“Rest in peace,” I said. The knives clattered to the ground. Their clean blades shone in the sunlight.

“And I thought Yelena had eccentric powers,” Leif said. “Finding lost souls seems normal compared to commanding dead bees.”

“Not funny.” I collected the glass spiders that had been scattered during the fight and found my sais. “Have you seen any of my bees?”

“After Boar knocked you unconscious, Aubin ordered him to take them.”

“Why? They can’t use them.”

Leif picked up Aubin’s weapons and stood. “I’m guessing Aubin has excellent knife-throwing skills. It’s a good way to attack from a distance and to attack without being seen. Just like your bees.” He met my gaze. “Just how far can your bees travel? Could they find someone out of sight?”

“I don’t know.”

“Neither does anyone else. Theoretically, you could send a bee to assassinate the Commander in Ixia without leaving the Keep. Valek would no longer be the most infamous assassin. Perhaps Aubin was on to something.”

As Leif’s words sunk in, fingers of ice brushed my skin. I had used my spiders and bees for self-defense, never once considering other possibilities. Why? As Devlen had said, I was too nice. If I wanted to stop Tricky and blood magic, I needed to start thinking like them.

Quartz seemed more than happy to continue our journey. We arrived at the top of The Cliffs by midafternoon. A hundred-and-fifty-foot drop-off ended at a sandy beach. Waves capped with white foam crashed along the shoreline and around the strips of rocks, pointing toward the horizon. Sunlight glittered on the sea’s blue-green surface.

The tangy smell of the salt water reached us. I inhaled a deep breath. No matter how strong the storm, I would always feel safe here. The cries and squawks of seabirds combined with the shushing of the waves—a welcoming sound.

“You have got to be kidding me,” Leif said.

Mounted on Moonlight, Kade waited for the rest of us to join him at the start of the trail.

“That’s not a path, that’s…suicide.” Leif hunched over his saddle. “That’s not wide enough to fit a sheep, let alone a full-grown horse.”

“The horses fit fine,” Kade said. “We use them to haul supplies to the caverns.”

“Caverns?” Skippy asked. His pale face reflected his queasiness. He hadn’t said more than two words since last night’s attack.

“You’ll see.” I dismounted. “Unless you’re a Stormdancer or a mountain goat, it’s better to walk down. Concentrate on the trail and don’t look past the edge. Go on, Kade. We’ll meet you on the beach.”

He clicked his tongue, urging Moonlight down the steep path. Show-off. Good thing Sandseed horses refused to wear shoes or else he would have skated the whole way at that speed.

I glanced at Beryl’s hooves. “You better go last. In case she slides.”

“Slides?” Skippy turned whiter.

Since I was the only one with experience, I led the rest. The trail snaked back and forth, cutting through ripples in the rock face. Wind and water had sculpted The Cliffs. Wings of rock jutted and caves pockmarked the wall. The path crossed natural bridges and skirted around columns.

When we reached the beach, Leif fell to his knees with a dramatic cry. “Solid ground! I’ll never take you for granted again.”

“Are you going to kiss the sand?” I asked.

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Now I’m the one being silly?”

“Yes.”

I led them to the beach stable. Made of bamboo and thatch, the stable could house five horses. Kade rubbed down Moonlight.

Skippy scanned the building. “You were serious about the horses swimming.”

Kade snorted. “If a storm approaches, we’ll take the horses up to the storm cave. For now, it’s more comfortable down here.”

When everyone had unsaddled their horses and settled them in stalls, I showed them the main cavern the Stormdancers used. Big and bright with lanterns, it was at beach level. Raiden stirred the contents of a large pot over a cook fire. Various people lounged about on cots or chairs, but a woman and man jerked to their feet when they saw us approach.

“Bout time,” Raiden said. He straightened and shook hands with Leif and Skippy. His skin had tanned to a rich brown and more gray flecked his short black hair. The wrinkles on his face were a lighter tan color as if he always squinted while in the sun.

“A wide-brimmed hat would help with that raccoon look,” I teased. Even though I knew his age to be around forty, he appeared a lot older than the last time I visited. Perhaps the stress of the glassmakers’ murders and having his strongest Stormdancer kidnapped had aged him.

“At least I don’t look like a ghost,” he said. He beckoned to the couple hovering nearby. “This is Ziven and Zetta, brother-and-sister glassmakers. And—come on, you lazy bums—our other Stormdancers, Prin, Wick and Tebbs.”

Another round of introductions was made. The Stormdancers didn’t bother to shake our hands. They waved hello from their seats. I knew Prin and Wick. Prin matched my size and age, though her silver-colored eyes gave her an exotic air. Bearded and burly, Wick grunted a greeting.

Tebbs had pulled her brown hair into an intricate knot on top of her head. Her gaze swept us with sharp interest, but she glanced away as if bored when I tried to make eye contact. She appeared to be near Heli’s age of sixteen, but she acted like an older woman, copying Prin’s mannerisms and gestures.