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Covering our noses with our shirts, we filed in. From the overturned chairs and scattered trash, it appeared as if they’d left in a hurry. Valek crouched by the body of a man whose throat had been sliced open.
“The gardener?” I asked.
“Probably. He has dirt under his nails. No defensive wounds, which means he knew his attacker.”
“Or he was trapped by magic,” Janco said. “How long has he been dead?”
“Three or four days.” Valek straightened. “Take a look around. See if they missed anything.”
We spread out. A small bed and night table lined the far wall. Gardening tools hung near the door. I poked at the ashy remains of the fire, uncovering a half-burned parchment. Fishing it from the pile, I smoothed it flat, revealing a picture of a hobet plant, along with instructions for its care.
My shirt slipped down and the putrid smell filled my nose. It flipped the contents of my stomach and I bolted for the door. Once I reached clean air, the need to vomit slowly disappeared. Shivering with the cold, I retrieved my cloak from Kiki. Once ensconced in its warmth, I strode to the glass house. I peered through the clear walls. Leaves and broken stems littered the dirt floor. It appeared as if plants had been wrenched out by their roots. I spotted something white in the middle of the mess.
Wagon wheel tracks lined up next to the entrance. I guessed they’d loaded everything up that had been in the glass house and didn’t bother to lock up. The knob turned with ease and I entered. The air was colder inside. Boot prints marked the muddy spots.
The white object was a sheet of parchment folded in half. When I picked it up, a loud pop sounded. I straightened. Thousands of cracks raced through the glass like lightning. Fear sliced through my heart just as fast.
“Yelena!” Valek yelled from the doorway, too far away.
I yanked my hood over my head and dropped to the ground. Pressing my forehead to the dirt, I curled up like a turtle, lacing my fingers behind my neck as an explosion of glass roared.
5
VALEK
The glass walls and ceiling of the house shattered with an eruption of sound. Unable to reach Yelena in time, Valek watched in horror as razor-sharp shards and jagged chunks crashed down onto her huddled form. The force of the impact sent glass flying in all directions. He stumbled back, covering his face with his hands. Pinpricks of pain pierced his legs, arms and torso.
“Holy snow cats!” Janco yelled next to him.
When the noise died, Valek yanked his hands down. He raced along the side of the house, searching for Yelena in the heaping piles of broken glass. The gray fabric of her cloak poked through a mound. An ice-cold dread filled his heart when he spotted the blood. Without hesitation, he waded into the ruins. The glass crunched, popped and cracked under his boots.
“Careful,” Janco said as he followed.
They reached Yelena’s side. She was buried. They removed the big slabs and brushed off as much as possible. She tried to move, but her cloak was still pinned.
“Easy, love,” he said, relieved she was conscious. “Let us free you first.”
Yelena stilled. Blood soaked her back from dozens of slivers, but the real concern was a large triangle-shaped piece that jutted from her left side, just below her ribs. Janco pointed to it and mimed a yanking motion. Valek shook his head. They’d remove the dangerous one after they assessed where it had hit her.
Working together, Valek and Janco cleared the rest of the glass and freed her. By the time they finished, blood dripped from his and Janco’s hands from the numerous cuts they’d gotten.
“Can you stand?” he asked her.
“Yes.” She pushed up to a sitting position. All the color drained from her face. “Uh...maybe not. How bad—” She noticed the shard.
“Let’s get you out of here first.” He helped Yelena to her feet and supported her as they navigated the uneven debris.
Onora waited for them. She had retrieved the first-aid kit from Kiki’s saddle. Once they cleared the house, Valek removed her ruined cloak and she sank to the ground. He cut away part of her shirt to expose the worst injury. It looked deep, and he worried it might have pierced her stomach. At least it wasn’t close enough to endanger the baby, if she was in fact pregnant.
Yelena inspected the damage. “It shouldn’t bleed out when it’s removed, but the wound will need to be sealed.”
Good thing the first-aid kit contained a jar of Rand’s glue. The Commander’s late chef had invented an edible adhesive for his cakes that also worked on skin.
“Let’s take care of these others first,” Valek said. “Do you want me to pour the medicinal Curare on your back?” Yelena’s father had supplied them with a watered-down version of the drug for this contingency.
“Save it for when you seal the serious wounds.”
Being the only one without cuts on her hands, Onora used a pair of tweezers to remove the slivers from Yelena’s back and the back of her head. Onora peeled off Yelena’s tunic as she worked. Janco hovered, getting in the way.
“Do a sweep of the area. Make sure no one is around,” Valek ordered him. “If it’s secure, we’ll camp here for the night.”
“Yes, sir.” Janco dashed off.
“Thanks,” Onora said. She continued, creating a pile of bloody pieces next to her. “It could have been worse. The cloak’s fabric stopped a bunch.” Onora continued to pluck glass from Yelena’s skin and then her hair.
Valek hated seeing Yelena hurt. A helpless frustration boiled up his throat, and the desire to murder the person who’d harmed her pulsed with every heartbeat. If she reclaimed her magic, he’d never take her healing powers for granted again.
“Valek, attend to your wounds,” Onora said, shooing him away. “You can’t help me with bloody fingers.”
He stifled a protest—she had a point. And now that she had mentioned them, pain flared to life. Multiple stings peppered his body and blood stained his clothes. Valek pulled glass from his skin, then washed his hands and wrapped a bandage around his right palm, which had sustained the largest gash. He’d save the glue for Yelena.
When Onora finished, he knelt next to his heart mate and met her gaze. “Ready?”
She nodded.
He grasped the triangular shard and yanked it out in one quick motion. She gasped. Blood poured from the wound. Pressing a bandage on it, Valek stanched the flow as she lay on her uninjured side. When the surge eased, he rubbed Curare around and in the injury, then inspected it. It wasn’t as deep as he feared. Relieved, he used Rand’s glue and sealed the gash before tending to the others.
In the time it took for Janco to return and build a campfire, Yelena’s cuts had been cleaned and wrapped in bandages, and she’d changed into fresh clothes. Despite her protests, Valek tucked her into her bedroll, insisting she rest. The sun balanced on the crest of the hill and darkness would soon fill the valley.
Janco boiled water for one of Leif’s healing teas. “I knew those brothers were up to no good. They must have doubled back after they left us.”
“Did you see them?” Valek asked.
“No, they were gone by the time I did my sweep. The crossbow must have been hidden somewhere nearby.”
“Crossbow?” Onora asked Janco.
“Of course a cros
sbow. How else could they have shattered the glass from a distance? It had to be a bolt.”
It made sense, but Valek had felt a brush of magic right before the walls exploded. “I think it was magic.”
“But I thought you checked,” Janco said.
“I did.” He’d not only circled the building, but touched the glass walls to ensure no magical alarms had been installed.
“It was a booby trap,” Yelena said, pushing up to her elbow.
“Then what set it off?” Janco asked.
She gazed at the fire as if in thought. “There was a piece of parchment on the ground. As soon as I picked it up, the glass started cracking. It must have triggered the trap.”
“A magical booby trap?” Janco cursed. “Oh, that’s just wonderful. The more I learn about magic, the more I hate it.”
Valek considered. “Was there a message on the paper?”
“I didn’t have time to look,” Yelena said. “It’s probably still there.”
Janco sprang to his feet. “I’ll get it.” He crunched through the debris. Cracks and pops marked his noisy passage. After a few minutes, he returned with the folded note and a murderous expression on his face.
Janco handed it to Valek. “Read it.”
Valek unfolded the parchment. One word had been written in black ink.
“Gotcha.”
Fury burned in his chest. Owen would pay for this little stunt the next time Valek encountered him. And he wouldn’t allow Owen to catch him in a null shield. Oh no. Valek had no intention of letting the magician know he was in mortal danger. Not even with a note.
“Let me see.” Yelena held out her hand. Small cuts crisscrossed her knuckles.
He passed it to her.
She huffed. “Typical Owen.”
“How do you know it was Owen?” Onora asked.
“He’s the only one of the magicians who can set a trap like this,” Yelena explained. “Rika is limited to magical illusions, and Tyen can only move objects.”
“What else can Owen do?” She poured hot water into a teacup and gave it to Yelena.
