Shattered Glass

by Maria V. Snyder

  “Open the gate!” Nic sweeps his right hand out, gesturing them to move to the side. “She’s dying. Move it. Move it.”

  A few of them glance at a tall man as if seeking orders. The man steps forward and puts both hands up, making a stopping motion.

  Nic can either run him over or halt. With the gate down, there is nowhere to go. He wisely pulls on the reins.

  The tall man moves around to the side. “This is highly irregular, sir.”

  “My wife is dying, Captain. There’s no time to add her to the bleeding schedule. Open the gate.” The last bit is growled.

  The captain hesitates. Nic did a decent job sounding like Gunther, but not perfect. My heart jumps in my chest.

  Zelene cries out as if in terrible pain.

  Nic tightens his grip on the leather. “Open the gate.”

  The captain looks at Eve, Zitora and then me. “You need more men, sir.”

  “Fine.”

  The man gestures and six guards jump onto the wagon, including the captain who sits next to Nic on the bench. “Raise the gate!” he orders.

  The rows of guards part. Metal screeches and clicks as the chain is pulled. The heavy gate lifts slowly. Each tick of the chain takes years.

  As soon as there is enough room, Nic spurs the horses onward and we race from the compound, heading toward Kohinoor.

  Eve keeps her gaze on the compound. Probably waiting until we’re out of sight before taking care of our unwelcome hitchhikers. She might have difficulty with six of them so I pull my blowpipe from a pocket of my cloak. I palm a handful of darts.

  “That’s far enough,” the captain says.

  The wagon clatters to a stop. I wonder why Nic doesn’t pound the guy when I spot the knife at Nic’s throat. Oh no.

  “Men,” the captain orders.

  As one, they pull their swords, aiming at Zelene, Eve and Zitora. Eve keeps her weapon close to her side, but she’ll be skewered if she moves. I finger mine, deciding if my aim is good enough to risk it. It isn’t. Fear pumps through my heart. Gunther would never let us go.

  “I knew something was wrong,” the captain says. “Now, turn the wagon around. And you,” he says to me. “Follow us or I’ll remove his head from his shoulders.”

  What a swell guy. I clench the reins, but no brilliant escape plan comes to mind. Eve and I exchange a glance; she has nothing. We’re out of—

  Zitora laughs. “I can’t believe you’ve forgotten, Opal.”

  I groan at my stupidity. “Me neither. Do you have them?”

  “Yep.”

  “What’s going on?” Eve asks me.

  “Master Magician Zitora Cowan has immobilized the soldiers with her magic.”

  “Nice.”

  “Even the captain?” Nic asks. His voice is strained.

  “Yes. Prick them with the sleeping juice and we’ll leave them on the side of the road,” I say.

  It doesn’t take long to divest ourselves of the unwanted cargo. We continue, keeping a fast pace. I figure once Gunther and the guards wake, they’ll come after us and I’d like to be in Kohinoor by then.

  “Isn’t that obvious?” Zelene asks me.

  “Yes, but what is Gunther going to do? With Zitora able to access her magic, he can’t force you to return. Besides you need to regain your strength for the journey to the Citadel and we need to replenish our supplies.”

  We arrive in Kohinoor around mid-afternoon of the third day. Traveling with two children used to every comfort and pulling a wagon has added a half-day, which meant Gunther would be here by nightfall if he left right after being freed. If we used the Curare on them, we’d have until tomorrow, but I hated to waste the drug.

  Once again, we rent rooms at the Trillion Inn. It’s clean, comfortable and easy to defend.

  “Do you think he’ll try to sneak in overnight and kidnap his family?” Zitora asks me at supper that evening.

  “Not with you sharing her room.”

  “But I have limits. If he comes with a dozen guards—”

  “He won’t.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “This is where he does all his business,” Zelene says. “If he does leave the compound, he won’t make a scene.”

  She has been so quiet since we escaped. Unlike her boys who asked a million questions, including when they’re going to return home and see their father. I hope she explains soon. I didn’t relish an entire trip with cranky homesick children.

  “Does he stay at one of the inns when in town?” I ask her.

  “No. We…he has a home here.” She shrugs. “He may have sold it.”

  “Where?”

  She gives me the address.

  “On it,” Nic says, standing. “If I confirm it’s still his, do you want eyes on his place all night?”

  “Yes. We’ll take shifts.”

  Three days later, when the kids and Zelene are asleep, Zitora pulls me aside. “Why the delay? He’s not coming. We can hire a healer for Zelene in the morning and leave.”

  “I’ve a feeling he’ll be here soon, but if he doesn’t show in the next two days, we’ll leave.”

  Zitora gives me a quizzical look. “I thought we were escaping. That it’s a good thing he’s not here.”

  “Zelene needs to talk to Gunther or she’ll never find peace with how things ended. He needs to understand that they are leaving and he can’t stop them. If he doesn’t arrive that means he already comprehends the situation. Then we’ll have to explain that to Zelene.”

  “Oh.”

  “And don’t worry, you and I will be right there when they talk.”

  “Good.” She draws in a deep breath and then grins. “I’m actually hoping he tries something. I’d love to show him the extent of my powers.”

  “Atta girl.”

  After breakfast on the fifth morning since arriving in Kohinoor, we get ready to leave. Eve arrives with the news that Gunther is on his way. “He has four bodyguards,” she says.

  We return to the common room—about half the tables are filled with customers.

  “This is a nice public place for a chat,” I say.

  Zitora squeezes her sister’s hand when Zelene pales.

  “What should we do?” Nic asks.

  “It will depend if the four goons come inside with him. I’d like to give them some privacy, but still be close enough to interfere if needed.”

  I’m surprised and a bit impressed when Gunther enters alone. His wary expression softens into sadness when the two boys rush him. He crouches to embrace them. Nic rests his hand on his sword’s hilt and edges closer. Eve, Zitora and I stand in a protective half-circle behind Zelene, who remains seated.

  But Gunther releases the boys, straightens and approaches the table. He scans us. “May I have a private word with my wife? Please.”

  The please is new. “Eve, take the boys to their room,” I say, then point to a table nearby. “We’ll be right here. Try anything and Zitora will turn you into a rat and Nic will gladly feed you to the cats.”

  Zitora and I sit as Gunther settles on the opposite of Zelene’s table.

  “You know I can’t do that, right?” she whispers to me. “Nobody can.”

  “Yeah, but he doesn’t know that.” I wink at her.

  Gunther and Zelene talk for quite a while. Being too far to hear their conversation, I study her posture and expression for signs of distress. At first, she’s wary and distant, then she…relaxes. I glance at Gunther. Tears shine in his eyes. He reaches for her hands, but she jerks them away.

  Zitora tenses. “If I concentrate really hard, maybe I could turn him into a rat.”

  “It could be painful.”

  “Even better.”

  I laugh, but sober when Gunther tries again and Zelene allows him to grasp her fingers. When Gunther moves off his chair and kneels beside Zelene, we’re next to her in a heartbeat.

  “…don’t want to lose my family,” he says to Zelene.

  “Too late for that,�
� Zitora says. “You don’t lock your family up.”

  “I know. I’m sorry! I…lost my mind for a bit. When my mother tried to kill me, I just…shattered. My world was out of control. But…these last couple days after Zelene and the boys left…everything was so empty…nothing mattered to me, not even my money. I realized how terrible I’ve been acting.”

  “Terrible? Try paranoid and insane! In fact, I can press charges against you for kidnapping a Master Magician.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Oh no, it’s way too late for that. Crawl on back to your compound, Gunther, and leave my sister and her children alone or I will arrest you.”

  He remains on his knees. “I promise to never—”

  “No second chances, Gunther.” Zitora’s tone is borderline deadly, but he doesn’t back down. Impressive for a man on his knees.

  “We can draw up an agreement. You can—”

  “No.”

  “You can read my mind. See for yourself, I’m telling the truth.”

  Zitora draws a breath, but Zelene touches her sister’s arm. “Look for me, sis. See if my Gunther has truly returned.”

  The refusal is perched on Zitora’s lips as she stares at Zelene in shock.

  “Please,” Zelene says.

  Zitora glances at me. “What do you think?”

  The words to tell her to turn him into a rat die in my throat. Gunther’s behavior was awful, but the memory of another man who has done terrible things worse than Gunther’s actions rose in my mind. “If Devlen can change and earn my love, then Gunther can change as well.”

  “But Devlen was addicted to blood magic,” Zitora counters.

  “True. However, Gunther’s addicted to his money.”

  Gunther makes a small sound of protest, but wisely remains quiet.

  She considers. “All right, if I learn that you’re telling the truth, we will create a legal and binding agreement that Zelene and the boys can come and go as they please, that they will visit me for one season a year, and that you will donate five hundred golds to the Citadel’s child services every year. Agreed?”

  He nods, but adds, “Yes.”

  “And if you’re lying, then I will scramble your brains.”

  Gunther pales and swallows.

  “If you violate any part of the agreement, then I will bring an army of magicians, Stormdancers and soldiers to your precious compound.” Zitora leans forward. “That void you’re hiding in can be moved, Gunther. It won’t take us long to flatten your home into rubble.” She stares at him. “Still want me to examine your deepest thoughts and desires?”

  He stands. “Yes.”

  “Then have a seat. This is going to be very painful for you.”

  Zitora shakes her head as Gunther, Zelene and the boys leave the inn. “I can’t believe he was telling the truth.”

  “He lost his family and it scared him,” I say. “Are you worried he’ll return to being paranoid?”

  “No.” She grins. “He’s terrified of me.”

  “Good. Now we can go home.” I consider. I’ve been gone for thirty-seven days, and I miss Devlen and Reema. “Are you ready to go?”

  “Yes!” She rolls up her copy of Gunther’s agreement, which was signed and notarized by Kohinoor’s legal officer.

  Zitora travels with us until we reach Booruby ten days later. “I’ll head north and you can cut across the plains to Fulgor,” she says.

  “Are you sure?” I ask for the hundredth time. “We can go with you to the Citadel and then head east.”

  “Nonsense. Unless I get trapped in a void, I can take care of myself.” She gives us all a hug good-bye. “Thank you.”

  Nic, Eve and I cut through the Avibian Plains and arrive in Fulgor twenty days after we’ve left Kohinoor. I’ve been gone almost the entire warm season. Drawing in a deep breath, I enjoy the scents of home. It’s mid-afternoon, and even Quartz is anxious to arrive. She increases her pace. Nic and Eve insist on accompanying me to my factory despite my protests.

  “Don’t forget the soldiers,” Nic says. “They might still be waiting for you.”

  Nic has a point. “I’ll sneak in the side door.”

  “Now you’re thinking!”

  We stable our horses at the Back Alley. Once they are groomed and settled, we walk to my home. Nic does a recon of the building and reports there are no signs of watchers. Good or bad? I can’t decide.

  Slipping inside, we cross to the main floor. The four glass kilns are silent and cold. My stomach twists with fear. I pull my sais.

  Nic and Eve are armed in a flash.

  “What’s wrong?” Eve asks.

  “All the kilns have been shut down.”

  “But you haven’t been here,” Nic says.

  “Doesn’t matter, they stay hot. Many other people use them as well.”

  We check all the rooms on the ground floor—empty. Climbing the stairs, my heart urges me to run, but I keep a steady pace until I see our dining table lying on its side and other evidence of a struggle.

  Then I’m racing through all the rooms screaming for Devlen and Reema.

  But they’re gone.

  THE END

  Part II

  Excerpt: Dawn Study

  Maria V. Snyder

  MIRA Books, ISBN 978-0778319856

  Release Date: January 31, 2017

  1

  Yelena

  I ghosted through the quiet Citadel streets well after curfew. Dressed in black from head to toe, I stayed in the shadows to avoid detection and lamented the necessity of having to skulk about like a criminal. The row of Councilors’ houses appeared to be deserted—we’d received intel that the Cartel had “relocated” the Sitian Council for their safety. Not trusting the darkened windows or the info that the houses were empty, I looped around to the back alley and waited. No signs of movement. Were the houses vacant, or did a professional ambush wait inside?

  If I still had my magic, there would be no need to guess. But the baby in my belly was blocking my powers—or, at least, that was the current theory. My pulse skittered with the thought of the baby. Valek’s request that I be very careful echoed in my mind. I drew in a breath to steady my heart as I approached Councilor Bavol Zaltana’s home, located in the middle of the row.

  Without the light from the street lanterns, the darkness pressed around me. A cool night breeze diluted the stink of garbage left too long in the sun. I knelt by the back door and felt for the keyhole, then inserted my tension wrench and diamond pick. Lifting the pins into alignment, I twisted the tumbler and the door swung open into the kitchen that during my previous visits had been filled with heat and light and the scent of jungle spices. Instead, a cold, quiet mustiness greeted me.

  I tucked my tools away and stepped inside and to the right. Standing in the threshold, I would have been an easy target. I sniffed the air for any hint of perfume, cologne or shaving cream, or anything that would indicate another person or persons crouched in the shadows.

  Only the dry scent of dust filled my nose.

  That ruled out the amateurs, but I knew The Mosquito remained a threat and wouldn’t make such a rookie mistake. He’d been paid to assassinate me, and he would hunt me until he finished the job. No surprise that Valek wasn’t happy about this mission, but due to our limited resources, personnel and time, he’d conceded the need to send me here while he searched Bavol’s office in the Council Hall. Since Bruns Jewelrose and his Cartel had moved into the hall, Valek had the far more dangerous task.

  We both sought any information on how Bruns’s Cartel had been able to procure enough Theobroma to lace the food at the Council Hall, the Magician’s Keep and four military garrisons. Their magicians then used magic to turn all those who consumed the sweet treat into compliant and obedient members of the Cartel.

  When no obvious dangers materialized, I walked through the house, checking every corner for intruders, including the ceiling. All clear. Breathing became easier as I drew the curtains tight before conc
entrating on my task. Lighting a small lantern, I started in Bavol’s home office, looking in his desk drawers.

  Bavol had been given the assignment of determining a way to mass-produce Theobroma for the Sitian military. Once the Council learned that the Commander had barrels of Curare, they’d panicked. Curare was an effective nonlethal weapon, causing full-body paralysis. The substance that counteracted Curare was Theobroma, which wasn’t ideal due to it rendering a person vulnerable to magic, but it was better than being paralyzed. The other problem, however, was that it only grew in the Illiais Jungle, and at a very slow rate.

  Or so everyone thought.

  Bruns and Owen Moon had managed to increase not only the quantity but also the growth rate, using glass hothouses and grafting techniques. But just how had they learned this technique remained a mystery.

  Finished with the drawers, I moved on to Bavol’s cabinet. A couple of the files included diagrams of plants, and I stacked them next to me. The last time we visited Bavol, he’d acted… odd. Leif’s magic picked up a strange vibe from him, but we hadn’t pressed the issue. Now, with Bavol “housed” at the Greenblade garrison and unreachable, I hoped any information we found would help us determine not only where Bruns had procured the Theobroma but also how.

  I collected a nice-size pile, but spent a few minutes checking the living area and his bedroom, too, just in case he had hidden files elsewhere.

  Satisfied that I’d covered all possible locations, I grabbed the stack and slipped out the back door, relocking it behind me. I waited for my eyes to adjust to the darkness as the air cooled my sweaty skin. I’d left my cloak back at HQ. It was the middle of the warm season. The night air remained a reasonable temperature a little longer each evening. And since I was three and a half months pregnant, I stayed warmer as well.

  An extra-deep pool of black appeared next to me. Instinctively I dodged to the side as metal flashed, and a sharp coldness nicked the left side of my neck before striking the door behind me. I dove to the right and hit the ground with a thud. The blackness cursed and followed me. I hissed as a blade seared a path along my left bicep. I kept rolling deeper into the darkness—my only defensive play at this point. Fear pulsed, urging me to hurry.