Peacemaker (9780698140820) by K. A. Stewart

forcing the chaotic power into patterns, logical forms that could be used with exquisitely fine control.
“Schild.”
    Like the tumblers of a lock clicking into place, the air around him solidified into a shield, crystal clear and impenetrable. Only the sight of a few bushes curling their branches against an unseen surface indicated where the boundaries of his bubble were. His breath sounded tinny, as if his head were inside a large jar, and he knew he had a limited amount of time before his air ran out. Impenetrable meant that nothing got in, not even air.
    Something moved to his left, and he snapped his head in that direction.
    She sat not ten yards distant on the back of a painted horse, the animal’s brown and white markings seeming to be a pattern cast by the leaf-dappled sunshine. The large beast snorted softly, its nostrils fluttering as it tossed its head. Caleb saw that it had one blue eye and one brown, and it eyed him with the same mild curiosity as its rider. The Indian woman’s raven hair was twined into twin braids, hanging forward on each side of her neck, and her garments were clearly of tanned hides, decorated in subtle patterns with yellow and green quills. Her black eyes held no animosity as she stared at him, her head tilted slightly to one side.
    Caleb stared at her, the first native he’d ever seen in person. He could see her tanned legs, bare between her high moccasins and the hem of her dress, muscled and strong. No white woman he’d ever seen would ride astride, much less with her skirts hiked up above her knees, but it seemed natural here in this wild place. Her hands were clenched in the horse’s mane, and the animal’s ears were perked forward, obviously waiting for some command from its rider. Where the sun touched her face, her skin glowed like warm honey.
    They gazed at each other for long silent moments, two worlds touching for perhaps the first time. She didn’t seem angry, or even afraid, merely cautious. And the longer he looked, the more a glint of humor crept into her dark eyes. She found him amusing.
    Abruptly, her head jerked up, and she stared over Caleb’s head in the direction of the Anderson homestead. A heartbeat later, he heard the voices, too.
    â€œPeacemaker?”
    â€œAgent Marcus?”
    They had come looking for him, finally.
    The southern bird called again, the question taking on an imperative tone. “Low-high?”
    The Indian woman hesitated for one moment, glancing between Caleb and his would-be rescuers, and something in Caleb’s chest clenched.
Go! Don’t let them find you here!
Almost as if she heard him, she pursed her lips, whistling an answer. “High-low-low.” Nudging the horse with her knees, she backed it into the underbrush and disappeared.
    Almost belatedly, Caleb remembered to dismiss his shield, letting the power trickle through the length of his staff into the ground beneath him. He could feel the spits and sparks of it die out abruptly, snuffed to nothing somewhere in the soil. There was nullstone in the mountains then, the chalky rock that could absorb and still any amount of power. It was far enough from the surface that it hadn’t hampered his abilities, but it was there nonetheless.
    â€œAgent Marcus? Can you hear us?” They were getting closer. Caleb could hear several men crashing through the bushes, no doubt obliterating the tracks he’d so carefully followed to this spot.
    â€œYes! I’m here!” He glanced one last time to the tree where the Indian woman had sat watching him, but there was nothing to show she’d ever been there. Turning, he began the climb back up the hill.
    They were townsfolk, not Warner’s men. Jack and Peter were very happy to see him, both of them eyeing the trees around as if they expected an entire tribe of Dog Soldiers to come barreling down on them at any moment.
    â€œYou shouldn’t wander off like that, Agent Marcus, not