly. “It’s not like you need me to save you or anything... Oh, wait. I did save you.”
“And you took your sweet time, too. Although I give you major bonus points for your...ah...very creative arguments about why they shouldn’t kill us.”
I shivered at the memory as Leif urged me to gulp more of his potion.
“I meant it, don’t let me keep you from the beach.”
“Nice try, but you’re going to drink all of this. Besides, if I tried to leave, a certain Stormdancer would probably zap me with lightning.”
“Where is Kade?” I sat up, feeling better.
Leif looked past my shoulder. “Walking the horses. They weren’t happy about being paralyzed. Once we calmed them, they let Kade work off their stiffness.” He met my gaze. “I’m sorry, Opal. We should have posted guards, but I thought the horses would warn us of any intruders. I never thought someone would use Curare on them.”
“Curare plus the wind. Tricky’s gang probably
stayed downwind where they couldn’t smell them.”
“I notified the authorities in Thunder Valley with my messenger. Hopefully they’ll be caught, but we should take you home—”
“No. I’d love to chase them down, but the Stormdancers need orbs.”
“What if they come back?”
“They won’t. Tricky has what he came for.” And the spread of blood magic continued. For now. I would stop it. I promised.
“What happens when he runs out of your blood?” Leif asked.
“We’ll use me as bait and go fishing.”
“I’m serious, Opal.”
“So am I.”
Of course, my bravado didn’t last long. When Kade arrived with the horses, I wanted to melt into his arms and forget the whole nightmare. He held me in a tight embrace.
“You did well last night,” he said with pride in his voice. “I wanted to shout with joy when you regained consciousness. Until then...” His body stiffened as he struggled to find the right words. “Until then, it was hell. Not as bad as watching you be tortured by Devlen, but rather horrible. And here I’ve feared null shields, not knowing that...this...Curare is a million times worse.”
I agreed and Kade stepped back to search my face.
“You’ve been hit by it, too?” he asked.
I realized Kade didn’t know much about my history. Every time we were together we had a specific problem to deal with. Since he had returned from Ixia, we hadn’t spent too much time talking.
“Yes. Unfortunately, I have a lot of experience with Curare.”
“When?”
“It’s a long story. I’ll tell you later.” I leaned against him.
He wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “Will the...strangeness go away? I can use my magic, but I still feel vulnerable. Fragile.”
“That’s the antidote,” I explained. “Theobroma opens a person’s mind to magical influences and destroys a magician’s mental defenses.” I gestured to Leif and Skippy. “If a weaker magician like Tricky attacked them now, they wouldn’t be able to counter him. It doesn’t last as long as Curare. You should be fine by nightfall.”
“Is it true Curare works differently for Stormdancers?”
“No. I lied to them, hoping to give them an incentive to leave without killing anyone.” I hugged my arms to my chest. Tricky’s goons had just started using blood magic, and hadn’t reached the point when the all-consuming desire to gain magical power overruled logic. Otherwise, they would have killed without a second thought.
“Opal,” Leif called. He crouched next to the remains of the fire.
I joined him.
He pointed to the two Greenblade bees. “They look like good knives, but I’m not crazy enough to pull them out.”
Interesting. The bees were dead, but hadn’t disappeared. I reviewed last night’s attack and realized I hadn’t given them a task.
“Rest in peace,” I said. The knives clattered to the ground. Their clean blades shone in the sunlight.
“And I thought Yelena had eccentric powers,” Leif said. “Finding lost souls seems normal compared to commanding dead bees.”
“Not funny.” I collected the glass spiders that had been scattered during the fight and found my sais. “Have you seen any of my bees?”
“After Boar knocked you unconscious, Aubin ordered him to take them.”
“Why? They can’t use them.”
Leif picked up Aubin’s weapons and stood. “I’m guessing Aubin has excellent knife-throwing skills. It’s a good way to attack from a distance and to attack without being seen. Just like your bees.” He met my gaze. “Just how far can your bees travel? Could they find someone out of sight?”
“I don’t know.”
“Neither does anyone else. Theoretically, you could send a bee to assassinate the Commander in Ixia without leaving the Keep. Valek would no longer be the most infamous assassin. Perhaps Aubin was on to something.”
As Leif’s words sunk in, fingers of ice brushed my skin. I had used my spiders and bees for self-defense, never once considering other possibilities. Why? As Devlen had said, I was too nice. If I wanted to stop Tricky and blood magic, I needed to start thinking like them.
* * *
Quartz seemed more than happy to continue our journey. We arrived at the top of The Cliffs by midafternoon. A hundred-and-fifty-foot drop-off ended at a sandy beach. Waves capped with white foam crashed along the shoreline and around the strips of rocks, pointing toward the horizon. Sunlight glittered on the sea’s blue-green surface.
The tangy smell of the salt water reached us. I inhaled a deep breath. No matter how strong the storm, I would always feel safe here. The cries and squawks of seabirds combined with the shushing of the waves—a welcoming sound.
“You have got to be kidding me,” Leif said.
Mounted on Moonlight, Kade waited for the rest of us to join him at the start of the trail.
“That’s not a path, that’s...suicide.” Leif hunched over his saddle. “That’s not wide enough to fit a sheep, let alone a full-grown horse.”
“The horses fit fine,” Kade said. “We use them to haul supplies to the caverns.”
“Caverns?” Skippy asked. His pale face reflected his queasiness. He hadn’t said more than two words since last night’s attack.
“You’ll see.” I dismounted. “Unless you’re a Stormdancer or a mountain goat, it’s better to walk down. Concentrate on the trail and don’t look past the edge. Go on, Kade. We’ll meet you on the beach.”
He clicked his tongue, urging Moonlight down the steep path. Show-off. Good thing Sandseed horses refused to wear shoes or else he would have skated the whole way at that speed.
I glanced at Beryl’s hooves. “You better go last. In case she slides.”
“Slides?” Skippy turned whiter.
Since I was the only one with experience, I led the rest. The trail snaked back and forth, cutting through ripples in the rock face. Wind and water had sculpted The Cliffs. Wings of rock jutted and caves pockmarked the wall. The path crossed natural bridges and skirted around columns.
When we reached the beach, Leif fell to his knees with a dramatic cry. “Solid ground! I’ll never take you for granted again.”
“Are you going to kiss the sand?” I asked.
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Now I’m the one being silly?”
“Yes.”
I led them to the beach stable. Made of bamboo and thatch, the stable could house five horses. Kade rubbed down Moonlight.
Skippy scanned the building. “You were serious about the horses swimming.”
Kade snorted. “If a storm approaches, we’ll take the horses up to the storm cave. For now, it’s more comfortable down here.”
When everyone had unsaddled their horses and settled them in stalls, I showed them the main cavern the Stormdancers used. Big and bright with lanterns, it was at beach level. Raiden stirred the contents of a large pot over a cook fire. Various people lounged about on cots or chairs, but a woman and man jerked to their feet when they saw us approach.
“’Bout time,” Raiden said. He straightened and shook hands with Leif and Skippy. His skin had tanned to a rich brown and more gray flecked his short black hair. The wrinkles on his face were a lighter tan color as if he always squinted while in the sun.
“A wide-brimmed hat would help with that raccoon look,” I teased. Even though I knew his age to be around forty, he appeared a lot older than the last time I visited. Perhaps the stress of the glassmakers’ murders and having his strongest Stormdancer kidnapped had aged him.
“At least I don’t look like a ghost,” he said. He beckoned to the couple hovering nearby. “This is Ziven and Zetta, brother-and-sister glassmakers. And—come on, you lazy bums—our
other Stormdancers, Prin, Wick and Tebbs.”
Another round of introductions was made. The Stormdancers didn’t bother to shake our hands. They waved hello from their seats. I knew Prin and Wick. Prin matched my size and age, though her silver-colored eyes gave her an exotic air. Bearded and burly, Wick grunted a greeting.
Tebbs had pulled her brown hair into an intricate knot on top of her head. Her gaze swept us with sharp interest, but she glanced away as if bored when I tried to make eye contact. She appeared to be near Heli’s age of sixteen, but she acted like an older woman, copying Prin’s mannerisms and gestures.
“Where’s Heli?” I asked Raiden. Heli’s youth and enthusiasm tended to energize those around her.
“Out searching the beach for treasure,” he said.
“Treasure?” Leif asked.
“What Heli considers treasure.” Raiden sighed. “Shells, odd driftwood shapes, stones and coral. Her cave is full of junk.”
“She has a few beautiful pieces,” I said in her defense.
Raiden snorted and returned to his stew. The smell of steamed clams wafted from the pot. Leif wrinkled his nose, but couldn’t resist following Raiden to peek under the lid.
The glassmakers talked to Kade. I joined them, much to Zetta’s dismay. She shot me an annoyed frown and a warning flared in her brown eyes. Kade, however, made room for me.
“...just need the sand recipe and we should have melt by tomorrow,” Ziven said. His black hair had been twisted into long ropes that hung over his shoulders and back.
“Then the kiln is hot?” I asked.
He glanced at Kade as if seeking approval.
“Opal is our glass-and-orb expert,” Kade said. “She knows the proper sand mixture and will instruct you on how to proceed.”
Zetta’s ill humor deepened into outrage. “She’s not a Stormdance Clan member. It violates all traditions that she knows the secret recipe.”
Zetta’s hair matched the length of her brother’s except she had small braids instead of ropes. Colorful beads decorated the ends of the braids. The beads clicked together when she jerked her head.
Kade stared at her until she calmed. “Opal figured out the sand recipe just by examining the mix. Can either of you do that?”
Sea Glass Page 19
