Shattered Glass

by Maria V. Snyder

  “Nic and Eve?”

  “They will meet you at Horseshoe at dawn.”

  “Thank you.” I press a kiss to his temple.

  He laces his fingers in mine and pulls me onto his lap. Heat burns in his gaze. “You can do better than that.”

  A sizzle zips through my body. “You’d rather a proper thank you?”

  “And a proper good-bye.”

  I lift an eyebrow. “We haven’t had any sleep in over a day. Think you can handle it?”

  “Challenge accepted.”

  The speed with which he escorts me to our bedroom and removes our clothing leaves me breathless. Or is it due to seeing his muscular torso? He closes the distance between us and all thoughts disappear, replaced by the touch of skin against skin, of our breaths mingling as his lips capture mine, and his scent filling my world.

  After the heart slamming of the proper thank you, and the blood-on-fire of the proper good-bye, Devlen ensured I return home with a curl-my-hair promise to be extra careful. Exhausted and languid, I fall asleep wrapped in his arms.

  Mere seconds later—or so it seems—the door bangs open as Reema enters our room.

  “Soldiers are coming!” she says in alarm.

  Sleep clings to my thoughts with its sticky tentacles. “What?”

  “The soldiers. They’re coming for you, Mom.”

  “Now?” Devlen asks. He lights the lantern.

  “Soon.” She flings her arm out, drawing a circle in the air. “They’re waiting to surround the factory.”

  I’m wide awake in a heartbeat. “Do they mean to harm me?”

  “No. But they want to take you somewhere.”

  Devlen and I scramble to dress and arm ourselves just in case.

  “Reema, go to bed,” I say. “We’ll handle this.”

  She shakes her head. “You need me. I’ve a plan!”

  I pause and exchange a glance with Devlen.

  “What is your plan?” he asks.

  The words tumble out in a rush as Reema explains.

  Devlen, wearing pajama bottoms and with his hair sleep tousled stands near the front entrance. I give him a quick good-bye kiss.

  “Remember your promise,” he says, pulling me closer for another kiss.

  “There’s no way I’d forget.” I sling my pack on my back and shoulder my saddle bags. My weapons add more weight and I have an uncomfortable insight about how a pack mule must feel when loaded.

  A loud and strident pounding shakes the door—my signal to leave. It’s general knowledge that the glass factory occupies the ground floor and we live on the first floor. There’s the main access and a back door. What isn’t known—I hope—is the fact we bought the building next door a month ago and have built a hidden connecting door and an exit not visible from our street or the one behind us.

  As I cross into the next building, Devlen will wait an appropriate amount of time for someone who has just been woken from a deep sleep. He will lead the soldiers upstairs and call to me. Reema will make the appropriate noises of me getting dressed while Devlen delays them even longer. Reema assured us the soldiers won’t cause them harm once the gig was up—her words, not mine.

  I keep a hand on the wall as I traverse the dark and empty warehouse. We have plans to convert the space into apartments and a larger living area for our family. The apartment above the factory turns into an oven in the hot season.

  Peeking out the door, I scan for hidden soldiers. Nothing appears out of the ordinary, and I leave. With as much speed as I can muster with all my bags, I hurry to the Back Alley Stables and wake Quartz from a light doze. I saddle her in record time and mount.

  My imagination conjures the scene at the factory. Soldiers discovering the ruse, running down the stairs, calling to their colleagues to spread out and search for me. The drumming of imaginary boots on the ground echoes in my chest and fuels my desire to hurry. I ask Quartz to find a quick and quiet route to Nic’s apartment that avoids people.

  Since all Sandseed horses refuse to wear shoes, her passage over the uneven cobblestones is almost silent. And despite her size and coloring—reddish brown hair with patches of white, she melts into the shadows with ease when a group of soldiers hustles down a nearby street.

  Nic answers the door clutching his sword. He relaxes, letting the tip drift toward the floor. “Change of plans?” he asks.

  “Yes. Half the garrison is searching for me. I can’t stay in Fulgor. I’ll meet you and Eve at the border of the Avibian Plains.”

  “Okay. Watch out for barricades along the major routes out of town. They may already be in place.”

  Lovely. “Quartz should be able to avoid them.” Key word, should. “And you can trust your mounts to find the best way to the plains. Just make sure no one follows you.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  When I return to where I left Quartz, she’s gone.

  “Hands up! Now!” a voice behind me orders.

  Cold dread sweeps through me. I spread my arms to the sides, keeping them low as I turn. A few feet away, two soldiers aim swords at me. Youthful faces and a slight tremor in their arms mark them as rookies. Plus they left too much room between us. I could run away before they closed the distance. However, I see that I don’t need to run.

  “Down on your knees! Hands behind your head! Now!” the young man on the right shouts.

  “Not too hard,” I say, backing up.

  Their confusion turns to surprise when Quartz kicks them. They fly past me and land with a thud and a clatter of metal. Before they could shout for help, I swing into Quartz’s saddle, and she breaks into a gallop.

  Quartz avoids a few patrols as we travel south to the border. Once there, we find a good spot on the edge of the Avibian Plains to camp. I rub Quartz down, give her a handful of milk oats and a drink before setting up my bedroll. The lack of sleep catches up to me. Even dire thoughts of Nic and Eve being arrested can’t keep me awake any longer.

  “…worried sick about us.” Nic’s sarcastic voice jolts me from a deep sleep. “Oh, hello, Opal. Sorry to wake you. It’s not like we’ve been dodging soldiers all night. We should have been more considerate.”

  I sit up, blinking in the morning sunshine. Nic and Eve sit astride two horses. Both are wearing gray cloaks over comfortable travel clothes—cotton pants and tunics in earth tones.

  “Were you followed?” I ask.

  “No,” Eve says, shooting Nic an exasperated look. “He’s exaggerating. We encountered only one patrol and gave them the slip.”

  “Good. How about some breakfast?”

  Nic grins and dismounts. He loops the reins around the saddle, letting his dark brown horse graze next to Quartz. Eve does the same. Her horse is much lighter with a reddish brown-colored mane and tail.

  “What are their names?” I ask Eve.

  “This is Ginger.” She strokes her horse’s neck. “And that’s her brother Chicory.”

  “Nice to meet you,” I say to the horses, feeding them a couple of milk oats.

  “Don’t tell me you were talking to the horses when you mentioned breakfast,” Nic groans.

  I laugh at his devastated expression. “No. But the horses eat first.”

  While Nic unties a feed bag, I start a fire, heating water for tea. Even though the sun has been up a couple hours, the cold still grips the air. A brisk wind blows from the Avibian Plains. The long grasses coating the rolling terrain dip and sway. It will be a few more weeks before they turn green. The bushes and stunted trees also don’t have any leaves yet. Although stark, the landscape is beautiful.

  “Are we really going to cross the plains?” Nic asks me.

  “Yes. It’s the quickest route.”

  “But what if these horses don’t have enough Sandseed blood for that fancy gait?”

  “It’s still quicker than going around.”

  “But won’t the Sandseed’s protective magic attack us?”

  “It shouldn’t.” The water boils and I remove the pot from the fi
re.

  “There are lots of things that shouldn’t happen but do anyway. I’ve arrested plenty of people because of those shouldn’ts.”

  I glance at Nic. He’s peering at the plains as if expecting an ambush.

  “Quartz isn’t worried. Besides, if the magic attacks, I’ll make sure you don’t get lost.”

  “That immunity comes in handy,” Eve says.

  “Also the magic recognizes the horses. Relax.”

  Nic frowns. “Easy for you to say. My cousin and his family entered the plains by mistake when I was ten, and they never returned.”

  Ah. “I’m sorry.”

  He shrugs. “Yeah…well that was twenty-five years ago.”

  No one says much as we eat breakfast, clean up and pack. Once we mount, I let Quartz find the best route. When we enter the plains, the air thickens around me as the magic presses close. It drains away, recognizing me. I check on Nic and Eve, looking for signs of confusion. Clear eyed, they give me a thumbs up. So far so good.

  “Time for the fancy gait,” I say. “It may feel…weird, but trust your horse.”

  “Weird?” Nic asks with concern. “You said fast—like riding a current of air.”

  “That, too.”

  “Opal—“

  “Let’s go.” I tighten my hold on the reins as Quartz breaks into the gust-of-wind gait. The browns, tans and grays of the plains streak into a blur below me. Her stride smooths into a forward motion as if we’re surfing on a rushing wave of water. Except it’s magic propelling us along. It’s exhilarating. Beside me, Nic grins and Eve’s eyes shine.

  Yelena estimated that Sandseed horses could travel twice the speed of a canter while gusting. However, when we stop for a rest, it appears we didn’t cover as much ground as I expected. I consider Chicory and Ginger. Perhaps being half-breeds they couldn’t travel as fast. Quartz bobs her head in agreement.

  I’m disappointed about the delay, but it’s still better than traveling at normal speeds. The trip to Kohinoor, the capital of the Jewelrose Clan takes us twenty days instead of the fifteen I estimated. But we didn’t encounter any trouble—a good sign.

  The bustling downtown of Kohinoor oozes wealth from every building. Most of the grand, sprawling structures have been built with bloodstone—a maroon-colored marble with gold veins that is quarried in the neighboring Bloodgood lands. The Jewelrose Clan lovingly calls Kohinoor the heart of Sitia. Jewelry stores dominate the main business district. Eighty percent of the gemstones mined from the Emerald Mountains are shipped here to be polished, cut, and set into lavish necklaces, earrings, rings and bracelets. Artists and stone cutters work side by side.

  The scent of curry spices the warm air of mid-morning. The clean sidewalks are filled with people dressed in colorful robes, skirts and dresses. They notice us, but don’t acknowledge our existence. A band plays rhythmic music in the middle of the town’s square. It takes me a couple minutes to figure out what is missing—there are no beggars or street rats lurking on the edges. I wonder if the city has a problem with thieves and chases off any undesirables.

  Nic and Eve glance around in amazement. It is their first trip here as well. Nic stares at a window display. Bright primary colors sparkle from large geodes.

  “Are you sure we can afford to stay here?” Nic asks as we pass the Golden Marquise Inn—an extensive building with high spires and attendants waiting outside to aid travelers. “They probably charge us just for breathing their air.”

  “We’ll find a more modest place so not to attract too much attention,” I say. “I can’t wait to sleep in a bed instead of on the ground.”

  “But I was looking forward to a rose water bath and cashmere towels,” Eve jokes.

  The Trillion Inn sits on the edge of the business district. Quartz stops at their stables.

  “Guess this will do,” I say and dismount.

  A stable boy hurries out to attend to the horses. I hover to ensure he knows what he’s doing. Once I’m satisfied Quartz, Chicory and Ginger will be spoiled, we collect our bags and enter the inn. There are only a handful of people in the tavern.

  “Look at that,” Nic says with excitement. “Tablecloths.”

  “You spend too much time in the Pig Pen, Nic,” Eve says. “There’s this other side of life that’s called civilization.”

  “But you gotta pay for it. I can drink and eat all I want at the Pen.”

  “I’m sure your brother is thrilled to see his free-loading twin every night. No wonder the man can’t afford tablecloths.”

  I ignore their banter and wave down a server, inquiring about rooms. She points us to the innkeeper, and I rent two adjoining rooms. Eve and I share and Nic gets his own.

  “What’s the plan?” Nic asks me at the door.

  “Get cleaned up and rest. Tonight we’ll split up and visit a few taverns and find out what we can about Tsavorite from the locals.”

  Nic rubs his thumb along the hilt of his sword. “Are you sure splitting up is a good idea?”

  “Are you afraid to go alone?” Eve teases.

  He ignores her. “Unless you want to don those fancy silk robes, we’re obviously strangers. I think we should assume our roles now in case the people in Tsavorite have eyes and ears in Kohinoor.”

  We are a few days away from our destination. Plus I’d bet, in this city, information gathering is a lucrative career.

  “Good point, Nic. We’ll stay together.”

  That night, we visit several taverns in the various parts of town—the business district, the residential area and the industrial quarter. The night air is warm. I wear my naturalist outfit—a loose green tunic and long floral skirt. I have a black leather belt around my waist, but my sais are back in the inn along with our cloaks. However, my switchblade is strapped to my right thigh and accessible through a “pocket” in my skirt. Nic, acting as my bodyguard keeps his same clothes, but he added a nasty-looking dagger to his belt. As my assistant, Eve’s clothes are similar to mine, except hers are drab. She carries my bag of herbal remedies.

  In each tavern, I order hot water and make a show of sprinkling my own leaves from the bag to the mug, claiming my head is pounding. Once we are settled, Nic sits at the bar, chatting while keeping an “eye” on us at a nearby table. The staff and other customers are polite, but tight-lipped and distant.

  Frustrated and about to call it a night, we stop in one more tavern near a large gem-cutting factory. Nic and I exchange a grin once we enter. The atmosphere is more relaxed, and the buzz of conversation is punctuated with loud bursts of laughter.

  While Nic trolls for information at the bar, my act draws a couple curious people. I explain. “This is dried eucalyptus; it helps open the nasal passages, relaxing the facial muscles and curing a headache in no time.” Sharing a couple of Leif’s tea bags that soothe an unsettled stomach, I invite a few locals to sit.

  Two women accept my offer, and I order them a round of drinks as we introduce ourselves. They’re wearing a plain gray jumpsuit—the uniform for the factory workers.

  “What brings you to Kohinoor?” Ristelle asks. Her bright red hair is in an intricate knot.

  “I received a message that my services are needed in the town of Tsavorite,” I say.

  Ristelle exchanges an amused glance with Luann. The large woman takes a sip of her ale to cover her smirk.

  “What’s so funny?” I ask.

  “Calling Tsavorite a town,” Luann says.

  “I know it’s small…” I wait.

  “It’s not a town. It’s a walled compound.”

  That explains quite a bit. I lean forward. “Does one of the rich factory owners live there?”

  “Oh yes. One of the richest men in the clan owns it, Gunther Jewelrose. But he’s…not all there. If you know what I mean?” Ristelle spins a finger in a circle near her temple.

  Eve frowns. “Is it safe?”

  “Of course. He just thinks he’s a king and Tsavorite is his kingdom. He’s harmless.”

  I d
oubt it, but didn’t want to upset my new friend. Instead, I ask Ristelle about the compound.

  “No one knows for sure what goes on in there. Even the servants live inside. Merchants delivering supplies are the only ones allowed past the gate.” She studies me with her light brown eyes as if trying to figure out a puzzle. Then she slaps the table. “Of course.”

  “What?” Eve asks.

  “I was wondering why Gunther would send for a naturalist. He has enough gold to afford the best healer in Kohinoor. But he doesn’t trust magicians.”

  “That’s an understatement,” Luann says. “He believes they all want to steal from him.”

  “He believes everyone wants to steal from him.”

  A paranoid megalomaniac. Lovely. I wonder if he knows Zitora’s a magician?

  The ladies change the subject and ask me if I have anything to get rid of the callouses on their fingers. I give them a vial of leopard oil mixed with ground sunflower seeds.

  Luann sniffs the salve. “If your herbal remedies are as good as you claim, you could do very well here.”

  “But you said there were healers in Kohinoor,” Eve says.

  “There are, but they charge a fortune. Cutters like me and Ristelle can’t afford their prices.”

  That’s terrible. “What happens when you get sick?”

  “If it’s bad—and I mean at death’s door bad, then our factory’s owner sends his healer,” Ristelle says. “Of course once we’re better we have to work double shifts until we repay the fee.”

  “Speaking of shifts, we have an early one tomorrow.” Luann stands. “Thanks for the drinks.”

  As we walk back to the Trillion Inn, we compare notes.

  “Yeah, that’s what I heard,” Nic says. “And I found out the reason Master Magician Zitora needs our help.”

  “Spit it out, man,” Eve says.

  “Gunther Jewelrose built his home in a void.”

  “It’s a death trap,” Nic says. “Only one entrance and walls as smooth as glass. Not to mention the dozens of armed guards.”

  We are camped a few miles east of Tsavorite and Nic has just returned from doing a reconnaissance of the compound. I hoped for better news.