Storm Glass. Maria Snyder V.

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      “Your companion.” His mouth twisted into a tight smile, but the humor failed to reach his cold eyes. “A Master Magician. A surprise that should not have been.” He stepped another foot closer. “I do not want to kill you.”

      “Good to know.” I glanced at his blade. Sharpness gleamed from the edges. His actions didn’t match his his words .

      “Your life is precious to me now that I know who you are.”

      “You knew I was a glassmaker before.”

      “Yes, but not The Glass Magician.”

      “What?”

      “You will come with me.”

      The desire to agree pressed on my shoulders and climbed up my throat. I bit my lip to keep the words trapped in my mouth. My muscles tensed with the need to obey, yet I resisted, knowing he used magic. He had caught me unaware before to trap me here, but now I was braced for his magical suggestions.

      “No,” I said, hoping his powers were weak. Controlling the mind and/or body was an advanced skill, requiring strong magic.

      His brow furrowed and the compulsion to join him flared inside me with a painful intensity. An annoyed breath huffed from his lips. “Submit or I will hurt you.” He snarled, showing his teeth.

      I had done the willing victim routine before. Last time the order had been the go-with-Alea-or-my-sisterwould- be-killed threat. My sister died anyway. Lesson learned. “No.”

      He moved. Jabbing his sword toward my arms, he lunged.

      I yelped and blocked the blade, swinging my right sais down. With a flick of his wrist he looped his weapon out of reach. The tip snaked past my upper left arm, leaving behind a burning slash. Blood brimmed and spilled, soaking the sleeve of my tunic.

      I was out of my league.

      “Do you submit?”

      “No.”

      He shrugged. In a blink, his sword thrust toward my neck. I flipped the sais into an X and deflected the blade up. The force of his blow throbbed through my wrists. The clang of metal echoed in the alley.

      Blue Eyes pulled his sword back and tried another lunge. I pushed the weapon toward the ground, but again he flicked his wrist. A line of fire blazed on my right arm. Wonderful. Matching cuts.

      He paused with his sword held in midair. My blood stained the tip.

      I glanced past him. Didn’t anyone hear the fight? Should I scream?

      “Submit? You will have so many cuts on your arms and legs, you will faint from lack of blood.”

      “No.”

      “Suit yourself.” He launched another flurry of attacks.

      My breath puffed from the effort of defending myself. When he halted, blood soaked my upper thighs. The ground wobbled.

      “You cannot beat me,” Blue Eyes said. “And there is no one here to help you.”

      Not yet. I aimed my left sais at his temple. He blocked with ease and countered. This time he nicked both my shoulders.

      A buzzing sounded in my ears as dizziness danced behind my eyes. “Okay.” I gasped. “I can’t…beat…you.” I drew in two deep breaths, trying to steady myself. “But I can…delay…you.” I sucked in a large gulp of air and yelled, “Master Cowan, over here.”

      Blue Eyes spun. I rushed him, knocked him over and sprinted past.

      In my mind, it was a great plan. If he hadn’t recovered so quickly, I would have made it out of the alley. Instead, he tripped me. I fell and rolled over in time to see Blue Eyes level his sword at my throat. I’d been here before.

      “Submit.”

      No other alternative at this point. He wasn’t going to kill me, but the overwhelming dread at being helpless and at his mercy made me wish he would. “All right.”

      Pleased, Blue Eyes stepped back and offered a hand. “Stand,” he ordered as if commanding a pet. His sword remained pointed at the ground.

      I ignored his help and summoned the energy to move. A high-pitched whistle sounded behind me before a wall of air slammed into us.

      The force rolled me along the ground. Blue Eyes flew back and landed in the building’s rubble. I rubbed the grit from my eyes in time to see Kade running toward me.

      He yanked me to my feet. “Let’s go,” he said.

      “My vase.” I gestured to the package. It had been blown against the rubble pile. Probably broken, but I wanted it.

      Kade huffed in annoyance. He sprinted over and grabbed it. Blue Eyes stirred. Kade hurried back and hustled me from the alley, only stopping when we reached the market.

      I sank to the ground to catch my breath.

      Kade knelt next to me. “Are you all right?”

      “Dizzy.”

      “You’re covered in blood.” He pulled at my clothing, searching for injuries.

      I slapped his hand away. “Arms. Legs. No others.”

      “Let’s get you to a healer. Come on, before your attacker finds us.”

      “Why the hurry? Couldn’t you just—” I waved my hand “—blow him over again?”

      He gave me a dry smile. “The air is calm today. Happy. It required a lot of effort to convince it to blow. I doubt I can do it again.”

      Kade practically dragged me to the healer’s house. We met Zitora on the way and she supported his decision to take me there, claiming her healing powers could only do so much.

      The tall healer led us to a room which contained the equipment needed to tend to the sick—a bed and a table loaded with supplies. After I lay on the bed, Zitora peppered me with questions, which distracted me from the healer’s ministrations. I had thought it hurt before he cleaned the cuts, but the wounds screamed with a new level of pain as the sharp sting of alcohol inflamed them.

      I answered Zitora as best I could. I faded in and out of consciousness as the healer and Zitora worked on my injuries.

      I woke. Lanterns blazed in the room and shadows waltzed along the stone walls. Worried I had wasted time, I sat up too fast and had to wait until the dizziness passed. Once the room stopped spinning, I found a clean set of my own clothes folded at the foot of the bed.

      The cuts on my arms and legs throbbed. The injuries looked about two days old with ugly scabs forming, but they remained tender to the touch.

      My abused muscles protested each movement as I dressed. I considered the discarded pile of bloodstained and tattered clothing. They were too ruined for even the Keep’s talented seamstress, so I left them there. I would have to order more of the СКАЧАТЬ