CHAPTER 2

GLASS
Glass crunched under his boot heels, forming an intricate web streaked with red sunset. The wind stirred, tugging
at the black coils of his long hair until they whipped around and slapped against his Threk-hide duster. The scent
of sulfur rode that gust, along with something else: the sweet, noxious odor of rot. Behind the sand rover bent
roll cage a drift of blonde hair billowed across the sand. Aluminum flakes glinted against the scarred rock face
where the vehicle had slammed into the red granite.
His gaze flicked past his sorrel mule standing patiently a few feet away, towards the western bank of the blind
gully. There, burnt and still reeking of firebrand and sulfur, crates lay strewn about in ashy ruin. A dead mule
sprawled against the biggest crate, three legs sticking straight into the air in a pantomime of some grisly sundial.
Around the forty yard radius of wreckage, a fine layer of black glass streaked the scorched sand, catching the light
of the evening sun, flame red.
The scout stood there for a long time, brain mute of thoughts beyond the simple question: What the hell happened
here, Gren?

No logical answer came to Kaitar mind. His feet uprooted themselves and he inched around the wrecked
vehicle and squatted, staring fixedly at the body crushed between the Draggin rover and the rocks.
She was little more than a putrefying smear on the sand. Flies had been at her for days and some bigger creature
had chewed half her torso to shreds. One purple-tipped breast bloomed from the shredded petals of a blood stained
blouse. Worse yet, white worms squirmed in the sockets where her eyes had been. She might have been pretty
once, but her end had not been. Those rose-bud lips were peeled back in a mute scream. A small Harper cross
winked from a silver chain around her throat.
Kaitar waved away the fat, glistening flies and leaned close to inspect the necklace. His stomach knotted in
revulsion as he slid his fingers around the pendant and gave a quick, hard tug. The chain snapped, sending more
flies skyward. They hummed angrily around the scout head, ignored.
Slipping the pendant into his pocket, he stood, turned from the body and moved towards the burned crates with
quick, glass-shattering strides. A gleam caught his eye. Near one crate, a wedge of something metallic pushed just

above the line of ash. As Kaitar knelt down he glimpsed his own face mirrored in the translucent black surface:
angular and lean, accented by a sharp nose, lips jerked down into a frown of concentration, pupils mere slits
against bright amber. He ignored the reflection, plucked the small, rectangular object from the sulfur-stinking earth
and wiped away the soot.
A tin cigarette case.
Inside were four cigarettes. Kaitar sniffed at them, making a face at the heavy, cloying scent of tobacco. He
been out of his own pepper bloom smokes for days and the urge to light one up already nagged at him, but he wasn
that desperate. Not yet. He snapped the tin case shut and rubbed his thumb against the smooth surface before
tucking it into his duster. His face screwed down into a scowl as he walked the perimeter of the devastation,
hoping in vain to find one missed track, one small sign to tell him Gren Turren was alive.
After circling three more times, Kaitar gave up and stood looking over the calamity with a scowl as deep as the
gully itself. The only tracks there were those his riding boots had smashed into the thin glass. Beyond the radius of
melted sand, the wind had already smeared away any other print. Not even a wheel rut dimpled the land to tell him
what direction the attackers had come from or where they had taken the caravan.
Why the hell would they take an Enforcer hostage and not just kill him?
As Kaitar shoved that unsolved riddle to the back of his mind, he saw the sun lurking low on the Shy'war-Anquai's
western horizon, glaring down in red anger as it conceded defeat to the oncoming night. It was time to go. A dry
gully was no place to camp, nor would it be safe spot to radio into Dogton. Whoever had caused the calamity
might come sweeping down the steep banks at any moment to finish picking through the wreckage.
The molly snorted and Kaitar glanced over his shoulder to see what had disturbed the animal. Her long ears
pricked forward, nostrils flaring as she swung her head to stare eastward along the opposite bank. He followed her
gaze; fifty yards away, a scaled form slid around the thorny scrub and along a rocky outcrop. It stopped in the
lengthening shadows at the mouth of the gully, then resumed its prowling.
Shit. I see you there. Where are your buddies?
The Threk perched itself on a rock and curled its long tail around the length of its body. It yawned then, pale pink
jaws lined with curved teeth. A crest of red-brown feathers lifted along the base of its skull as it closed its maw and
fixed a yellow, reptilian stare on Kaitar. He fingered the old revolver holstered at his belt, then decided against it. A
single Threk wasn likely to attack, but others would be close behind, ready to glut down what they hadn
finished earlier. A Shyiine scout and a red mule would not be difficult prey for a pack of them. Kaitar reached for

the reins, swung into the saddle and gave the molly her head. The mule haunches bunched as she heaved up the
bank with the grace of an antelope, eager to be away from the scaled menace. As they broke over the horizon to
high ground, Kaitar turned the mule north; she slid into a mile-eating trot. The molly ears swiveled back until
they lay flat, mutely proclaiming her annoyance. Kaitar patted her neck, slim, calloused fingers scratching at the
dusty mane.
Sorry Molly, I don think we l get much rest tonight.
The gale blew incessantly. Sand swirled around Kaitar in a torrent until the long shadow of mule and rider were
lost in a red haze of dust. They trotted on for another mile before Kaitar reined the mule to a halt. Molly snorted
hard, then went to nosing at a patch of dry grass the sun hadn yet obliterated. Kaitar hooked his left leg over
the pommel and rifled through the saddle bag. He jerked free a small two-way and swore as he struggled to pull
the radio antennae to its full four foot length. He stared at the old Veraleid radio, hating it. The impulse to hurl
it over his shoulder and have a cigarette gnawed his thoughts the same way his mount ripped at the grass.
I bet after I get done talking to Neiro I going to be sucking down all four of those damned cigarettes.
When he flipped the on switch, the thing whined back at him, daring him to try for a connection in such weather.
He clenched his teeth and propped the radio on his lap.
Stop fucking around. Just get it over with.
For a long moment the only answer was the hiss of white noise as the signal fell away. He had a vague hope the
radio wouldn be able to connect, that he have to wait until morning to make his report. Something, anything,
to put off dealing with Neiro.
No such luck. The tell-tale click of a connection squashed that little dream like a bug.
I out by Bywater Gully. Didn find your caravan. The Draggin wrecked. No sign of Gren, no sign of the
driver. Cargo is burnt and one dead mule. Glass sign all over the damned place from Firebrand. Had to be Gren .
He balanced the radio awkwardly against his chest and fished a cigarette from the tin. He didn light it; just
having a smoke there, rank tobacco or not, was a comfort. here a corpse, too. A woman. She was wearing a
Harper cross. Looks like the rover ran her down and I don think it was Gren driving when it happened.
No answer except the crackling hum of the radio.
Boss, did you hear that? Wind pretty bad out here.

Neiro's voice broke through with the delicacy of a hammer. ho did it and where did they go?
Wasn the Araz edar or any other Shyiine tribe, I can say that much for sure. Too far east, not their usual
territory.Kaitar fumbled for the lighter in the pack, unable to hold back the urge any longer. The taste of the tarry,
sweet herb made him light-headed as he puffed. y guess is squatters, Neiro. And probably Sulari squatters at
that. They e got something going on where Bywater used to be.
A long silence followed and Kaitar wondered if the connection had dropped. He was about to try it again when
Neiro reply came through, almost swallowed by static.
What the total loss, by your estimate? Clean barrels. No half-barrel-bullshit.
Now he really going to go through the roof.
Kaitar chewed the end of the cigarette with his sharp teeth. He wanted to ride south to the mild coast and never
have to think about Dogton or Neiro Precaius again. But guilt settled right in his belly along with his frustration. If
he did that, just rode south with a middle-finger salute to the whole shebang, he be leaving Gren Turren to his
fate. Gren, the deadpan asshole he didn like but had worked with for almost two decades. He sighed. bout
four-hundred barrels, Boss. Clean,he hesitated, then added didn track past the gully, though.
Why? That what my scout does, isn it?There was a keen, cutting edge to Neiro tone now. rack? Find
information? Find my caravan and my Enforcers when they go missing?
Anger coiled low in Kaitar chest, threatening to strike. He choked it down with an effort and took another drag
off the cigarette. His hands shook. Neiro would not care to hear the truth, would not care about the raw fear.
need to resupply. I need back up. My mule tired, I almost out of water and food. I out here with almost
nothing, Neiro. I e been out here fo-
You e telling me you didn even go see if it was the Sulari?
Kaitar lips wrenched into a snarl. o I need to spell it out for you Neiro? I alone. I have no backup, no
supplies. You want your scout to go missing too? Because that what will happen if I get caught scoping
Bywater. If they had enough men to take Gren, what the fuck do you think they do to me? He bitten the
cigarette in half and one end lay smoldering in the sand. He swore under his breath, knuckles white where they
gripped the radio. Molly stamped, tail swishing as she caught the hum of anxiety.

Then stay there and wait for backup. You can camp near the gully, can you? I can have an Enforcer and a
team of Scrappers there infour days. You l scout them into Bywater.
Kaitar logical mind screamed at him to keep his damned mouth shut, but the words spit from his tongue, thick
with the Sulari accent of his youth and dripping with venom. tay here and wait to be ambushed? You don
think they have lookouts posted near that gully? I lucky I didn get caught already. I a scout, Neiro, not a
fucking Nah att that can turn invisible and go haunting the Shy ar-Anquai on your orders.
You get your ass back to town. Now. If you e not back here in three days, don bother coming back at all.
Molly snorted, lifting her head in annoyance as connection dropped into white noise, then died away all together.
Kaitar heaved the radio with a grunt and it smashed against a rock, breaking into a dozen pieces. For a moment,
he sat staring at it, satisfaction seeping to bitter resignation. As he had predicted, there would be no rest that
night.
He kicked the mule into a northbound trot, towards Dogton.