“Not yet. Bain said the Council can only handle one step at a time.”
Fair enough. “Since you’re coming, does that mean Skippy can stay here?” I asked, trying not to let hope taint my voice.
“No,” Skippy said. “I’m still your Council-approved guardian.”
Guardian. Interesting word choice. “What about Jon or…the other guy?”
“They’re the relief. The responsibility is mine.” He puffed his chest a bit.
“So if you lose me during the trip, you’ll get in trouble?” I tried to tease him, but his reaction remained cold.
“You won’t lose me.”
Leif snickered. “Hale always had delusions of grandeur even in school.”
“Better than a goof-off with bizarre powers,” Skippy retorted.
I guessed they had attended the Keep together.
Leif grinned. “Bizarre is always better than boring. Always. However, your confidence of not losing Opal is misplaced. I’m sure you would try very hard, but if she took Quartz into the Avibian Plains, you’d lose more than her.”
“That’s ridiculous. She wouldn’t go in there. It’s suicide.”
“That’s a nice mare you have there, Hale. What’s her name?” Leif asked.
Confused by the change in subject, he said, “Beryl.”
“She’s well bred and in perfect health.” Leif ran a hand along her neck. Her brown mane and tail matched the small brown specks splashed all over her tan coat. “But she’s not a Sandseed horse like Quartz or Moonlight. They’re welcome in the plains anytime and it doesn’t matter who is on their back. They even have their own special gait while there that would leave poor Beryl behind in a cloud of dust.” Leif clucked his tongue.
“Special gait?” Kade asked.
“Ah, yes! Their gust-of-wind gait, which you need to experience sometime.” He poked Kade in the arm. “Maybe after I pay you back for ratting me out to Mara.”
The Stable Master returned from the pasture. “Get moving, you’re burning daylight! And, even worse, you’re in my way.”
Leif retrieved his saddle from the tack room and whistled for Rusalka.
A russet-and-white horse jumped the pasture’s fence.
“All the Sandseed horses can do that,” Leif said. “Kiki can even unlatch the door to her stall.”
Skippy huffed in annoyance and led Beryl outside to wait for us.
“You’re a horse snob, Leif,” I said.
“I like messing with Mr. Perfect.” He secured his bags and put a bridle on Rusalka.
Kade watched him. “Why don’t the Sandseed horses run away?”
“’Cause they’re spoiled rotten. We groom them, feed them and shelter them. They can’t get that in the wild. They choose to stay with us and even give us pet names when they first meet us.”
“Really?” I studied Quartz. She shifted her weight as if impatient to go.
“Yeah. A first impression is very important to a Sandseed horse. Yelena is Lavender Lady. Irys is Magic Lady. General Cahil is Peppermint Boy much to his chagrin. Janco is Rabbit and Valek is Ghost.”
“Do you know my horse name?” I asked Leif.
“No, but Yelena should. She’s the one they talk to.”
“What’s your horse name?” I asked Leif.
“You’d never guess it.”
“Silly Boy?”
“Not even close.” Leif finished saddling Rusalka.
“Goof-off?”
“Nope.”
“Irritating one?”
“Watch it,” he warned.
“What is it then?”
“Sad Man.”
“You’re right. I’d never guess that. How…Why?”
Leif sighed. “It’s a long story.”
Kade swung up into Moonlight’s saddle. “Well, we have seven and a half days on the road ahead of us. Plenty of time.”
Plenty of time for Leif to embarrass me in front of Kade. And it didn’t take him long. The first night we stopped at a travel shelter located along the main western road. This route followed the border between the Krystal and Stormdance Clan lands.
As Leif cooked dinner, we attended to the horses, settling them into the stable next to the shelter. We ate a delicious beef stew while Leif regaled us with stories. Unfortunately, most of them included me. We sat in a semicircle around the hearth. The shelter was empty except for us.
“…remember the storm thieves?” Leif asked me.
“I’m trying hard to forget.” I glared my displeasure at Leif.
“Storm thieves?” Kade asked.
I groaned as Leif launched into the tale of how a group of bandits had used storms to sneak up on unsuspecting travelers.
“…Opal’s turn to guard us and the horses, but the wind blew the rain sideways, masking all sounds and smells.”
“Speaking of guarding,” I interrupted, “should we set a watch schedule for tonight?”
“No need,” Leif said. “There’s no danger this time. No one is after you.”
When I failed to look reassured, he added, “Rusalka will sound a warning if she smells anything. You know how loud she can be.”
I couldn’t forget the shrill sound.
“Of course, with the storm, Rusalka was as surprised as Opal…” Leif resumed his story.
I ceased listening, having no desire to remember my failure to warn Leif and Ulrick. Instead, I gazed at the fire and tried to think of events with happier endings.
“…she almost killed me!” Leif cried, snapping me from my musings. “I thought she didn’t pick up on my hint to crush her spiders and bees. The leader—”
“I’m going to bed.” I stood with sudden purpose. “Good night.” Heading to the row of bunk beds that occupied the bulk of the shelter, I found a decent mattress in a lower bunk and unrolled my sleeping mat. Using my cloak as a blanket, I lay down and palmed two glass spiders just in case. A couple of glass rats nestled inside my cloak’s pockets within easy reach.
Why would Leif think that story was funny? I had released a Greenblade bee from glass and it stung the leader, killing him. My actions caused his death. He was the first. A few men had died when Kade released the energy from Kaya’s orb, but their demise seemed unavoidable, while the leader…If I had been smarter, his death could have been avoided.
Kade’s dark silhouette appeared in the semigloom as he walked toward me. He sat on the edge of my bed. “Are you all right?”
“Fine. I just didn’t want to hear any more.”
“You’ve certainly encountered a wide range of trouble.” His voice held concern.
“Now do you understand why I’ve been training so hard?”
“Yes. Please keep it up. At least, for Leif’s sake.”
“Leif?”
“He enjoys telling stories, and they’re even better when they have happy endings.”
Aside from spending one night in the open, the next five nights on the road resembled the first. We arrived in Thunder Valley around midafternoon on our sixth day. By this time I was sick of Leif’s stories and looking forward to spending a night alone with Kade. We paid for one night’s lodging at the Sea Breeze Inn on Kade’s recommendation.
Disdain pulled at the corners of Skippy’s mouth. He didn’t voice his objection to rooming with Leif, but he insisted on conjoining rooms.
Kade needed to contact the other Stormdancers and the new glassmakers. He ran errands while Leif, Skippy and I shopped in the market. With only a day and a half left of our journey, we didn’t need much. Though that didn’t stop Leif from drooling over the food vendors.
“As long as you like seafood, you won’t starve,” I said with a laugh.
Leif grimaced. “I’m not big with that slimy, smelly stuff. I’ll take travel rations over fish any day.”
“Then you better buy a pound or two of jerky.”
“How long will we be there?”
“A day or two at most,” Skippy said. He glanced at the sky with a worried frown.
I copied him, seeking storm clouds but finding only a wide expanse of brilliant blue. “Six or seven days at least, and a month at most.”
“You don’t need that much time to teach the glassmakers,” Skippy said with a surly tone.
Taking a deep breath, I counted to ten, containing the desire to send one of my spiders to bite him.