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Sea Glass
Sea Glass
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Sea Glass

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“I’ll lead you to them and in exchange—”

“No way,” Janco said.

“Let him finish,” I said. And when the Ixian frowned at me, I added, “Please. They’re Sandseed horses.”

He nodded, but his expression made it clear to me he was unhappy.

“In exchange, I want you to remove the manacles.”

“No way,” Janco and I said together.

“I promise not to run. I have been cooperating with you the entire trip.”

“You’ve been a pain in the ass the entire trip,” Janco said. “I’m sure given the first opportunity you’d bolt.”

“And I can’t trust you at all,” I said. “There is no reason for you to keep your promise.”

Devlen sighed. “You know why I would not, Opal. Just look past the whole kidnapping thing and remember how you felt when we were together.”

“The whole kidnapping thing? You might be able to dismiss it out of hand, but, to me, it’s too big to look past.”

“You just want to deny you loved me.”

“I cared for Ulrick, whose body you stole. Not you!”

“Come on. You had to know I was not Ulrick. No one changes that much.”

I almost laughed. He had done it again. Played with my emotions. It was like arguing with Janco—a no-win situation. Devlen had been trying to trick me into saying I had fallen for him well aware on some unconscious level of who he was.

The real reason he wanted me close was for the chance to reclaim his magical abilities with blood magic. The same illegal powers that Devlen had used to switch souls with Ulrick in the first place.

“Okay. Fine. Keep lying to yourself. I will take you to the horses anyway.” Devlen led us to a large horse farm a few miles north of Robin’s Nest in the Featherstone lands.

Peter Featherstone, the stable’s owner, showed us to the pasture. Moonlight’s mostly black coat stood out among the other horses. He nickered and ran to the fence with Quartz on his heels. Happy to see her, I threw my arms around Quartz’s neck and hugged her. When she pulled away in impatience, I inspected her from nose to tail. Her reddish-brown and white coat gleamed. No mud or cuts marred her legs and her mane and tail had been combed free of briars and straw. Her hooves were trimmed and neat. No horseshoes, though. Sandseed horses won’t let a farrier near them.

She nudged me with her nose, searching for treats. The only white on her brown face was a patch between her eyes. I probably imagined the sympathetic look she gave me, suppressing the sudden desire to pour my heart out to her.

I checked Moonlight. His sleek muscles enhanced his powerful build and he appeared healthy, too. The only white on him—the circle on his forehead and the reason for his name—shone as if recently washed.

“No doubt they’re yours,” Peter said.

“What do I owe you for their care?” I asked.

He looked at Devlen in surprise. “Nothing. He paid for two full seasons. In fact, I owe you.”

“Perhaps we can work out a deal. I need three more horses.”

“They won’t be Sandseed horses. They’re too expensive. It’s been my pleasure to take care of these two. I’ve never seen such intelligence.” Peter led us to the main stable.

The large wooden building smelled of earth and horses. Sawdust littered the floor and dust motes floated in the sunlight streaming through the big open doors. Two rows of stalls, sitting back-to-back, lined each side, creating three walkways. The main through way was wider than the others. Ropes hung along the stalls to secure horses for grooming and saddling.

“Your tack is in the back room.” He pointed. “I’ll have my staff bring your horses and the rental horses. See what you think of them.” He hustled back to the pasture.

I entered the tack room. My saddle hung on the far wall and I unhooked it. The leather had been cleaned. In fact, the bridles, reins and rest of our tack appeared to be in good condition. The neat and organized room reflected Peter’s caring and professional attitude.

Which was why the crack of a whip surprised me so much. Laden with equipment, I hurried from the room.

Janco clutched his right hand. Blood poured from between his fingers. He dodged as a long leather whip snapped at him. His sword lay on the ground out of his reach. The two Sitian guards fought four men with pitchforks. Devlen stood to the side, grinning.

We were under attack.

Chapter 2

I DROPPED THE TACK. My sais and glass spiders remained in my saddlebags. Right where I had left them with Janco. A brute of a man attacked him with a whip. Janco ducked and darted, trying to get to his sword. He was fast, but with each snap, the whip tore his shirt to rags. Blood stained the shredded material.

No weapons. No time. I charged the man wielding the whip, intending to knock him over or distract him long enough for Janco to regain his weapon.

I had forgotten about Devlen. He plowed into me before I reached my target. We crashed into the side of a stall. My breath whooshed from my lungs as his weight pressed me into the ground. Gasping and choking on dirt, I struggled to push Devlen off, to no avail.

“Gotcha!” a man’s voice yelled.

The snaps stopped, but the ring of metal sounded for another minute until a furious round of clatters and curses ended in silence.

“What the hell is going on here?” Peter demanded.

Good question.

“Contingency plan,” Devlen said. He lurched to his feet with his hands still manacled.

I scrambled to grab him, but another man leveled his pitchfork at my chest. Our Sitian guards knelt with their hands laced behind their heads. Behind them two men pressed pitchforks into their backs. The man with the whip held Janco. The whip’s leather strap wrapped around Janco’s torso multiple times, trapping his arms.

The horse Peter had been leading shied away from the smell of blood, but he quieted the animal with a reassuring hand. “Explain now,” he ordered.

I counted six men—seven if I included Devlen—against three. The fourth pitchfork man searched Janco’s pockets and found the key for Devlen’s cuffs.

Once freed of the manacles, Devlen rubbed his wrists. “Thank you.” He turned to Peter. “As you said yourself, Sandseed horses are expensive. I am afraid these people here—” he swept his arm out, indicating me and Janco “—tried to trick you.”

“He’s lying—ow!” The pitchfork’s sharp metal points jabbed into me.

“Do not be rude, Opal. You spun your story. Now it is my turn.” Devlen smoothed his hair away from his face. “The reason I paid for two seasons is I planned to be gone for two seasons, but I had a feeling something like this might happen and confided in the stable manager.” He inclined his head to the big man holding Janco. “You see, Sandseed horses are prized in Ixia. These three are really Ixian soldiers.”

The two Sitians guards tried to deny the accusation, but were pricked into silence.

“I am a horse trader and had business near the Ixian border,” Devlen continued. “They disguised themselves as Sitians, kidnapped me and coerced me into bringing them here so they could steal my horses.”

Protests erupted and pitchforks poked. My body felt like a steak being tenderized. Janco remained unusually quiet. A good or bad sign? I couldn’t tell.

Peter’s expression had turned from outrage to confusion. “But what about her? The painted mare wouldn’t have let a stranger touch her. It took me three weeks to get her to trust me.”

“My sister. Unfortunately, she was romanced by him.” He pointed at Janco. “She is young and inexperienced. He used her.” He clucked his tongue.

Outraged, I stepped away from the pitchfork. “We’re not related. He’s lying to you.”

My guard glanced at Devlen, and I braced for the jab. Devlen gave him a dismissive wave. No holes for now. Yippee for me.

“I’m sorry,” Peter said, looking from Devlen to me, “I don’t know who to believe.”

“You will want proof, of course,” Devlen said. “Go ahead, Opal, prove your ridiculous story to Peter.”

I opened my mouth and closed it. All I had on hand was the message from the Council and it would do more harm than good. The permission papers to travel through and leave Ixia had been collected by the border guards. The only way to convince Peter would be if he verified my story with one of the magicians in the Keep or with Zitora, which would alert the Council to my location. But better to be forced to appear before the Council and locked in the Keep’s cells than be Devlen’s prisoner again.

Devlen smirked as the silence lengthened. “She has nothing.”

“Peter can contact Second Magician Zitora Cowan to verify my story,” I said. The stable owner looked suitably awed.

“Name-dropping. Very impressive,” Devlen said. “And it would take a long time, too. Extra points for creativity.”

“Do you have any proof?” Peter asked.

“Of course.” Devlen strode to Janco’s pack and opened it. He turned it upside down and shook out the contents. “Ixian uniform. Ixian coins. Ixian weapons.”

“It’s a knife,” I said. “Everyone uses a knife.”

He yanked the blade from its sheath. “Not with Ixian battle symbols etched in the metal.”

Real fear caressed my spine. Before, the whole situation was preposterous, but now I worried Peter would believe him.

“If you need more, I can saddle Moonlight. You know Sandseed horses are very particular about who can ride them.”

Peter nodded.

“At least confirm my story with Master Cowan, before you do anything,” I pleaded.

Devlen scoffed. “As if he has the time. How many mares are ready to foal?” he asked Peter.

“Too many.” The stable owner sighed. “I don’t have time for this, either. I’ll send a message to Robin’s Nest and have the authorities deal with it.”

“Excellent idea.” Yet Devlen frowned and rubbed his wrists.

Peter took the bait. “But?”

“Oh, it is nothing. Since Opal is not of age yet, my father will be summoned. And it is the warming season—a busy time for farmers. He will be furious with us both.”

“I’m twenty,” I said, but Devlen and Peter shared a yeah-right look. Turning to the stable owner, I appealed to his intelligence. “We don’t even look like we’re related. Please wait.”

Peter chewed on his lip. “Horses have better sense than people. If he can saddle the black Sandseed horse, he’s telling the truth. Then he can take you home to help your father.” He turned to his manager, “Ox, secure those men. Use their manacles and lock them in the tack room. Bret, go fetch the authorities. You two—” he jabbed a finger at me and Devlen “—get your saddles and come with me.”

The stable hands moved to obey. Ox kept Janco wrapped tight in the whip.

I met Janco’s steady gaze. “Don’t worry, I’ll catch up,” Janco said before Ox dragged him away.

With no other options, I grabbed my saddle and followed Peter to the pasture. My situation transformed from bad to worse.

Moonlight snuffled Devlen’s hair, nudged him for treats and stood to be saddled without being tied to the gate. Yelena had told me Sandseed horses could sense magic. I had hoped Moonlight would balk at Devlen’s soul in Ulrick’s body until I remembered he had explained there was no magic to detect, and only the Soulfinder would know of his deception.

Peter saddled Quartz, but Devlen placed my saddlebags on Moonlight along with Janco’s sword. Great.

He thanked the stable owner. “Now we can get home and help my father plow.”

My panic must have reached my face. Peter touched my shoulder. “Don’t worry too much. Your father’ll be mad, but I’m sure he’ll forgive you in time. Daughters hold a special place in their hearts. I know.”

I tried to convince him of my honesty, but his stern frown warned me he’d had enough. Quartz felt my fear, but she nuzzled me as if to say, “Snap out of it.” She snorted with impatience. Her desire for action was evident, but I remained on the ground, declaring I would wait for the authorities to arrive.

Peter glanced at Devlen. “I have rope and leather ties.”

“No.” The mere thought of being tied to the saddle horrified me. I’d rather be free so I could escape as soon as we were out of sight. I mounted Quartz, feeling dazed over the speed with which my situation had changed.

Peter handed her reins to Devlen on Moonlight. With a final wave, he clicked and we left at a trot. I waited until the woods obscured the stable, then reached to unbuckle Quartz’s bridle. The bone-jarring gait made it difficult to keep my balance. I almost fell. Not that I would care, falling and running was plan B.

“What are you doing?” Devlen asked. He stopped the horses.

“Enjoying the scenery.”

“You have spent too much time with that annoying Ixian. Sarcasm does not suit you.” He dismounted.

“And being a doormat does?” I swung my leg over, preparing to slide down and bolt.

He pulled the sheath with my sais from the saddlebags. “No. You already proved you are not a doormat when you drained me, Tricky and Crafty of our magic. After I recovered from my surprise, I was quite proud of you.”

“Proud?” Not the feeling I expected.

“Yes. What you did was ruthless and smart. You did not hesitate. Much better than the whimpering little girl at our first meeting.”

I bit down on another sarcastic remark. I had been fourteen and a prisoner. He had tortured me—justified whimpering.

Devlen strode toward me with the sheathed sais. I planned my next move. But instead of pulling the weapons and threatening me, he shoved the sheath and Quartz’s reins at me.

“Here. Go. Do what you want.” He returned to Moonlight and mounted.

I clutched the weapons to my chest.

He spun his horse around and laughed at my confusion. “Did you think I was going to drag you to a remote cabin so I can reclaim my magic from your blood?”

“Yes.” Before I siphoned Devlen’s Warper powers, he had used blood magic to help Tricky regain a bit of his magic by injecting my blood into Tricky’s skin.

Good thing Tricky was incarcerated in an Ixian jail. And even better, Devlen didn’t know he was protected by my blood. He was the only magician impervious to my glass magic.

“Ten days ago, I would have. But I am getting used to being without magic, and do not miss the hunger for more power that had consumed me. Right now, I am more intrigued.”