Sea Glass g-2

by Maria V. Snyder

  I slowed.

  “I thought not.”

  “But she was telling you about Ulrick and—”

  He squeezed my arm. “Yes, I know all about it. Yelena told me in Ixia.”

  I had forgotten she went to the Commander’s Castle. She believed me and Kade knew the true story.

  I stopped. “I’m sorry.”

  Even in the flickering lantern light, Kade’s brown hair shone with yellow, gold and red highlights. His hair had grown past his shoulders. The ends curled slightly.

  He cupped my face in his hands. “You’re forgiven.”

  Pulling me toward him, he kissed me. The books in my arms prevented us from doing more.

  “Here, let me help.” Kade grabbed a handful of texts.

  When we reached the lobby, Skippy trailed us. Kade stiffened.

  “He’s my babysitter,” I explained.

  “At least you’re not in a cell.”

  “True. And I’m not surrounded by a null shield.”

  The details of my negotiations made him laugh. “I guess Yelena didn’t tell me everything.” He gave me a pointed stare. “You’ve changed. We’ll have to catch up back in your quarters.”

  No eavesdroppers there, but Skippy or one of his pals would be hanging around. However, once we arrived at the door to my rooms, Kade turned to Skippy and told him to go home.

  “I’ll keep Opal safe tonight,” Kade said.

  “I have my orders.” Skippy crossed his arms. “Unless you’re a Councilor or a Master Magician, I’m in charge.”

  “Skippy’s a powerful magician,” I said.

  “Really?” Kade acted impressed. “Can he block a force-eight gale?”

  “I’m sure he can. Show him, Skippy.” I gestured.

  “My name is Hale. Stop calling me Skippy or I’ll have you arrested. Would you rather spend the night in the Keep’s cells instead of your boyfriend’s arms?”

  “You’re bluffing,” I said.

  “Try me.”

  “Skippy can only have me arrested if I use my glass magic.”

  The magician kept his temper, but he must have pulled power because Kade responded with a restless breeze.

  “I’m staying,” Skippy said.

  Kade touched my arm, cutting off my reply. “Fine. But you can watch the door from over there.” He pointed across the courtyard.

  A whoosh of air hit Skippy, pushing him backward. His clothes flapped and dirt swirled around as he fought against the narrow wind. The nearby trees and bushes hardly moved. The wind forced him to the spot Kade had indicated and died. When Skippy tried to walk closer, the blast hit him again. He glowered at us, but stayed put.

  “Interesting. What do you call that?” I asked.

  “Technically it’s a microburst, but if anyone official asks, he was caught by an errant wind. The poor guy.” Kade tsked. “It came from nowhere.”

  We entered my quarters. I lit the lanterns while Kade stirred a fire to life. Evenings during the warm season tended to be chilly. Although…I watched Kade as he added logs to the flames. The flickering soft light illuminated his long eyelashes. He kept his mustache and thin anchor-shaped goatee with its line of hair growing along his strong chin. He wore a tan tunic and dark brown pants tucked into calf-high boots. Scuffs and stains marked the leather; he would need a new pair soon.

  Kade tossed more firewood until the hearth blazed with heat.

  I stopped him from adding another log. “It’s hot enough.”

  “I’m making sure you’re not cold. I know how much you hate it.” Kade wiped the sawdust from his hands and stood.

  As he was five inches taller than me, I gazed up at him. “I had other ideas about keeping warm.” I leaned into him.

  “Blankets?” he asked, feigning ignorance.

  I unbuttoned his tunic.

  “Sweaters?”

  I removed his shirt and ran my hands down his shoulders and around his back. Hard muscles clung to his lean frame. Too lean. He had lost weight.

  “A hot bath?” He yanked at my clothes.

  My fingers sought his waistband. In a matter of seconds, our clothes piled onto the floor. I drew him close. Skin against skin, igniting desire and hunger. Everyone had been so cold and distant. I needed him, wanted to join him inside his skin.

  We kissed, sinking to the ground until we were prone.

  “Any more guesses?” I asked.

  “No.” He covered my body with his. Between kisses he said, “I’ll keep you warm.”

  Sparks of heat raced through my blood, and fire burned in my heart as Kade kept his promise.

  I didn’t want to move. But when the fire died down and the cold floor sucked our remaining warmth, we transferred to the couch. Wrapping a blanket around us, we nestled together.

  “What’s been going on?” Kade asked.

  “You said Yelena told you.”

  “She told me the facts, but not how you were dealing with it.”

  I searched his gaze. “Facts?”

  “I believe you.”

  I sagged against him as pure relief melted my muscles. If he had doubted me, I would have shattered. “You’re the only one.”

  “Yelena and Leif—”

  “Want to believe me, but aren’t one-hundred-percent certain.”

  “But can’t she read your mind?”

  “Yes, but if I’ve been fooled to think Devlen stole Ulrick’s body, then my memories are true.”

  Comprehension smoothed his face. “Zitora claims the trauma of being tricked has made you cling to Ulrick’s story, but she said you were slowly getting over it and I should encourage you to put it all behind you.”

  I huffed with derision.

  “Opal, she stressed how important it is for you to move on. I think she’s worried you’re still in danger.”

  “In danger of what?”

  “Of being locked up for your own good. Or if you press the matter, perhaps those who are part of the larger conspiracy will decide to silence you.”

  A shiver raced along my skin. Kade pulled the blanket over my shoulder.

  “You need a hot cup of tea. Let me get—”

  “No. Stay.” I clutched his arm.

  “Yes, sir.” He settled back on the couch.

  “Don’t worry about me. I’m cooperating. Even Mara thinks I’ve been duped.” I remembered my stall tactics for more freedom. “Well, I’m being good enough. I haven’t said anything about blood magic.”

  Kade raised an eyebrow. “Good enough? What about the extra hours of training? The negotiations with the Council? Didn’t Yelena advise you to cooperate fully? What happened to your determination to abide by the Council’s decisions?”

  “I would have been more obedient if they played fair.”

  “Life is rarely fair.”

  By Kade’s wistful tone, I knew he meant his sister Kaya. She had been killed when an orb shattered while she danced. The Stormdancer orbs had been sabotaged, rendering them too brittle to hold the storm’s energy.

  “I know that now,” I said. “Parents teach their children to share, to play fair, to be honest. But…surprise! Life isn’t fair. And it takes a while to transition from the childhood lies to the adult reality. I probably clung to the part of me that still expected fairness longer than most.”

  Kade considered for a moment. “Zitora was right about you.”

  “Don’t believe her, Kade. I don’t trust her or the Council.”

  “She’s a Master Magician—”

  “So what! Roze Featherstone was a Master Magician and she unleashed a Fire Warper on Sitia. Her rationale was twisted. She convinced herself her actions were best for Sitia. Even at the end she believed.” My stomach churned, remembering Roze’s corrupted soul as it passed through me and into her glass prison.

  “You don’t think Zitora is trying to protect you?”

  “No. I think she’s trying to protect herself.”

  Kade remained silent for a few heartbeats. “My mother taught
me to think the best of someone until all the evidence was collected.”

  A fancy way of saying don’t jump to conclusions. But it wasn’t a jump when Zitora supported Councilor Moon’s claims. It was evidence. “Parents do their children a grave disservice, protecting them from the truth and raising them in a fairy world of fairness and lies.”

  Kade moved back and studied my expression. “You weren’t this bitter when we were locked in that storeroom on the northern ice sheet. Tricked and tortured, yet you remained optimistic.”

  “Optimistic? I told you to kill me along with Sir and his gang. How is that optimistic?”

  “Maybe that’s not the right word.” His gaze swept the room as if he searched for the proper inspiration. “You still had…faith…trust in people despite the situation. Who do you trust now?”

  “Mara—”

  “Besides family members.”

  I sorted through the people I knew. “I trust you and Janco.”

  “A rather short list.”

  “Here’s a longer list for you. Alea, Pazia, Tricky, Tal, Devlen, Ulrick, Gressa, Councilor Moon and Zitora.”

  “And they are…?”

  “All the people who either lied, tricked or used me.”

  He remained quiet. Probably thinking of a counterpoint, but I didn’t want to discuss it anymore. Kade was here. With me. Yet I still grasped his arm as if I clung to a rock while waves tried to knock me off. I relaxed my grip and wrapped my arms about his torso.

  “You lost weight. Didn’t they feed you in Ixia?” I asked.

  “The Commander was very generous, but I ate most of my meals with Yelena. Seeing her pick through her food as if everything contained poison, I lost my appetite. Plus, I was worried about you.”

  Before he could change the subject back to me, I asked him, “What did the Commander decide about the blizzards? Is he going to let you dance in them?”

  “The Commander is rather stubborn about magic. I had planned to stay on the ice sheet to calm the storms until the warming season, but Janco’s partner, Ari, arrested me and escorted me to the Commander’s castle.”

  “But a cell can’t hold you!”

  “If it’s strong enough it can, but, even though Ari is built like a tank with curly hair, he couldn’t hold me without a null shield. I could have escaped at any time. But I cooperated with him. No sense angering the Commander. And I was treated like a guest when I arrived at his castle.” He poked the fire. “He’s intelligent and adamant. I wasn’t able to convince him to allow a group of Stormdancers to harvest the blizzards next cold season, but he did agree to watch a demonstration.”

  “Did you impress him with your superior skills?”

  Kade laughed. “I don’t think Commander Ambrose is impressed by much. I didn’t get a chance to show him. By the time he agreed to the demonstration, I needed to leave if I wanted to spend time with you before the heating season’s storms.”

  “Getting the Commander’s approval is more important than me,” I said.

  “I see your sense of self-worth hasn’t changed.”

  I straightened, pulling away. “Those blizzards kill people every year. Saving people’s lives versus spending time with me? Even if I was the Queen of Sitia, the choice is obvious.”

  “That’s why I’m going to be on the northern ice sheet with the Commander during the first blizzard of the next cold season. It will be a more effective display than taming a warm-season thunderstorm. Also Commander Ambrose grew up in Military District 3 and knows by experience just how much damage they can do.”

  “Oh.”

  “See how you shouldn’t jump to conclusions?” Smugness oozed from him.

  “It wasn’t a jump. More of a leap. No. A skip. Definitely a skip. No jumping involved.”

  “Really?” He doubted me.

  “Yes. You don’t know what a jump is.”

  “I don’t?” Confusion replaced his dubiousness.

  “Yes.”

  “Care to tell me?”

  “No. I’ll show you.” I pounced on him, dragging him to the floor. Smothering his squawk with my lips, I pinned him under me. When I had regained my breath I said, “That’s a jump.”

  “I’m still a little fuzzy on the definition.” He snaked his arms around me. “Please continue your demonstration.”

  I pressed my body against him, but a nagging thought hovered. I wouldn’t have been this bold before. Dismissing the notion, I turned my full attention to the man below me, certain he would agree that change, in this case, was for the better.

  Sometime during the night we transferred to my narrow bed. I woke with Kade curled around me as the morning sun’s rays shot through the cracks in the shutters. Groaning, I peeled the covers back and yanked at Kade’s anchoring arm on my hip. But he wouldn’t move.

  “Blow it off,” he muttered half-asleep.

  “I can’t. I’m in training. I’ll skip my afternoon classes. Hell, I’ll even skip lunch for you, but training is too important.”

  He lifted his arm. “Are you worried about being attacked?”

  “Not at this moment, but I need to be able to defend myself just in case.” I slipped out of bed. The cold air raised the hair on my arms and I quickly dressed in my training uniform—loose, comfortable gray pants and a white sleeveless tunic. The day would warm in a hurry. I brushed my hair, pulling it back into a ponytail.

  Leaning on one elbow, Kade watched me. His tousled hair shone in the sunlight and his amber-colored gaze beckoned.

  Tempted, I looked away. “Besides, the activity helps me burn off my frustration.”

  “There are other ways to…exercise.”

  I smiled over his word choice. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “Thunder and lightning, girl! How much frustration do you have? I would think after last night…”

  “It helped, but ignoring the snide remarks and slights from my fellow students, and suffering through the delicate and cautious way my teachers treat me every day, I need to punch something. I ruined one training bag already imagining Skippy’s face on the black leather.”

  “That bad?”

  “Imagine Raiden convinced you a storm was coming and you ran and told all the other Stormdancers to prepare for a big nasty blow. But they don’t believe you. When Raiden shows up, he tells everyone he lied to you and you fell for it. Fell for it so hard you still think a big nasty is coming despite being told otherwise. How would the others treat you when you try to warn them? How would you feel, knowing you’re right but unable to prove it?” I gripped my arms, to stop from saying more.

  This past season had been wasted time. Devlen and Ulrick could be anywhere by now, teaching blood magic to anyone. When the Council finally believed me, they might have a whole army of Warpers to deal with instead of a few.

  “You have a good point.” Kade threw back the rest of the blankets. “While you’re busy, I’ll go submit my official request to the Masters.”

  “Request?”

  He paused on the edge of the bed. “I guess I should ask you first. You might want to stay here and train.” He teased.

  “Kade.” A mock warning rumbled through my voice.

  “We have about thirty days left until the next round of storms. Although they’re milder than the cooling season’s, the heating season has produced a few rogue nasties in the past. We don’t have any orbs and we need to teach the new glassmakers how to make them all in the next month.”

  I understood. “And only one person knows the sand recipe for the orbs.”

  “You never told Zitora?”

  “Didn’t have time and now she avoids me.”

  “Then tell me. Not knowing worked when that group held me up on the ice sheet, but there is no reason to stay ignorant,” Kade said.

  “Forty percent—”

  “Whisper it.” He tapped his ear. “Just in case Skippy’s nearby.”

  “Nice try, but I know you’ll just grab me.”

  He feigned innocence,
but I ignored him.

  “Am I that predictable?” he asked.

  “Like a hot-season thunderstorm.”

  Groaning, he flopped back on the bed. “It’s too early in the morning for a weather analogy. Go.” He shooed. “Tell me later when I’m awake enough to remember it.”

  I left my quarters, and when Skippy fell into step behind me, I didn’t care. My thoughts dwelled on Kade and the possibility of leaving the Keep.

  My opponent lunged, shot through my defenses and jabbed me in the solar plexus. I expelled all the air in my lungs in one harsh whoosh.

  “You’re dead. Third time today.” Captain Marrok leaned on his wooden practice sword as if it were a cane.

  Doubled over, I struggled to breathe. My sais grew heavier in my hands with every gasp.

  “What’s going on? You’re better than this.” He pointed at me with his sword. “Since I’ve been the Weapons Master, I haven’t had a student work as hard as you or improve so much.”

  “Sorry…” I puffed. “I’m…distracted.”

  “Then get undistracted. You’re not going to get a second chance in a real fight. Treat every practice bout as the real thing.” He tossed the weapon down. “Go work with Sarn on self-defense tactics. Maybe that’ll help you refocus.”

  I suppressed my groan. Sarn outweighed me by a hundred pounds. Thick barrels of muscle bulged from his arms, legs and chest. He was easy to outrun, but, if he clamped his oversize hands on me, my chances of winning went from slim to none. He wouldn’t let go unless forced and he felt no pain. Muscles even covered his fingers. Who had muscular fingers? The man was a mutant.

  The one sliver of brightness in working with Sarn was, if I broke free from him, I could get away from anyone. No success so far, but not for lack of trying.

  “Hiya, Opal! You back for another session?” Sarn asked.

  “I wouldn’t miss it.”

  Unfazed by my grumbled reply, he grinned. “Great! What do you want to start with? Stranglehold? Choke hold? Ground pin? Armlock? Leg lock?”

  “Such choices. You really know how to spoil a girl.”

  “You know me, the King of Smooth. There! I made you smile.” He beamed as if he’d just passed a final exam.