Thalor flew forward as the butt of the guard’s staff hit him squarely between the shoulder blades. Two guards had been assigned to follow him and make sure his final mission was accomplished. They’d beaten him ragged, and now they stood on the torchlit drawbridge, waiting for him to pick himself up and lead them to his men. As he lay there, bloodied face pressed against the roughly hewn drawbridge, death almost sounded appealing.
The pain thundering throughout his chest meant he probably had a cracked rib or two, and he was sure his nose was broken. But he’d been in worse pain, and if he didn’t move quickly, death would be upon him whether he wished it or not. Dawn was nearing; there was no time to waste. He stumbled to his feet and lurched down the steps to the familiar boat that was tied up at the dock.
“Get in,” the voice of the taller guard boomed behind him.
Thal complied. The taller guard cast them off and clumsily landed behind Thal, threatening to upturn the small vessel. Before long, they were through the moat and Thal was rowing them east toward the wetland. The guards had talked quietly for a few minutes, but now an uneasy silence had settled over the river. Actually, it wasn’t much of a silence at all. The waters rippled with the gentle disruption of the oars, and the waking river dragons could be heard chuffing in the distance. The haunting screech of an owl reverberated off the swamp trees as he rowed them into the dense trees. He knew these twists and turns like the face of an old friend. Right, left, left, right; an endless maze of moss and roots. There was no chance that the guards, who so rarely left the palace grounds, would ever find their way in or out if he weren’t with them.
This thought lit a fire within his chest. While the guards arrested his men, he could easily make an escape. Forget the boat—he could cross the wetland on foot. It wouldn’t be as quick, but by the time the guards sent for help or found their way out (if they ever could), he would be long gone. The wetland grew denser and the swamp trees above dripped with warm water that landed on his face like tears. He wiped them away and thought of Ravena. This plan was perfect, except for the fact that he could forget about ever seeing her again. Of course, he was facing banishment at best, so the likelihood of ever seeing her again was slim to none anyway. At least this way he could keep his pride and begin his roguish lifestyle again somewhere untouched. Yes, this was a good plan. He shook her out of his head and began to strategize.
The shorter guard (whom Thal had come to know as Morris) motioned behind Thal. A dim light flickered in the near distance.
“Is this the place?” He whispered.
Thal replied with a single nod.
“Here’s what’s going to happen,” Morris continued. “You’re going to wait in the boat and you’re not going to try anything. Heinrich and I will take care of the men and then you’ll take us all out of here, nice and easy like. Understood?”
Another nod.
“Right,” the guard dropped his voice to a whisper. “Take us up close to it.”
Thal expertly guided the boat closer until it was flush with the edge of the dock. The waters were low—Thal’s head barely cleared the dock. Now was the time to play it safe. The light they’d seen coming around the corner was the campfire, now untended. Zip, Feberen, and Bergon slept soundly nearby. Bergon’s drunken snoring practically rattled the dock. Thal nimbly crossed the boat and tied it to the dock in a slip knot.
The dock groaned loudly as the lanky Heinrich stumbled onto it. Bergon snorted and rubbed his nose. The guards held their breath. Bergon let out a dreamlike sigh, then rolled over onto his side. Morris smacked Heinrich’s leg. “Watch it!” He mouthed. Heinrich grimaced an apology as he offered Morris a hand out of the boat. Morris, however, missed the dock entirely. He stepped straight into the river with more noise than Thal would’ve thought possible. Everything seemed to happen at once. Bergon immediately stood like a great tree being felled in reverse. “Wake up, boys!” He roared, and it was on. He grabbed Heinrich by the throat while Feberen and Zip attacked Morris in full force. Thal laid as flat as he could in the boat, waiting for just the right moment.
That moment came when Morris wrapped Zip in a full headlock. Thal knew no one would notice him sneaking away through the cries of pain and the exchange of blows. He pulled the boat around the dock until the stern made contact with the shore. His ribcage pulsed with pain as he grabbed the tree by the roots and swung up and onto the land. Rope in hand, he leaned over the boat to release the slipknot. As he did, something fell out of his pocket and clattered in the bottom of the boat. And as the boat floated away, he saw it there—Ravena’s broken piece of jade.
In that moment, everything intensified. The sounds of men yelling, fists on flesh, and bone meeting bone, the lapping of the river and the rumbling of the water dragons. The humidity and the warmth of the wetland coiled around him like a great snake, and with every beat of his heart in his bruised and broken chest, the pounding blood in his veins seemed to say run, run, run. But the intensity of her in his memory cut through the atmosphere like a blade. He could see her eyes, open and honest. He could hear her laugh echoing in his head. He felt her hand over his heart. He gritted his teeth. There was still time to run. It was now or never. He could leave all this behind and be free, truly free, for the first time in his life. The boat was further away now but through the darkness, the jade glowed. And then he remembered.
I see that light in you, Thal. Her words reached back to him from the past and broke through the sound barrier in his mind. He wasn’t even aware of why he was doing it—but all of a sudden he knew that he would never truly be free without her. He threw himself into the water and swam toward the boat as quickly as he could. The pain had disappeared; all he felt and all he saw was her. If she could see something—anything—good in him, he could become good. He wanted to be good. He would be good. Not for her, but because of her. He grabbed the rail of the boat and pulled it back to the dock, then swung himself in. He picked up the jade and pressed it to his lips. She wasn’t here, but he felt championed just by the thought of her.
A shout brought him back to the reality of what was happening. Morris had cuffed Zip and was pinning Feberen, but Heinrich—the tall guard—was flat on his back, Bergon’s fists falling upon his body like rain. Thal buttoned the jade back into his breast pocket and grabbed Heinrich’s staff, then leapt onto the dock as if he wasn’t injured at all. With a yell and a full swing of his arm, he ran up behind Bergon and brought the flat of the staff down on his skull with an almighty crack. The mountainous Bergon let out a long, slow croak and collapsed, unconscious. Thal knelt and lifted Heinrich’s head off the ground. The guard labored for breath, his blood-lined lips formed a cracked smile. “I thought we told you to stay on the boat.”
Thal chuckled. “Right, good thinking.”
“You saved my life,” he said between halting breaths.
“Shh, not now,” Thal said. “We’re gonna get you out of here.” He lifted Heinrich over his shoulder and set him gingerly in the bow of the boat. One by one, Thal secured the three handcuffed men in the boat. Zip and Feberen complied rather begrudgingly, but it took both Thal and Morris to move the unconscious Bergon. Thal climbed in last and took up the oars. With a final look over his shoulder toward the new horizon, he rowed them out of the wetland just as the dawn kissed the sky behind the trees. His body roared with pain, but he’d never felt lighter and more alive. And he felt the jade against his chest with each pull of the oars.
River of Glass is a lighthearted fantasy novelette about lies, loyalty, and the price of redemption, with a slow-burn romance beneath the current. This is a tonal departure from my usual work, written just for fun, and it will be shared here in eleven installments.
Chapter Nine coming on March 3rd, 2026.
© Sophie Alexander, 2026. All rights reserved. Do not repost without permission.
