Glass Collection: Storm Glass / Sea Glass / Spy Glass

Glass Collection: Storm Glass / Sea Glass / Spy Glass Maria V. Snyder Storm Glass Untrained. Untested. Unleashed. With her unique magical abilities, Opal has always felt unsure of her place at Sitia’s magic academy. But when the Stormdancer clan needs help, Opal’s knowledge makes her the perfect choice until the mission goes awry. Pulling her powers in unfamiliar directions, Opal finds herself tapping into a new kind of magic as stunningly potent as it is frightening. Now Opal must deal with plotters out to destroy the Stormdancer clan, as well as a traitor in their midst. With danger and deception rising around her, will Opal’s untested abilities destroy her or save them all? Sea Glass Her power remained hidden until challenged by enemy forces. Student glass magician Opal Cowan’s newfound ability to steal a magician’s powers makes her too powerful. Ordered to house arrest, Opal dares defy her imprisonment, searching for Ulrick, the man she thinks she loves. Thinks because she is sure another mannow her prisonerhas switched souls with Ulrick. In hostile territory, without proof or allies, Opal isn’t sure whom to trust. And now everyone is after Opal’s special powers for their own deadly gain Spy Glass An undercover mission leads to danger, adventure and an impossible choice After siphoning her own blood magic, Opal Cowan has lost her powers and is now immune to the effects of magic. Now an outsider looking in, Opal spies through the glass on those with the powers she once had. Until spying through the glass becomes her new power. Suddenly, the beautiful pieces she makes flash in the presence of magic. And then she discovers that some of her blood has been stolen and that finding it may help her regain her powers for good… The Glass Collection Maria V. Snyder www.miraink.co.uk (http://www.miraink.co.uk) Storm Glass Maria V. Snyder Storm Glass “We have a mission for you,” Zitora explained. She had twisted her honey-brown hair into a complex braid. The end of the braid reached her hips, but she fidgeted with it, twirling it around and through her fingers. A mission from the Masters! I leaned forward. “The Stormdancers’ glass orbs have been shattering,” Master Jewelrose said. “Oh.” I relaxed in my chair. Not a magical mission. “Do you know how important these orbs are, child?” Master Bloodgood asked. I remembered my lessons about the Stormdancer Clan. Their magicians – called Stormdancers – had the unique ability to siphon a storm’s energy into an orb, taming the storm’s killing winds and rain, and providing an energy source for the clan. But why me? I was still learning. “You need a master glassmaker. My father–” “Time is of the essence, child.” Master Bloodgood’s tone saddened. “When an orb shatters, it kills a Stormdancer.” THE TERRITORY OF IXIA To my sister, Karen Philips, for all the advice, support and good times (BFF). This book has a definite sister vibe! Acknowledgements Thanks go to my husband, Rodney, and my children, Luke and Jenna. For being patient when I need to finish a book, and for not complaining (too much) when I travel to book signings and conventions. Without you three, there would be no books to write. A special thank-you goes out to my critique partner, Kimberley J. Howe. She rose to the challenge when I hit a dead end and dumped three hundred pages of this book on her, crying for help. Your encouragement, phone calls and comments helped pull this book together. Huge thanks go to all the hardworking people at MIRA Books. Your enthusiasm and love of books has made working with you a joy. Special kudos to my editor, Mary-Theresa Hussey, whose expert comments greatly improve my stories. Thanks to my agent, Robert Mecoy, whose help has been invaluable, and to his daughter, Dash, for her wonderful support. For this book I once again enrolled in a variety of glass classes at the Goggle Works. I would like to thank a quartet of teachers and artists who helped me: Helen Tegeler, Sandra Kaye, Karen Lesniak and Louise Mehaffey. I think I’m addicted to glass. And a continuing heartfelt thanks to my army of Book Commandos! Your efforts in the fIeld are deeply appreciated! Special mention to those who have gone well above and beyond the call of duty: Suzanne Ledford, Alethea Allarey, Patrice de Avila, Elizabeth Darrach, Jeff Young, Heather Tebbs, Megan Knight, Jamie Perry and Jen Runkle. The Commander would be proud. 1 THE HOT AIR pressed against my face as I entered the glass factory. The heat and the smell of burning coal surrounded me in a comforting embrace. I paused to breathe in the thick air. The roar of the kilns sounded as sweet as my mother’s voice. “Opal!” Aydan yelled above the noise. “Are you going to stand there all day? We have work to do.” He gestured with a thin gnarled hand. I hurried to join him. Working in the heat had turned his gray hair into a frizzy mop. Dirt streaked his hands. He grimaced in pain when he sat at his workbench, rubbing his lower back with a fist. “You’ve been shoveling coal again,” I admonished. He tried to look innocent, but before he could lie, I asked, “What happened to your apprentice?” “Ran off once he figured out how hard it is to turn fire into ice.” Aydan grunted. “Well, I’m here now.” “You’re late.” “Sorry, I had a … test.” I sighed. Another frustrating, fruitless endeavor. Not only had I failed to light the fire, but I knocked over the candles, spilling hot wax all over my classmate Pazia’s clothes and burning her skin. Her expensive silk tunic was ruined. She sneered in disdain when I offered to replace her shirt. Nothing new. Pazia’s hostility spanned my entire four years at the Keep. Why would I expect my last year to be any different? After starting my fifth year of lessons at the Magician’s Keep, I had hoped to be able to do more with my magic. Pazia’s abilities had grown so much since we sat next to each other during our very first session that the Master Magicians considered allowing her to take the Master-level test. I’d learned about Sitia’s history, politics, how to fight and about the uses for magic, but my ability to tap into the power source remained elusive. Doubts flared and the nagging feeling of being limited to one magical skill churned in my chest. And it didn’t help my confidence when I overheard my fellow students calling me the One-Trick Wonder. “Jealousy,” Aydan had said when I told him about my nickname. “You saved Sitia.” I thought of the day—over four years ago—when I helped Liaison Yelena capture those evil souls. She had done all the work, I was merely a conduit. I tried to downplay my involvement, but Aydan remained stubborn. “You’re a hero and those children can’t stand it.” Remembering his words made me smile. Calling fifteen to twenty-year-olds children was typical for Aydan, a proud curmudgeon. He tapped my arm with a blowpipe. “Stop daydreaming and gather me a slug.” I grabbed the hollow rod and opened the oven. Intense light burst from the furnace as if a piece of the sun was trapped inside. I spun the end of the rod in the molten glass and twisted it up and out, removing taffy like ball before my eyebrows and eyelashes could be singed off again. The cherry-red slug on the end of the iron pulsed as if alive. Aydan blew through the pipe then covered the hole. A small bubble appeared in the molten glass. Resting the pipe on the metal arms of his gaffer’s bench, Aydan rolled the pipe back and forth, shaping the glass. I helped him as he created an intricate vase with a twist at the bottom so the piece actually rested on its side yet could still hold water. In his hands, turning glass into art appeared to be an easy task. I loved the unique properties of molten glass which could be molded into such wonderful objects. We worked for hours, but the time flew. When he finished his artwork, Aydan stood on creaky legs and said the words that were the reason I came to help him after my Keep classes. “Your turn.” He exchanged places with me and grabbed a hollow pipe. While he gathered a slug, I made sure all the metal tools lying on the bench were in their proper places. All I needed was my annoying younger brother telling me to hurry, and my patient older sister helping me to complete the feeling of being in my family’s glass factory. Sitting at the bench was home—familiar and comfortable. Here and here alone, I was in control. The possibilities endless and no one could tell me otherwise. All thoughts fled when Aydan placed the pipe in front of me. Glass cooled quickly and I had no time to dwell on anything but shaping the molten ball. Using metal tweezers, I pulled and plucked. When the slug transformed into a recognizable image, I blew through the end of the pipe. The piece’s core glowed as if lit by an inner fire. My one magical trick—the ability to insert a thread of magic inside the glass statue. Only magicians could see the captured light. Aydan whistled in appreciation of the finished piece. Technically his ability to light fires with magic made him a magician, but since he didn’t possess any other talent he hadn’t been invited to study at the Keep. I shouldn’t have been invited, either. I could make my special glass animals at my home in Booruby. “Damn, girl.” Aydan slapped me on the back. “That’s a dead-on copy of Master Jewelrose’s red-tailed hawk! Did you make that for her?” “Yes. She needed another piece.” I never knew what I would create when I sat down at the gaffer’s bench, but my time spent helping Master Jewelrose care for her hawk must have influenced me. The core glowed bright red and called to me with a song of longing. Each of my creations had a distinctive voice that sounded inside me. No one else could hear its call. “See? That’s another talent you have.” He bustled about and placed the hawk into the annealing oven so it could cool slowly. “Magicians can now communicate over vast distances with these animals of yours.” “Only those who have the power of mental communication.” Another skill I lacked, mind reading. For those who possessed the ability, they only needed to hold one of my animals and they could “talk” to each other through the magic trapped inside. I’d admit to feeling a measure of pride over their usefulness, but I would never brag about it. Not like Pazia, who flaunted everything she did. “Pah! It’s still one of the most important discoveries of recent years. Stop being so modest. Here—” he handed me a shovel “—put more coal in the kiln, I don’t want the temperature to drop overnight.” End of pep talk. I scooped up the special white coal and added it to the fire under the kiln. Since Aydan sold his glass pieces as art, he only needed one—a small shop compared to my family’s eight kilns. When I finished, my garments clung to my sweaty skin and strands of my brown hair stuck to my face. Coal dust scratched my throat. “Can you help me mix?” Aydan asked before I could leave. “Only if you promise to hire a new apprentice tomorrow.” He grumbled and grouched, but agreed. We mixed sands from different parts of Sitia. A secret recipe developed generations ago. It would be combined with soda ash and lime before it could be melted into glass. As I tried to trick Aydan into telling me where the pink-colored sand came from, a messenger from the Keep arrived. A first-year student, he wrinkled his nose at the heat. “Opal Cowan?” he asked. I nodded and he huffed. “Finally! I’ve been searching the Citadel for you. You’re wanted back at the Keep.” “Why?” “I don’t know.” “Who wants me?” He glowed with glee as if he were my younger brother delivering news of my impending punishment from our parents. “The Master Magicians.” I had to be in big trouble. No other reason for the Masters to send for me. As I rushed after the messenger—an ambitious fellow to be running errands for the Masters in his first year, and who’d already decided I wasn’t worth talking to—I thought of the mishap this morning with Pazia. She had wanted to get me expelled from my first day. Perhaps she finally succeeded. We hurried through the Citadel’s streets. Even after four years, the city’s construction still amazed me. All the buildings had been built with white marble slabs streaked with green veins. If I was alone, I would have trailed my hands over the walls as I walked, daydreaming of creating a city made of glass. Instead, I ran past the buildings as the brilliant color dulled with the darkening sky. The Keep’s guards waved us through—another bad sign. We vaulted up the stairs two at a time to reach the administration building. Nestled in the northeast corner of the Citadel, the Keep’s campus with its four imposing towers marked the boundaries. Inside, the buildings had been constructed from a variety of colored marble and hardwoods. The administration’s peach-and-yellow blocks used to soothe me, but not today. The messenger abandoned me at the entrance to the Masters’ meeting room. Hot from my sprint, I wanted to remove my cloak, but it hid my sweat-stained shirt and work pants. I rubbed my face, trying to get the dirt off and pulled my long hair into a neat bun. Before I knocked, another possible reason for my summons dawned. I had lingered too long at the glass factory and missed my evening riding lesson. In the last year of instruction at the Keep, the apprentice class learned about horse care and riding to prepare us for when we graduated to magician status. As magicians we would be required to travel around the lands of the eleven clans of Sitia to render aid where needed. Perhaps the Stable Master had reported my absence to the Masters. The image of facing the three magicians and the Stable Master together caused a chill to shake my bones. I turned away from the door, seeking escape. It opened. “Do not hover about, child. You’re not in trouble,” First Magician Bain Bloodgood said. He gestured for me to follow him into the room. With curly gray hair sticking out at odd intervals and a long blue robe, the old man’s appearance didn’t match his status as the most powerful magician in Sitia. In fact, Third Magician Irys Jewelrose’s stern demeanor hinted at more power than Master Bloodgood’s wrinkled face. And if someone passed Second Magician Zitora Cowan in the street, that person would not even think the young woman possessed enough talent to endure the Master-level test. Sitting around an oval table, the three Masters stared at me. I quashed the desire to hide. After all, Master Bloodgood had said I wasn’t in trouble. “Sit down, child,” First Magician said. I perched on the edge of my seat. Zitora smiled at me and I relaxed a bit. We were both members of the Cowan clan, and she always made time from her busy schedule to talk to me. And, at twenty-five years old, she was only six years older than me. I glanced around the room. Maps of Sitia and Ixia decorated the walls, and an oversize geographical map with its edges dropping off the sides covered the mahogany table. “We have a mission for you,” Zitora said. She had twisted her honey-brown hair into a complex braid. The end of the braid reached her hips, but she fidgeted with it, twirling it around and through her fingers. A mission for the Masters! I leaned forward. “The Stormdancers’ glass orbs have been shattering,” Master Jewelrose said. “Oh.” I relaxed in my chair. Not a magical mission. “Do you know how important those orbs are, child?” Master Bloodgood asked. I remembered my lessons about the Stormdance Clan. Their magicians—called Stormdancers—had the unique ability to siphon a storm’s energy into an orb. The benefits were twofold: tame the storm’s killing winds and rain, and provide an energy source for the clan’s other industries. “Very important.” “And this is a critical time of the year. The cooling season is when the storms from the Jade Sea are most frequent and strong,” Zitora said. “But doesn’t the clan have master glassmakers? Surely they can fix the problem?” “The old glassmaker died, child. Those left behind were trained to make the orbs, but the glass is flawed. You need to help them find and correct the problem.” Why me? I was still learning. “You need to send a master glassmaker. My father—” “Is in Booruby with all the other experts, but …” Master Jewelrose paused. “The problem might not be with the glass. Perhaps the old glassmaker used magic when he crafted the orbs. Perhaps magic similar to yours.” My heart melted as if thrown into a kiln. Events had become too hot too quick and the results could have cracks. I had worked with glass since I could remember, yet there was still so much to learn. “When … when do we leave?” “Today,” Zitora said. My alarm must have been obvious. “Time is of the essence, child.” Master Bloodgood’s tone saddened. “When an orb shatters, it kills a Stormdancer.” 2 I GAPED AT Master Bloodgood. There weren’t many Stormdancers born in the clan; to lose even one could threaten the western clans of Sitia. “How many?” “Two have died. The first time an orb failed, the clan thought it was a fluke, after the second, they stopped dancing.” A fire of worry flared in my stomach. Just one full-strength storm could wipe out the four clans whose lands bordered the Jade Sea, leaving behind a wasteland. A huge responsibility. Problems with the glass I could probably handle, but with magic … No way. “Go pack your saddlebags, child. You will leave as soon as you are ready. Zitora will go with you.” “And how many guards will accompany me this time?” She sighed. The entire population of the Keep knew Zitora’s displeasure over being accompanied by guards on her missions. Having only passed the Master-level test five years ago, most magicians still thought of her as an apprentice instead of the second-most-powerful magician. And with the horrible events that led to the death of Roze Featherstone, the former First Magician, the Councillors of Sitia were being overprotective of the three remaining Masters. “Just the two of you this time,” Master Jewelrose said with a smile. “You can move faster.” Zitora stood with a burst of energy. “We’ll leave within the hour.” “Contact us if you need help. Opal, have you finished my new glass animal?” “Yes. It’s at Aydan’s factory. I think you’ll like this one.” “I love them all. It’s a shame they lose their spark after awhile.” Master Jewelrose grew thoughtful. “But it makes sense. The magic inside is a certain quantity. Once used, it’s gone.” “Job security for Opal.” Master Bloodgood stroked the map in front of him. His gaze settled on me. “We have been searching for another magician to apprentice to you. No luck so far. The Council’s been bugging us to share your wonderful glass … messengers.” Right now, I made them for the Masters and for magicians who were on assignment. At least one magician carried one of my glass animals in each town. “It would be helpful if we could find another able to duplicate her skill.” Master Jewelrose agreed. My skill. Singular. The One-Trick Wonder. I should be content with providing those messengers for the magicians. Content with my role in life. But I’d seen the wonders magic can do and I wanted more. Magic and glass had so much in common. Both were fluid. Both held endless potential to be shaped and used in various ways. I desired to gather the magic to me and spin it into a marvel. “Let’s go.” Zitora strode toward the door and I hurried after her. She paused when we reached the outside. Darkness blanketed the Keep’s campus and the smell of burning wood tainted the air. The empty walkways reflected the weak moonlight. The other students were probably in their rooms, studying and preparing for tomorrow. “We can get in a couple hours of travel tonight,” Zitora said. “Go get a change of clothes and pack a few essential supplies. We’ll buy food on the road. I’ll meet you in the barn. You have a horse, right?” “Yes, but I just started my lessons.” Another worry. “Which horse is yours?” “A painted mare named Quartz.” “The Sandseed bred horse? How did you get so lucky?” “Yelena was visiting the Keep when the new herd of horses arrived. She told the Stable Master to save Quartz for me.” Zitora laughed. “And Yelena is the only person the Stable Master listens to when it comes to horses. There are hidden perks when you save someone’s life.” “But I didn’t—” She waved my protest away with her nimble fingers. It had been thoughtful of Yelena to choose a horse for me, but once the story about her involvement flew through the campus population like sand grains in the wind, I lost the few acquaintances I had to jealousy. Again. Liaison Yelena was the true hero of Sitia and Ixia. If she talked to a student, the gossips mulled over the implications for weeks. “Don’t worry about not being an expert with a horse. Quartz will follow Sudi. All you need to do is stay in the saddle.” She moved to leave, then stopped. “Opal, go visit the armory before you come to the barn.” “Why?” “It’s time to trade in your practice sais for real ones.” “Thirteen inches or fifteen inches?” Captain Marrok, the Keep’s new Weapons Master asked with impatience, after I’d grabbed my supplies and cleaned up. When I didn’t respond, he yanked my right arm out and measured my forearm from wrist to elbow. “Thirteen inches should work.” He rummaged around the armory. Swords hung on the walls and spears glinted from racks. Arrows lined up like soldiers, and the odor of metallic sweat and leather filled the air. I rubbed my forearm, massaging the thick muscles and tracing my burn scars with a finger. One benefit of working with glass, strong arms, but they limited my flexibility when fighting. By the end of my first year, the Weapons Master had decided that, even though I could heft and move a staff of wood like a pontil iron, I was too slow. He made the same assessment of me with a sword and a spear. I found the sais by accident when I helped clean up after a practice session. They resembled strange short swords, but instead of a flat blade, the weapon’s main shaft was thick—about half an inch wide near the hilt and a quarter of an inch at the tip—and rounded yet with eight flat sides. Octagonal, the Weapons Master had called it. Only the tip of the shaft was sharp. He was thrilled I had discovered them, claiming they were the perfect weapon for me as they needed arm strength and hand dexterity. “Here, try these. If they’re too heavy, I’ll find you a lighter pair.” The Weapons Master handed me two sais, one for each hand. The silver metal shone as if recently polished. The U-shaped guard pointed toward the tip of the weapon so the sais resembled a three-pronged pitchfork with a very long center tine. I executed a few blocks and strikes to get the feel of the weapons. “These are heavier than the practice ones,” I said. “Too heavy? I started to add weight to your practice pair, but the Masters are in a rush. That’s always the way.” He tsked. “They’re fine.” “Practice as often as you can. You might want to cut bigger slits in your cloak so you can grab them quicker.” He hurried over to a large chest in the corner of the armory. Lifting the lid, he sorted through the contents and removed a belt with two short scabbards. “Wear this when you carry them. Horses don’t like to be poked with the pointy ends. Not good for your legs, neither.” I thanked him and ran toward the stables. The weight of the weapons hanging from my waist seemed heavier. Would I need to use them? Could I defend myself? This whole mission felt as if I’d been wrenched from a kiln before I could reach the perfect temperature. In the stables, Zitora helped the Stable Master saddle Quartz. The Stable Master muttered and fussed to no one in particular as he yanked straps and adjusted the reins. In the weak lantern light, Quartz’s reddish-brown areas appeared black and the white parts looked gray. She nickered at me in greeting and I stroked her nose. Her face was brown except for a white patch between her eyes. Already saddled, Sudi, Zitora’s roan-colored mare shuffled with impatience. When the Stable Master handed me Quartz’s reins, he said, “You’re going to be sore tomorrow and in outright pain by the next day. Stop often to stretch your muscles and rest your back.” “There won’t be time,” Zitora said as she mounted Sudi. “Why am I not surprised? Dashing off before she’s properly trained is becoming standard procedure around here.” The Stable Master shook his head and ranted under his breath. He ambled past the horse stalls, checking water buckets. “Do you have a Barbasco yam?” Zitora asked. “That’ll help with the pain.” “I don’t need it. How bad can it be?” It was bad. And not just regular bad. After three days, the pain was back-wrenching, legs-burning, mind-numbing bad. Zitora set a killer pace. We only stopped for food, to rest and care for the horses, and to sleep a few hours. Not long enough to wring out the exhaustion soaked into my bones. Memories of a similar trip threatened my sleep and nagged at me. The night Master Jewelrose had startled me from a deep slumber and hustled me onto her horse before I knew what was happening. I’d clung to her as we bolted for the Citadel. All I had known during that frantic five-day trip, was my sister needed me. Enough knowledge to ignore the pain. I focused on the Stormdancers’ troubles to distract myself. We had left the Citadel through the south gate, headed southwest for a day to reach the border of the Stormdance lands, then turned west. Zitora hoped to arrive at the coast in another three days. At various times throughout the trip, my worries over the mission had flared, and doubts jabbed my thoughts. If magic was involved, I wouldn’t be able to solve the problem and precious time would be wasted. On the night of our fourth day, we stopped at a market in Thunder Valley. Zitora bought a Barbasco yam for me and managed to hand it over without any gloating. Impressive. My brother would have done an “I told you so” dance for weeks. The market buzzed with activity. Vendors sold the usual fruits, vegetables and meats, but a strange shrub was heaped on a couple of tables. About three feet tall, the plant’s leaves were hairy and separated into leaflets. “That’s indigo,” Zitora said when I asked. “It’s used to make ink, one of the Stormdance industries. They also make metal goods like those sais you carry.” And they harvested storms. Busy clan. I chewed on the yam as we hurried through our shopping. I would have enjoyed lingering over the glasswares, but suppressed my disappointment. No sense complaining when exhaustion lined Zitora’s heart-shaped face, reminding me this wasn’t a pleasure trip. Perhaps we could stop on the way home. After we secured our fresh supplies to the saddles, we mounted. I braced for the now-familiar jolt of protest from my abused muscles, but was surprised when none came. The yam worked fast. Amusement lit her pale yellow eyes. “Thanks for the yam, Zit … er … Master Cowan.” Her humor faded and I berated myself for my slip of the tongue. She had been adamant about the students calling her Master Cowan. We all knew her frustration caused by everyone’s casual attitude toward her. But she was so sweet. When she noticed me and remembered details about my life, I wanted to confide in her and become her best friend. She sighed. “Call me Zitora. I shouldn’t expect respect if I haven’t earned it.” “That’s not it.” “What do you mean?” Feeling as though I’d melted more glass than I could handle, I cast about for the right words. “You’ll always be Zitora to the students. You’re not … intimidating enough. You don’t have the stern demeanor of Master Jewelrose or the walking textbook wisdom of Master Bloodgood. You can require us to call you Master, but we don’t feel the title in our hearts.” Her annoyance deepened toward anger, so I hurried on. “But you’re … approachable. You’re someone to confide in, to go to when in trouble. I think if all the Masters were unapproachable, the campus environment would be stilted. Uncomfortable.” When she didn’t say anything, I added, “But that’s my impression. I could be wrong.” I needed to learn to keep my mouth shut. The One-Trick Wonder telling a Master Magician about how she was perceived was as ill-advised as the Masters sending me to the Stormdance Clan to fix their orbs. Without a word, Zitora spurred Sudi into a gallop. See? She was too nice to chastise me. Master Jewelrose would have sent me to scrub the kitchen floors for a week. But, when we finally stopped to sleep in the early-morning hours, and as I tried to get comfortable on the hard shale covering the ground, I thought her choice of a stop-over site could be in retaliation for my comment. Zitora remained by our small fire, but noticed me squirming in my blankets. “It’s all like this.” She gestured to the ground. “From here on out.” “Like what?” “Shale. Sheets and sheets of it. A few smooth places, others riddled with grooves or broken into gravel. All you’ll see under your feet is an ugly gray until we reach the coast. It’s called The Flats. No trees. A few bushes. Then… Well, The Cliffs before the sea are spectacular. Carved by wind and water, the piles of shale have been sculpted into beautiful shapes and bridges.” She returned to staring at the fire. “Go to sleep, Opal. You need the rest.” I was unable to keep my eyes open and too tired to question if she used magic on me. For once, my overactive imagination and past memories didn’t invade my dreams. My sleep remained blissful until a sharp point pricked my throat, waking me. Alarmed, I stared at a sword’s blade hovering mere inches from my chin. My gaze followed the long sharp weapon to its owner. A person wearing a gray mask loomed over me. 3 “GET UP SLOWLY,” the man ordered. “No sudden moves. And keep your hands where I can see them.” Hard to argue with an armed bandit. I sat and pushed my blankets off. The man stepped back as I stood. The tip of his sword dropped toward the ground, easing the iron vise of panic clamped around my heart. I released a shaky breath. His shirt and pants were speckled with a variety of grays, black and white. His hood and mask matched the fabric of his clothes. Brilliant blue eyes stared back at me. A laugh drew my attention to the right. Zitora was before three people who also wore gray camouflage. They pointed their swords at her. Interesting, she didn’t look so sweet now. Red splotches spread on her cheeks. Anger or fear, I couldn’t tell. “This is it?” the man standing closest to Zitora asked in amazement. “The Council sends two students to help the Stormdance Clan? This is too good to be true!” He cackled. “What are you … seniors? No. Don’t tell me … you’re a novice.” He pointed his blade at me. “And you’re a senior.” The blade swung back to Zitora. I had slept in my cloak and the weight of my sais underneath the garment pulled at my waist. She had insisted I stay armed at all times. Her sword rested on the ground nearby. I could reach through the slits in my cloak and draw my weapons. I sought a signal from Zitora. Her pointed expression warned me to wait. “What do you want?” Zitora asked. “To stop you from helping the Stormdancers, but now I’m thinking of letting you go. You’ll probably do more harm than good.” The leader cackled again. His laugh grated on my nerves as if he gargled broken glass. The man who woke me grabbed my hand. He showed my burn scars to the leader. “She is a glassmaker. We must stick to the plan.” Blue Eyes released my arm. “Aww. I can’t kill two little girls,” the leader said. The word kill caused a hot flush of fear to race through me. “This one’s a magician,” a woman said, gesturing at Zitora. “Is she too strong for you?” the leader mocked. The woman stiffened. “We have her firmly in our control.” She glanced at the person next to her. Through the haze of fear in my mind, I realized Zitora hadn’t moved more than her mouth since I woke. “And here we were all ready for a big fight,” the leader said. “Brought the magicians, the muscle, the swordsman, expecting guards and Keep-trained magicians. Overkill for sure!” He laughed at his own joke. Sweat rolled down my back at hearing kill again. “Why do you want to stop us from helping the Stormdancers?” Zitora asked. Anger reddened the leader’s ears. “We want them to—” “Shut up,” Blue Eyes said. “The less said, the better. Finish the mission before we are discovered.” Perhaps the cackler wasn’t the leader. An intelligent intensity radiated from Blue Eyes. “We can take them along,” suggested the woman. “Ransom them.” “No,” I said with force. My vehement outburst surprised me as much as our attackers. I would rather die than be a kidnap victim again. “Last chance to tell us why you’re here,” Zitora said. Authority laced her tone. Snickers answered her. Only Blue Eyes considered her words. His grip tightened on his sword. “The benefit of appearing so young is I’m constantly underestimated.” Zitora raised her arms, warning me she would use her magic. Breathing became difficult and fear stabbed my heart. Action would soon be needed. Could I fight or would I be too terrified to move? This time the laughter didn’t sound. The magician gestured with alarm. “Now,” Zitora ordered. I yanked my sais from their holders as Blue Eyes lunged. With no time to think, I stepped in front of Zitora to protect her, blocking his sword. The ring of metal sounded as the strike vibrated through my arm. He froze in place. The others rushed us, but when they reached Blue Eyes’ side, they were immobilized, as well, coming no closer to us. “That was fun.” Strain vibrated in Zitora’s words as sweat beaded on her forehead. “What? It’s over?” My body pumped with the need for action. I glanced between her and our attackers. A tight grin flashed. “Perhaps being approachable isn’t so bad.” “Do you have them all?” I asked. “Yep, but now what?” She considered. “I can’t hold them long.” To take control of four people’s bodies required a great deal of skill and power. Zitora trembled with the effort. Her strength impressed me. I knew it shouldn’t. She was Second Magician, after all. And Zitora’s best ability was being able to wrap magic around a person, keeping them immobile. Yet seeing her in action enlightened me. “Opal … fetch the darts.” She huffed. “And vial … from my saddlebags.” I rushed to comply and soon returned with four darts and a small bottle. “Dip them … do you know?” “It’s Curare.” The words croaked out. I swallowed what felt like a lump of sand. Curare was a powerful drug. It paralyzed the muscles in a person’s body for a full day and blocked the ability to use magic. I shuddered, remembering when I had been forced to prick Yelena with the drug. My guilt flared, even though Yelena never blamed me, and she even admired the trick my kidnapper had used. I wish I could say the same for my Keep colleagues. You can’t let the past ruin your future, I chanted over in my mind. Yelena’s words made perfect sense, yet I couldn’t force my heart to believe them. She gestured to the ambushers. I understood and treated each dart with the drug then jabbed each attacker in the arm. After waiting ten seconds, Zitora relaxed. She lowered her arms and the four bandits slumped to the ground. Appearing as if her bones had melted, she dropped down to a sitting position. Her energy gone. I retrieved her water flask and a few baka leaves, handing them to her. “Thanks.” She chewed for a while, lost in thought. The leaves revived her somewhat, but she remained sitting. Minutes passed. I fidgeted and wondered if I should put my weapons away. Instead, I checked the horses and fed them. My hands trembled and I blamed the heavy feed bags for the shaking. Quartz rubbed her face on my arm in a comforting gesture. Eventually Zitora joined me. She hunched over and moved as if afraid of falling. “We should go.” “What about them?” I asked. She smiled. “And here they were, all prepared for a fight. No time to properly interrogate them.” She rummaged in her saddlebags, uncovered the glass unicorn I had made for her and rested it in the palm of her hand. The core glowed with an inner fire as it sang to me. The vibrations from its tune hummed deep within my soul. It brightened and quieted when Zitora stared at the unicorn, communicating with another magician. What did Master Bloodgood call them? Glass messengers? Interesting. Finally she said, “Irys will contact the magician stationed in Thunder Valley. He’ll inform the Stormdance’s soldiers. They’ll send a cleanup crew. Irys wasn’t happy about the attack. She plans to personally interrogate them when they’re in custody.” Considering they were going to kill us, they deserved to be interviewed by Master Jewelrose. The morning’s events filtered through my mind and snagged on one question. “Zitora, why did you let them ambush us? You had to know they were coming. Right?” A hint of mischievousness sparked in her tired eyes. “I knew. I wanted to see what they were after. My mind reading skills are limited. I knew they intended to accost us, but not why. And I can’t hold them physically and examine them mentally. That’s beyond my powers. Irys could do both, but probably not to all four.” She considered. “A calculated risk, but it worked.” “No thanks to me,” I murmured. “Did another block that sword thrust? Funny, I didn’t see him. Guess I was too busy using magic to notice.” “Sarcasm doesn’t become you. You’re ruining my image of you as the sweet Master.” “Good. Now go take the masks off and examine our attackers’ faces.” “Why?” “In case they escape. You’ll be able to identify them.” “They could escape?” An alarming thought. “Nothing’s impossible, Opal. You should know that by now.” True. I thought about how Yelena had managed to escape after being paralyzed with Curare, a seemingly impossible situation. So why hadn’t I been able to escape the same woman? Twelve days she held me, but I wasn’t Yelena. Not as smart or as brave. By the end of my ordeal, I had been willing to do anything for Alea. Even pricking Yelena with Curare. Although I wondered, if faced with the same situation now, would I react the same? Did being older and wiser make me braver? Painful memories threatened to overwhelm me. I bit my lip and focused on the task at hand, identifying our attackers. I pulled their masks off one by one revealing three men and one woman. I studied their features, committing them to memory, sculpting their profiles in my mind. I wondered if I could fashion glass statues to resemble people instead of animals. An interesting and appealing prospect that would have to wait until we returned home. Blue Eyes stared at me with cold calculation. Long strands of black hair had sprung from his single braid. I stayed out of reach even though I knew he couldn’t move. The drug only allowed a person to breathe, swallow and hear. Clean shaven. No wrinkles lined his ginger-colored skin. I guessed he was in his early twenties. My attention kept returning to his diamond-shaped eyes fringed with thick lashes. I forced myself to search for distinctive features. He had a strong nose and an inch-long scar on his throat below his left ear. When I returned to Zitora and the horses, my back stung as if Blue Eyes had the power to burn a hole right through my cloak and skin. “Should we wait for the guards?” I asked Zitora when she mounted Sudi. “No time. Don’t worry, they’re not going anywhere.” “What about predators?” A strange prickle crawled along my spine. It felt as if Blue Eyes’ gaze had transformed into a spider clinging to the skin on my back, and that no matter how far I traveled, I wouldn’t be able to lose the spider. “If I loop a protective net around them, will you feel better?” “Yes.” She guided her horse closer to the prone forms. Her brow creased and I guessed she pulled a thread of magic from the power source blanketing the world. Only magicians could tap into this power. When I worked with molten glass, I could draw magic from the source, but couldn’t replicate the action without being in “glass mode.” I ignored the spike of envy. Zitora looped a protective strand around the paralyzed people and then connected it back to the power source so it remained in place. Or, at least, that was what she told me she had done. My awareness of magic was only through the glass. I couldn’t see or touch or smell it. The protection would guide an animal past the site without incident, but a human would break the net. “What happens if one of the Stormdance Clan members stumbles on them? Or worse, if one of their colleagues is waiting for us to leave to help them?” I asked. “No one lives on The Flats. And I can’t sense anyone nearby. What is really worrying you?” I couldn’t pinpoint the reason for my unease. “Perhaps you’re still upset over the attack.” “Perhaps.” But as we rode away, the spider of doubt burrowed deep under my skin. If I chased my thoughts to the depths of my memories, I might match the anxious feeling to the incident over four years ago when I helped Yelena capture those malevolent souls. Match it to the fact that I heard their voices calling to me in my dreams from time to time. Which is why I wouldn’t contemplate those feelings—pure imagination on my part. I hoped. 4 I DISMISSED THE whole crazy notion of hearing the voices of the dead and concentrated on keeping up with Zitora. Galloping over the hard shale ground increased the jolting through my body. I clung to Quartz’s mane to keep from bouncing off her saddle. By the time we reached the coast the next morning, I couldn’t get off Quartz fast enough. We stopped where The Flats transformed into The Cliffs—a sheer drop-off to the sand below. The sea sparkled as if a million diamonds floated on the surface. It spread before me in all its glorious blue-green waters. White foam capped the waves and fingers of rocks pointed to the horizon. The moist breeze fanned me, smelling of salt. Creeping to the edge, I glanced down and sank to my knees. I had never been this high before. Five times the height of the Master Magician’s tower; I guessed the distance spanned a hundred and fifty feet. Zitora joined me. “Where are the Stormdancers?” I asked. No life stirred on The Flats and only seabirds circled below. “I don’t see any signs of them.” “Farther south. This is the only smooth part of The Cliffs.” She pointed to the left. “And it’s where the trail starts.” A narrow ledge of shale jutted from the edge of The Cliffs. A pregnant mare wouldn’t fit on it. I eyed Quartz’s middle. My leg would probably dangle over nothing. “You’re not afraid of heights are you?” Zitora asked. “I guess I’m about to find out.” “We’ll walk the horses down.” “Good idea.” “Just follow me and keep your eyes on Sudi.” Zitora squeezed my shoulder. During the first hour of our descent, I wasn’t sure if I led Quartz down or if she guided me. My legs tended to freeze in place whenever I contemplated the thin ribbon of ground under my feet, and my breath came in short huffs whenever I caught sight of the rocks gleaming below. The pungent scent of salt and fish dominated my senses. And the constant shushing of the waves filled my ears. Eventually, the soothing rise and fall of the water calmed my breathing, but the occasional harsh cry of a seagull would jolt a gasp from me. Once we descended into the twisting network of the wind-sculpted cliffs, my fears disappeared. The Stormdance Clan had carved the trail through ripples of shale. Stunning wings of rock reached out to the sea and between these wings were caves and grooves. Lower down on the cliff, the water added its own artistic touch, carving deep caverns and wearing away enough rock to leave bridges and chimneys behind. According to Zitora, the Stormdancers lived in the caves closer to the sand. The higher ones were all empty. The lower ones had wood and cloth screens pulled across the entrances. Probably for privacy. When we finally arrived at the base of The Cliffs, the sun shone directly overhead—midafternoon. In a large cavern, we found a small group sitting around a fire. Before going inside, I glanced up. This time, the sheer beauty and height of The Cliffs pressed down on me. “Opal, give Quartz’s reins to Tal, he’ll take care of her,” Zitora said. A young man with skin the color of coal dust flashed me a shy smile. Tal led both horses along the sand. “Where are they going?” I asked. Another man had joined us. Around forty years old, he appeared to be about twenty years older than Tal. “We have temporary stables set up past the outcropping.” He pointed. The sun had tanned his skin to a warm brown and his short black hair was peppered with flecks of gold. “If a storm comes, we can move them into the higher caves for protection.” He smiled, showing the reason for the wrinkles. “I should go help unsaddle—” “Don’t worry. Tal will take care of them. We don’t get many horses here, but Tal knows what to do. Come inside, we have much to discuss.” I followed Zitora and the man. With Tal gone, only four others waited by the fire. The man introduced us to them. Nodin and Varun were brothers and, along with their sister, Indra, the three of them made the special glass orbs. The fourth, Kade, was a Stormdancer. By their solemn and dire expressions, they didn’t appear happy to see us. The man—Raiden—was the camp manager. “I sent the others back to the village,” Raiden said. “No sense having everyone here if we can’t dance. I hope you can help us out, Opal.” “I don’t see how,” Kade said. He threw a stick into the fire and stood. “She’s younger than Tal.” He stalked out. The silence thickened until Raiden sighed. “Bad times, but we’ve been through worse. I sent for an expert and here you are. I trust the Council and Master Cowan.” His round face and kind brown eyes radiated hope. I knew I was supposed to respond with a comment about being the right person for the job, but I tended to agree with Kade. At least Raiden used Zitora’s title. “Tell us what’s been happening,” Zitora said. Raiden explained about the orbs shattering. “… when the energy is captured inside, the Stormdancer seals the orb with a rubber stopper and we transport the orb to one of our factories. But with these new orbs, as soon as they are sealed the energy bursts through them, sending shards of glass out with killer speed. We lost two Stormdancers.” The three glassblowers seemed to sink down into themselves. Their guilt and pain piercing them as lethally as the glass debris had penetrated the Stormdancers. “What is different with these orbs?” Zitora asked. “Nothing!” Roused from his misery, Nodin jumped to his feet. “We’ve been following Father’s methods exactly. Same recipe. Same temperature. Same equipment.” “How do you make them?” she asked. Nodin began a lecture on glassmaking. I stopped him after a few sentences. “Better to show me exactly what your father did to make the orbs,” I said. They led me outside and up the trail. “We make all the orbs before the two stormy seasons,” Nodin explained. Out in the sunlight, the tight curls of his short black hair shone. The three siblings all had the same color of hair. Indra had pulled her shoulder-length curls into a ponytail and Varun had twisted his longer hair into rows of braids tight against his head. “We’ll have to relight the fire,” Varun said. “You let it go out?” I asked in amazement. Getting the kiln heated to the proper temperature could take days. “We finished the orbs for the cooling season storms,” Indra snapped. “We were in the process of shutting it down until next year.” “Is there another kiln nearby?” I asked. Varun barked out a short laugh. “No. Nothing is nearby. We bring all our supplies when we arrive for the storm season.” “We’re wasting time.” Indra glanced out to sea. Her brothers copied her. They seemed to be scenting the wind, judging the air. “Not much time left before the big storms hit. Our expert wants to see how we make the orbs. Let’s get to work.” The kiln was housed in a large cave tucked behind a shale wall, protected from the wind and high water. A chimney had been drilled through the ceiling to vent the heat and smoke. The glassmakers moved as one, reminding me of my family. While the brothers shoveled white coal, Indra gathered driftwood from a stack. Wood was easier to light than coal, but once a hot fire burned, more coal would be added. Indra’s little jab at me hurt, but I didn’t want to stand there and do nothing. “Can I help?” I asked her. I translated her grunt for assent. I collected wood. When we had a pile, the brothers made a lattice of branches. Nodin pulled out flint. Interesting how none of the three could light the fire with magic. I couldn’t, either, but I had assumed a Stormdancer could. I glanced around. Kade wasn’t in sight. Zitora, though, hovered nearby with Raiden. She halted Nodin’s efforts. With the smallest of frowns, she lit the branches. When she looked away, the fire died down to a respectable burn. “Can you keep the fire hot?” I asked her. “How long?” “Long enough for the coals to ignite?” She nodded and once again the flames intensified. A purse of appreciation settled on Nodin’s lips. “One benefit to having a Master Magician around.” “And she’s good in a fight, too.” I winked at her. “Time to add the sand,” Indra said. The sand, soda ash and lime had been premixed and loaded onto a wheeled cart which had been parked in the back of the cave. Indra held a large metal bowl and a trowel. She paused before filling it. “How much?” she asked. “Enough for two orbs,” I said. She scooped sand. I grabbed a fistful of the mixture and carried it into the sunlight. Once there, I let the grains fall through my fingers, inspecting them as they fell. Yellow and brown grains, large and coarse were mixed with small white grains. A number of red-tinted particles and a few black specks peppered the mix. “Our family’s secret recipe,” Varun said as he joined me on the ledge. I considered. “Forty percent local sand, forty percent from the Krystal Clan’s sand quarry, fifteen percent from the Bloodgood Clan’s red beach and five percent lava flakes.” He opened his mouth in astonishment. Closed it. Then stuttered, “That’s … that’s … There’s no way … Who told you?” Suspicion tainted his voice. “The mixture.” He didn’t brighten with understanding. I asked him, “What other glasswares do you manufacture?” “None. Our sole job is to make the orbs and protect the recipe. Only my family and the lead Stormdancer know the percentages.” He clutched my arm. “You’re the first to figure it out. You can’t tell anyone.” “Don’t worry.” I gently pried his hands off. “I won’t. I know how important it is. Growing up in a glass factory, my family made many different types of glasswares from drinking glasses to fancy bowls and custom vases. My father has hundreds of sand recipes for various colored glass, as well as glass with assorted qualities and clarities. Father delights in bringing home a new mix and making us guess the composition.” I smiled at the memory. Most fathers brought presents home for their children. Mine brought sand. My smile grew wider as I realized how excited my sisters and I had been when Father’s wagon was spotted in town, returning with a new batch of sand. I brushed the sand from my fingers. Varun gazed at me with frank curiosity. But before he could voice his question, Nodin joined us. “The coals are heating. We should have melt by dawn.” Zitora’s magic had accelerated the process by a full day. “Until then, let me show you the orbs we’ve made,” Nodin said. I followed him along the cliff trail to a small cave high above the beach. We crouched down to step inside. “Another protected cave. The wind doesn’t blow in here and the water never reaches this high.” I peered over the edge. “How high does the water get?” Nodin grinned. “Depends on the storm. The stronger the wind, the higher the water.” He shuffled to the back of the cave and returned with a glass orb. He handed it to me. The sphere weighed as much as a healthy newborn baby. The orb had a small lip and opening, making the sphere resemble a fat coin purse. “When the rubber stopper is inserted, it seals the energy inside,” Nodin explained. “How do you release the energy without hurting anybody?” He picked up a stopper. “There is a hole that goes about halfway through. See?” He poked a finger up to his knuckle in the one end. “A glass tube is inserted in this end and, when in place, a small hole is made that goes all the way through the rubber. The energy flows through the tube and into the machinery.” I brought the orb closer to the sunlight and stroked the glass with my fingers. Smooth and translucent, the orb had a purple iridescent film on the outside as if it had been dipped in soap. As wide as the length of my forearm, it had no seams; the glass was blown into this shape. No bubbles or other flaws marked its surface. It sat inert in my hands. No glow. No singing. No magic. “Why glass?” I asked Nodin. “Why not metal or silver to contain the storm’s energy?” “Only glass will work. I don’t know why.” Sadness blanketed his face. “Now even the glass won’t work.” “Do you have one of the old orbs?” Nodin stared at me as if deciding what he should tell me. Finally he said, “Kade keeps one in his sleeping quarters.” He scooted closer to the edge and hung his legs over. “It’s one of the smaller orbs. And it’s … full.” He swung his feet and looked down at the beach. “So if the orb breaks …” “Exactly.” Nodin spread his hands wide. “It would kill anyone standing or sleeping within ten feet.” “Why keep it?” “Don’t know. It’s a suicide waiting to happen.” He gestured to the sea. A single figure stood at the end of a rocky outcrop. “Or it could be a strong desire for privacy.” Nodin laughed. “It does guarantee him his own cave.” We sat for a while in silence. Each contemplating our own thoughts. “I’ll need to examine Kade’s orb,” I said. “You’ll have to ask him.” “Me? I thought …” His brown eyes sparked with glee. “Yes, you. I’m beginning to like you, Opal. But not that much.” He grabbed the sphere and returned it to the back of the cave. “If you want to see Kade’s orb before dark, you better hurry. Once the sun dips below the sea, it turns black fast.” I followed Nodin down to the beach. The sun hovered near the edge of the horizon, casting shadows along the water’s rippled surface. “Good luck.” Nodin waved. I wondered if Zitora should be the person to ask Kade about his orb. The Stormdancer didn’t have a lot of confidence in me. I tended to agree with him, but I knew I would try to discover the problem. It was too important and I wouldn’t feel right unless I made the effort. The wind whipped hair into my eyes when I stepped out onto the black rocks. I pulled the leather tie from my messy ponytail and tried to recapture all the strands into a neater knot. Funny how I hadn’t noticed the wind on the beach. Calling to Kade had proven futile. My shouts drowned by the sea’s song. I hadn’t noticed how uneven and jagged the rocks were, either. Waves crashed into them, sending spray high into the air. Water soon coated my skin and soaked my clothes. The rocks became slicker with each wave. I was glad I wore my brown boots, even though they filled with water; their thick soles helped me navigate the slippery and rutted outcrop. At one point I climbed over a few sharp boulders, and at another I leaped over a gap. The tight knocking of my heart warned my body to turn around and go back to the beach, but I was determined. Stupid? No. Determined. Until I reached a space too big to cross. Too big for me. Kade was three rocks farther out. Each separated by a large opening. Had he swam or jumped? It didn’t matter. All that mattered was he heard my shout. He spun around. And I wished I had waited on the beach. With an angry scowl, Kade moved. I would have marveled at his speed and grace as he flew over the gaps, except he aimed toward me. An errant wave knocked into me and I grabbed a rough edge to keep from falling. Pain laced my palm and blood welled. Kade stopped before spanning the space between our rocks. His mouth moved, but the wind snatched half of his words. “ …idiot … dangerous … go back!” I understood his intent and turned to retrace my steps. The waves grew in size and frequency. They hunted me, attacking when I was vulnerable. “Opal,” shouted Kade. I looked back in time to see a giant blue-green wall of water rushing toward me. The roar of the wind and sea ceased the moment the monster wave engulfed me. For one heartbeat, my world filled with gurgling sounds and foamy green light. Then the force of the crashing water slammed me into an unyielding object. The sea grabbed my limp body and tossed it about. Confusion dulled the pain until my forehead smacked into a jagged rock. My vision clouded with blood and saltwater. Kade and the outcrop grew smaller as the sea sucked me into her liquid embrace. 5 I TRIED TO SWIM. But each wave pushed me under and my waterlogged pants and boots dragged me down. I managed a few panicked gulps of air before the saltwater closed my throat. A sense of inevitability pervaded my body and I relaxed. The underwater half-light was a beautiful canvas for my memories. My sister Tula arrived to welcome me into the sky. I was surrounded by warmth and love. She frowned at me. “Silly girl. Take a breath. You’re surrounded by air.” I opened my mouth to argue and coughed out a lungful of water. My stomach heaved with the effort to expel the salty liquid. Once I regained my composure, I froze in amazement. I sat in the middle of a bubble of air. The blue-green walls appeared as solid as glass, but moved like water. Eventually my bubble floated to the surface of the sea. I bobbed in the waves, staying dry as land drew closer. Kade still stood on the rocks, but his eyes were closed and he held his arms straight out to the sides. Once I reached the shallow water, my bubble popped. I splashed back into the cold sea. The waves pushed as I crawled from the water and collapsed onto the sand. Soon voices wormed through my water-filled ears. A crowd had gathered. My sodden state was met with a mixture of emotions. Zitora was concerned and fluttered around me like a mother. The glassmakers smirked and tried to conceal their laughter. Raiden tsked and muttered under his breath about stupidity. Tal helped me to my feet and stayed beside me. “What made you go out there?” Zitora asked. “I wanted to talk to Kade. Nodin said I should go before dark.” A burst of chuckles escaped from the siblings. Raiden scowled at them. “Opal, you shouldn’t have listened to him. He was fooling with you.” “I didn’t know it would be so slick.” I shivered. The weak sun floated on the sea, painting a bright ribbon of red light along the waterline. “You three stop laughing.” He scolded the glassmakers. “If Kade hadn’t seen her, she would have drowned. Then no one would want to help us!” They sobered in an instant. “Sorry,” Nodin muttered before they shuffled away to check on the kiln. “Now you know to avoid climbing on the rocks.” Zitora smoothed my hair from my face and wiped sand off my cheek. “You’re bleeding.” Her finger traced a line of fire across my forehead. She repeated the gesture and the pain disappeared. “You’ll have a slight scar, but it could have been worse. You need to wash and change into dry clothes. There’s a freshwater pond behind the stables. Let me know if you have any other injuries.” Her eyes promised to question me further. Probably when we were alone. She left with Raiden to retrieve our saddlebags. Tal lingered. He kicked the sand. He peered past my shoulder then back to me. “Before you talk to Kade about what was so important, make sure you thank him first.” I glanced behind me. Kade reached the beach with a light hop. He walked toward us. “Thank him?” “For saving your life.” “Ahh … My bubble of air.” “A Stormdancer power.” Bitterness warped Tal’s words. He turned and hurried away. I wanted to chase after Tal, especially when Kade drew closer, but I waited for him. Cold fingers of air stroked my wet body, raising goose bumps on my skin. His wet tunic and pants clung to his muscular frame, but at least his angry scowl had turned into tired annoyance. I braced for his lecture. Instead he gave me a wry smile. “Don’t know why I was mad,” he said. “I’ve fished out so many clan members I’ve lost count. And I’m sure you weren’t warned to stay off the rocks. Not that it would change anything. No matter how many times you warn a person, he still has to climb out there just to see for himself.” He sighed and gazed out to the horizon. The sea had turned a slate gray. “At least I won’t have to fish you out tomorrow. I can save my energy for the storm.” “A storm’s coming?” “Yep. Nasty one, too. That’s why the waves are so greedy.” He walked by, but I touched his arm. He jerked away as if stung. “Thank you for fishing me out.” He nodded and continued past. “There was a reason I wanted to talk to you,” I said to his back. He paused. “I want to examine your orb.” His shoulders stiffened. “Why?” “To compare it to the new orbs.” Kade made no reply as he strode away. The simple state of being warm and dry felt wonderful. I wore tan-colored linen pants and a light orange tunic made of the same material. The nicest part of being a student at the Keep was being able to wear what we wanted on a daily basis. Formal occasions, though, either called for our official robes, or fancy dress. In the main living cave, my brown leather boots steamed beside the campfire. I lounged as close to the heat as possible in a chair made of wood and canvas. The glassmakers, Tal, Raiden and Zitora ringed the fire, talking in low voices which echoed off the shale walls. Fish soup bubbled over the flames and my stomach growled loud enough for Zitora to pause and smile at me. As we ate the tangy soup, Nodin and Indra discussed the kiln watch schedule and Zitora and Raiden talked about recent Council decisions. Each clan elected a member to represent them on the Sitian Council, which met at the Citadel. With the three Master Magicians, the Council consisted of fourteen members who decided on laws and policies for Sitia. My father loved dissecting the Council’s decisions, but I never had much interest. Even now when I could have learned more about the Stormdance Clan’s internal policies, my mind wandered. Where was Kade? Didn’t he need to eat? I eventually dozed in my chair. “Opal.” Zitora woke me with a nudge. “Time for bed. Do you want to sleep down here near the fire or go to another cave?” Confused, I glanced at Raiden. “Some prefer their privacy. There are many places to sleep and a few have fire rings or coal stoves. Most of us just sleep here.” I was used to sharing a room. First with my sisters, and then at the Keep. “Here’s fine. This way you can wake me when it’s my turn to watch the kiln’s fire.” “You’re not on the schedule,” Nodin joked. “I know. The three of you can shorten your shifts to two hours and I’ll take the last shift.” Varun drew breath, but I said, “Don’t argue with the expert.” “I assume you mean an expert at glass and not at swimming?” Tal teased. I remembered Kade’s comments on the beach. “So, your superior attitude comes from having never been fished out?” Indra laughed and flicked her long ponytail. “He’s been fished out countless times.” Tal shot to his feet and scowled down at her. “Now he’s going to run outside and pout,” Indra said. “You have to learn how to laugh at yourself, Tal.” “I’m going to sleep in the stables. The horses smell better than you.” Tal stalked from the cave. Indra sighed. “I’m surrounded by boys,” she grumped to herself. “I’m glad I have my own cave. I enjoy my privacy after dealing with these children all day. I’m going to bed.” She made a dramatic exit. We folded the chairs and stacked them against the back wall. Raiden handed me a cot and helped to set it up. “We do have a few comforts,” he said. “No sense sleeping on the cold hard ground.” Within seconds of getting comfortable, I fell asleep. The wind whistled in my dreams as I ran from the waves. The sand sucked at my feet and hindered my movements before melting under me. I slogged through thick molten glass as a huge wave grew behind me. Riding on top of the wave was Blue Eyes. He beckoned to me. His voice echoed in my chest. “Finish the job.” I woke with a start. Nodin shook my shoulder. White ash clung to the ringlets in his hair. “Must have been some nightmare,” he said. I shuddered. “You have no idea.” A haunted expression gripped him. “I know all about nightmares.” “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—” “I know.” He straightened. “It’s your shift.” Nodin stole my cot as soon as I vacated it. He was probably asleep by the time I left the cave. The cold drove out the last vestiges of sleep from my mind. I glanced at the sky. No stars. No moon. A heavy presence pushed down from above, adding to the moisture in the air. Probably clouds filled with rain, although I couldn’t smell anything besides the salty air. The sea moved like a living being. Its chest rose and fell; waves crashed and drew back as it breathed, the rough surf a testament to its displeasure. Protected by the wind, the kiln’s fire burned hot. I poked the sand mixture inside with a rod. It needed a few more hours to melt into the required consistency. I added a handful of coals to the fire. Now what? I hiked down to the beach and checked on the horses. Quartz nickered in greeting. The small stables had been constructed from bamboo stalks lashed together. The three stalls smelled clean and the walls protected the horses from the wind. Tal snored in an empty bay. His long arms hung off the edge of his cot. I returned to the kiln’s cave. The fire warmed me and its familiar roar masked the alien sounds from the sea. I squirmed into a comfortable position at the entrance and rested my back against the wall. The perfect spot to see both the sea and the kiln. It wasn’t long before a weak light diluted the black sky to a charcoal gray, which weakened into a drab gray. Clouds boiled on the horizon. The water underneath the sky churned the color of a two-day-old bruise. I stepped closer to the edge of the cave. Lightning snaked from the clouds followed by the rumble of thunder. It would be a bleak day. Depressed, I huddled in my cloak as I descended the trail and walked onto the beach, thinking to feed the horses their morning grain. A spark of joy touched my soul. Startled, I looked around for Zitora. Had she uncovered her glass unicorn? Instead Kade strode toward me, holding a ball of fire. As he drew closer, the song in my heart expanded. It buzzed along my skin, vibrated in my blood. He stopped and held out the sphere to me. His orb. I grasped the ball. Energy sizzled and popped up my arms and down my spine. Light swirled inside, changing colors at an amazing speed. The sweet harmony of pure magic sang in my ears. Overwhelmed, I sank to the sand and cradled the orb in my lap. Kade knelt next to me. “What’s the matter?” “It …” Words to describe it died in my throat. “What?” he prompted. “It calls … no, sings to me. Silly, I know.” “Not silly at all. It sings to me, too.” His gaze met mine. It was the first time I had a chance to see him in the daylight. His amber-colored eyes held flecks of gold. Even though he radiated the air of someone much older, he had to be close to Zitora’s age. Straight hair fell to his shoulders, but the color reminded me of the sand from the Jewelrose Clan—a mixture of golds, browns and reds. Small droplets of mist clung to his long eyelashes, thin mustache and anchor-shaped goatee underneath his bottom lip. “Full orbs sing to Stormdancers, but I’ve never heard it call to anyone else.” Kade touched the orb. “Is it the energy inside or the glass that sings to you?” I concentrated on the sphere, running my fingers along the surface. It was smaller than the one Nodin showed me. About eight inches wide it was the size of a cantaloupe. I ignored the swirling light and focused on the glass. No marks. No flaws. Thick glass. Thicker than the empty spheres? No. Denser. The glass had absorbed the magic used to trap the storm’s energy. The vibrations felt different, so I thought magic hadn’t been used to form the glass. “Have any of these orbs shattered?” I asked. “A few over the years.” “Do you know why?” “Young fools trying to stuff too much energy into one sphere. Or they can shatter when a Stormdancer loses control of the waves and wind around him.” Chagrin tainted his voice. “In that case, the sphere is dashed to pieces on the rocks and if the Stormdancer is lucky, he’ll be rescued before his head meets the same fate.” “Talking from experience?” “Unfortunately. It’s a hard skill to learn, keeping a bubble of calm around you while the storm rages.” “Kade! What are you doing?” Raiden’s voice called. He and the others stopped about twenty feet from us. Kade stood. “She wanted to see the orb.” “Are you crazy? What if she drops it? You both could be killed.” I gained my feet and scanned their faces. They truly didn’t know. Not a clue among them. Even the glassmakers. I dropped the orb. 6 THE ORB BOUNCED on the sand and rolled a few feet. Horrified cries filled the air until the onlookers realized the orb hadn’t shattered. Kade blanched, but he hadn’t thrown his hands up in protection as Tal and Varun had done. “Heck of a demonstration. Did you know it wouldn’t break or are you just suicidal?” Kade asked with a touch of sarcasm. “Glass is an amazing material. Versatile, malleable and very strong.” “But not indestructible.” “No. I wouldn’t spike it on the hard ground, but no need to handle it like a delicate seashell.” “Point taken.” Kade retrieved the orb. “Nodin, can you get me one of your new orbs?” “Sure.” Nodin’s voice sounded thin as if he had forgotten to breathe. He hurried away. Zitora looked thoughtful and I wondered if she would reprimand me later. I wasn’t quite sure what had come over me. Perhaps it was in response to their reaction. Nodin returned with an empty sphere. I flung it hard to the sand. Again everyone flinched. This time the orb cracked into three large pieces. I picked up a shard and examined the inside of the glass. I wiped the sand from my hands. “Is the melt ready?” Varun nodded. “Okay. Let’s see how you make one of these.” The entire group hiked up to the kiln’s cave to watch as the siblings worked in perfect unison. As the oldest, Indra sat at the gaffer’s bench while Nodin gathered the molten glass on the end of a blowing pipe and placed it in the holders on the bench. Varun handed tools to his sister as she worked. During the process, Indra blew through the pipe and the ball expanded. Moving with a practiced quickness, Indra shaped the sphere. After multiple reheatings and blowings, she increased the size. When she was satisfied with the roundness, she signaled Nodin. He gathered a small dollop of melt onto the end of a pontil iron, making a punty. Attaching the punty onto the end of the sphere, Indra then dipped her tweezers into the bucket and dripped water onto the end of the blowpipe. Cracks webbed and, with a hard tap of the tweezers, the glass sphere cracked off the pipe and was now held by the pontil iron. Nodin inserted the sphere back into the kiln to soften the glass. Indra expanded the little hole left by cracking off the pipe, and formed the sphere’s lip. The piece was soon done and into the annealing oven. They did nothing wrong while crafting the piece. No actions that rendered it flawed. No magic, either. “Make another one, but this time I want to blow into the pipe,” I said. When Indra nodded to me, I bent, pursed my lips and blew through the pipe. Power from the source and not air from my lungs flowed through me and into the orb. It didn’t expand. The sphere stayed a fist-sized ball. Indra finished the piece and cracked it off into a heat resistant box. “That didn’t work,” I said into the silence. “But it glows,” Kade said. “You drew power.” Except Zitora, everyone stared at my piece in confusion. “Are you sure?” Nodin asked. “No offense, but it looks like a beginner’s effort.” “I’ve trapped a thread of magic inside the ball,” I explained. “Only magicians can see the glow.” “No.” Tal tensed and scowled. “That can’t be right. I can’t see the glow.” “It’s been tested,” Zitora said. “And we’ve been using Opal’s glass animals to evaluate potential students for the Keep. If they can see the glow, we know they possess magical power.” “No.” A stubborn line formed along Tal’s jaw. His eyes held fear. “Tal.” Raiden placed a hand on the young man’s shoulders. “You tried to call the wind with no success. You’re past puberty—” “No!” Tal shrugged Raiden’s hand off. “My father … My sister …” “Strong Stormdancers, I know. Stormdancing is a rare gift, be thankful your sister—” “I have it, too. It’s just … late. It’s just like the stubble on my chin, I don’t have enough power right now, but it’ll come. I know.” He left in a huff. Raiden stared after him. We stood in an uncomfortable silence until an earsplitting crack of thunder announced the storm’s impending arrival. Donning thick leather gloves, Nodin picked up my orb and placed it into the annealer. Indra and Varun reorganized their tools. Another rumble sounded. “The horses?” I asked. “I’ll get them,” Raiden said. “Go down to the third level. That’s the storm cave where we keep all the necessary provisions.” Zitora hurried to help Raiden. I turned to go when Kade stopped me. He handed me his orb. The energy within it intensified. It pulsed and quivered, sending shooting pains along my arms. “Keep it safe,” he said. “Where are you going?” “Out.” He gestured to the sea. “Why? You don’t have an orb.” “I can still bleed off energy from the storm.” “To where?” He huffed with impatience. “Into the rocks.” Before I could question him further, Kade said, “Ask Raiden, he’ll explain it.” He jogged down the trail. The sea heaved and thrashed around the rocks all but obscuring them. Foamy spray whipped through the air. Yet wherever Kade stepped, the water smoothed and his hair stayed in place, not even bothered by a faint breeze. Zitora’s voice cut through the storm’s rage, calling me. I rushed to catch up to her as she led Sudi into a low cave. Although the horse ducked her head, it was a tight fit. The top of the opening scraped along Sudi’s back. Once inside, the cavern’s ceiling rose to twelve feet. The area was roomy, with horse stalls near the back and torches blazing along the walls. Cots and chairs had been set up, Zitora helped start a fire, and Raiden filled a pot with water. “You shouldn’t bring that in here,” Raiden said, pointing at the orb in my hands. “It would take a lot more than dropping it on the ground to break,” I said. “I know it takes a hard blow to shatter it, but I don’t want my people to start being careless with them. Every Stormdance Clan member knows to handle the orbs with the utmost care and I want to keep it that way. Would you want to risk losing a life?” When I didn’t answer, he said, “There is a reason for the fear.” Chagrined, I said, “I hadn’t thought about it that way.” “Next time, you might want to think before you act.” Chastised, I stared at the floor. “There is a reason for everything, Opal. You might not be able to figure it out, and time might have made us all forget it, but the reason is there all the same.” Raiden hung his pot over the fire. “Who’s hungry for clam stew?” Raiden gave everyone who said, “me” a bucket of clams to open. I carried the orb to a safe spot in the back, setting it down on a pile of blankets. My hands and arms were numb from holding it. I covered it with another blanket to muffle its song. Between the roar of the storm and the trill of the orb, I would soon have a headache. I checked on Quartz before returning to the fire. She munched her hay, appearing to be unconcerned about the weather. I scratched behind her left ear and she groaned in contentment. When I sat down, Raiden handed me a dull knife and a handful of clams. I wouldn’t be allowed to partake in the meal without helping. I fumbled for a while, trying to pry open a shell. It didn’t take me long to find a rhythm, discovering another use for my strong hands. Tal arrived soaking wet and sullen. He popped open a few clams without looking or speaking to anyone. The rest just ignored him. Conversation focused on the orbs. I had been reluctant to state my theories before seeing how the glass was made, but when I examined the new orb in the firelight I felt more confident. “Something is wrong with the mix,” I said, holding up my hand to stop the protest perched on Indra’s lips. “The recipe is right, but the sand, soda ash or lime isn’t.” “What’s wrong with them?” Nodin asked. “You could have gotten a bad batch.” “Not helping.” Nodin tossed a clam into the pot. “There is something in the mix that is causing the glass to be less dense. It can’t absorb the energy from the storm.” “Which ingredient is deficient?” Indra asked. “I don’t know. I could take samples of each to my father. He would be able to find out.” “What do we do in the meantime?” Raiden asked. “The storms are only going to get worse.” “Kade is dancing now. Why can’t you have all your Stormdancers bleeding off energy until we figure out what is wrong?” Tal snorted with derision. “All he’s doing is taking a small stick out of a big fire.” “It’s dangerous. No other Stormdancer would do it. There’s no reason for the risk.” Raiden nodded at me as if we shared a private joke. “The almighty Kade likes to show off,” Tal grumbled. “Rub it in.” “He has his own reasons.” Raiden stirred the stew. After we had tossed the empty shells to the beach, Nodin asked about my magic. “Tell me again how it works.” Zitora and I explained about the two uses of my pieces. “I can use this new one when my unicorn is spent,” Zitora said. “No.” The word sprang from my throat before logic could be applied. “I want to keep it to … to compare it to … my other works.” Weak explanation, I knew, but this orb hummed like Kade’s sphere and I was reluctant to give it away. “How is this different?” Nodin asked. “It has a different … call.” “Call?” Nodin cocked an eyebrow, inviting enlightenment. “Each of my glass pieces calls to me. I don’t hear it like sound. I feel it.” I tapped my chest. “Inside. Whenever one of my animals is close to me, I know which one it is and where it is even if I can’t see it.” He whistled. “You could feel this before you fell into the water and hit your head on the rocks? Right?” “Yes.” “Because it makes more sense the other way.” “Nodin,” Raiden warned. “That’s enough.” We ate our stew in relative silence. The keening of the wind echoed in the cavern and errant gusts fanned the flames. Soon a fine sea mist coated everything in the cave. I didn’t sleep well. My cot felt as if it bobbed on a wild sea and the wind infiltrated my dreams, moaning a name over and over in my mind. Laced with grief and loss, the wind’s cry filled my heart with sadness. The storm passed by daybreak. Kade arrived. Exhaustion lined his face and his clothes dripped with seawater. “Fall in?” Tal asked with barely concealed spite. If Kade noticed, he didn’t show it. He nodded. “Lost my grip for a second and was blown into the water.” Raiden shot Kade a horrified look. “Luckily I managed to construct a bubble and climb back onto the rocks.” Kade squeezed the ends of his hair. Water rained to the floor. “Luck had nothing to do with it,” Raiden said. “Your powers have grown since—” “Don’t say it,” Kade snapped. Raiden frowned. “The storm almost killed you. You shouldn’t dance anymore.” The Stormdancer lingered near the cave’s entrance. He peered out to the sea. “You’re right.” Raiden covered his surprise by turning away to concentrate on breakfast. I guessed Kade didn’t agree with Raiden very often. Kade walked to the back of the cave to retrieve his orb. When the sphere was uncovered, I flinched with the sudden intensity of its song. Tal narrowed his eyes at me. “Don’t tell me you hear it.” When I didn’t reply, he flew into a rage. “You can’t possibly hear it. You’re younger than me. And you’re not even a member of our clan.” He brushed past me, knocking me down. “Raiden,” Indra said. “I know.” The older man sighed. He helped me to my feet. “Sorry about that. Tal’s getting worse. I’ll send him home.” “Wait,” Varun said. “He’s having a hard time adjusting. Before Opal’s device gave him proof, he still hoped he might develop magical powers. It’ll take a while for him to accept it. I’ll talk to him.” “Fine. But tell him one more outburst and I’m sending him home for good.” Varun agreed and followed Tal. Raiden served the rest of us bowls of warm oatmeal. The thick mush had a fishy taste. He laughed at my expression. “All our meals have fish in it. Cuts down on the amount of supplies we need.” “Speaking of supplies,” Indra said. “What do we do about the glass ingredients?” “Can you get a new batch?” Zitora asked. “No. We stockpile the ingredients inland near Thunder Valley and bring only enough for each season. If one of the compounds is tainted, then the whole stockpile will be suspect,” Indra explained. “How about ordering in fresh supplies?” The glassmaker shook her head. “We wouldn’t get them in time. The special components in our mixture come from far away.” “We really need to know which one is causing the problem,” Nodin said. “Are the different components in separate stockpiles?” I asked. “Yes. They’re mixed right before we leave.” He paced around the campfire, pulling at his tight curls. They sprang back as soon as he released one. “Opal, you wanted to take samples to your father. Is there anyone else who is closer?” Zitora asked. “How about the Citadel’s glassmaker?” “Aydan only works with one type of glass. My father really is the best one to ask. He has an extensive laboratory and experiments with sand while the other glassmakers find a mix they like and stay with the same recipe forever.” “Can he come here?” Nodin stopped pacing. Hope touched his voice. “He’ll need his lab. If it was an obvious substance, I would have seen it.” “Is that why you ran them through your fingers?” “Yes.” “How long will it take?” Kade joined us by the fire. He had wrapped his orb in the blanket and cradled the bundle. “Seven days one way if the weather is good. Then it depends on Opal’s father.” Zitora looked at me. “A day. Maybe two.” I guessed. “How long do you have before it’s too late?” Zitora asked Raiden. “The storms are forming every four days now. In another three weeks, they’ll be coming every two days. Without Stormdancers and orbs, this cavern will be underwater until the middle of the cold season.” “Let’s say nine days from now we have an answer. We can communicate through Opal’s glass animals and you can order a fresh batch.” Indra stood. “That could work. We’ll need Opal back, though.” Surprised, I asked why. “To test the ingredients before they’re melted into glass. We can’t guess that the new supplies are pure. Plus we couldn’t tell the difference between the orbs. You’ll know if they’ll hold the storm’s energy.” “But—” Zitora cut me off. “What happens if it’s one of your special ingredients that are tainted?” “We don’t dance,” Kade said. “People die.” Kade’s words weighed heavy on my mind as we prepared to leave The Cliffs. Varun and Kade would accompany Zitora and me to their stockpile near Thunder Valley and remain there until they heard from us. I gave my little ball to the Stormdancer so he could try to communicate with Zitora through the glass. She was on the beach with her unicorn and we were in his tiny sleeping cave decorated with a cot, a chair and a desk. Piles of books lined the back wall. A small coal stove rested near the entrance, but not too close to the wood and cloth privacy screen. Kade had stored the orb—still covered with the blanket—under his cot. After I had glanced around his cave, Kade shrugged. “It suits me. When I spend all day in the wild vastness of sea and storms, it’s soothing to be surrounded by stone.” Kade settled on the cot, sitting cross-legged and peered into the glass. A heartbeat later, he yelped in surprise and fumbled the ball. I suppressed a giggle, but couldn’t stop the smirk. “I suppose the first time you heard a voice in your head you were unperturbed?” he asked in annoyance. The smile dropped from my lips. “I don’t have the magical ability to hear thoughts.” “I don’t, either, but Zitora does. As long as you have magic, you should be able to hear her.” “I can’t.” I turned away before I could see his pity. The Masters could communicate with every magician in Sitia. Except me. Even people with only one trick could hear the Masters’ call. Except me. “Since the test was a success, I’d better go help Zitora saddle the horses.” I ducked to leave. “But you can hear the orb’s call,” Kade said to my back. The orb’s song pierced my heart. I jerked, turning around. Kade had uncovered the sphere. “What does it say to you?” he asked. I concentrated. The orb’s song pulsed in time with the sea and hummed in tune with the wind. Among the melody moaned a name. The same name that haunted my dreams last night. “Kaya.” Kade froze in horror. He stared at me with such intensity I stepped back. “My sister’s name,” he said as if every word pained him. “You have a sister?” “Had. She died. Killed by one of the flawed orbs.” 7 GRIEF WELLED IN Kade’s eyes. The obvious pain of his sister’s death still ripping his insides like a broken knife. I remembered the weeks after my sister Tula had died. The pain would only dull with time. “I’m so sorry,” I said. “I know—” “You know nothing.” Kade spat the words out. “Please spare me the empty and banal responses of sympathy. They are meaningless.” I wanted to correct him, but from his reaction I knew he wasn’t ready to hear it. Kade grabbed my shoulders and dragged me close. “Did Raiden tell you her name? Hope that I would confess my woes to you?” He dug his fingers into my skin. “No one told me. Let go. You’re hurting me.” “Did Master Cowan pull the information from my head?” I wished I had one of my sais so I could knock sense into him. “She would never intrude on your private thoughts. The orb told me. Let go now!” I brought my arms up between his and swept them out to the side, breaking his hold on my shoulders. He stumbled back and I pushed him farther away with my foot. He landed on his cot. At least I had paid attention in self-defense class. Another skill learned from my four years at the Keep. Yippee for me. “Do you have water in your ears? What part of ‘let go’ didn’t you understand?” I scolded, reverting into my really-annoyed-older-sister mode. When anger flamed in Kade’s eyes, I realized I dealt with a grown man and Stormdancer. He could probably order the wind to suck me out of the cave and drop me onto the beach far below. Big difference from fighting with my younger brother, Ahir, whose only talent was to pester me to distraction. “Opal,” Zitora called from below. I glanced over the edge. “We need to hurry. I want to reach The Flats by sunset.” My thoughts lingered on Kade and his orb as I helped Zitora saddle the horses and pack the bags. Varun and Kade arrived with full backpacks and I tied their sleeping rolls onto the saddles. Since they didn’t have any horses, we would share mounts to Thunder Valley. I eyed Kade’s pack with trepidation. He had taken his orb and its muted voice reached me even through the leather. Soon the whole Stormdance team milled around, waiting to say goodbye. Raiden gave us a few instructions. “If you’re not back here in eighteen days, then don’t bother. We’re clearing out on day nineteen.” “If the storm pattern changes, don’t hesitate to leave sooner. Just send me a message,” Kade said. “Will do.” Raiden scanned the sky. “We’ll keep the kiln hot,” Indra said. After all the goodbyes and thank yous, we led the horses up The Cliffs. The ascent felt easier. Perhaps because I tended to look up instead of down. We reached The Flats without any problems. As soon as we were rested, Zitora mounted Sudi. “Varun, you’ll ride with me. Kade, you’re with Opal.” When no one moved, Zitora ordered, “Let’s go. I want to get in a few more miles before we stop for the night.” I don’t know why I thought Zitora and I would share a mount, but it appeared the men had assumed the same thing. They glanced at each other. Varun shrugged. He shouldered his pack and swung up behind Zitora. Quartz bumped my arm with her nose. If horses could laugh, I had the feeling she would be chuckling. Kade grabbed Quartz’s reins. “Should I?” he asked. “No. She’s my horse. I’ll take them.” “Suit yourself.” I hopped into the saddle and Kade settled in behind me. It was a tight fit. I tried not to think about his legs pressed against mine, and about where my backside was nestled. Strong arms wrapped around my waist. I was suddenly glad he couldn’t see my flushed face. His chest molded to my back and the orb’s song grew louder. Its energy vibrated in my heart. I urged Quartz into a gallop, hoping to distract myself from the hot tingle pulsing through my blood. We aimed toward the setting sun and kept going once the light disappeared. Zitora slowed our pace, allowing the horses to find a good path in the darkness. Kade had remained quiet, but I felt him draw a breath. “When I asked you what the orb says to you, I meant just general feelings like happy, sad or angry. Stormdancers hear the storm’s personality in the orb. I wanted to see if it was the same for you.” A pause. “You surprised me with your answer.” Was this an apology? I searched for a reply. “I didn’t mean to upset you.” “I know that … now.” We rode for a while without saying anything. Finally, I asked, “Storms have personalities?” “Yes. There’re subtle differences in the storms. A few blow big and angry, others delight in their energy, some rage with malice, while others brood. Strange, I know.” “Not strange to me. It’s similar to my glass animals. They all call to me in different ways. If I really thought about it, I could assign emotions to them like you do with the storms.” He huffed. “I never would have thought storms and glass could have something in common.” “But you put the storm’s energy into glass.” “Before I met you, I thought glass was just a container. No personality. I didn’t realize what could be done with it.” “What do you mean?” A grunt of frustration. “It’s like paint.” “Paint?” “Yes, paint. I can dip a brush and smooth paint on a canvas, but all I end up with is a smear of paint. While another can use that same paint and create a masterpiece.” “I would hardly call my animals masterpieces.” “Can anyone else do it?” “Not that I know of.” “Then they are truly unique and you should be proud of them.” I squirmed at the thought. I was proud of what they could do, but Tula’s glass creations were crafted better. More life-like in detail and sought after by collectors, especially since there would be no more. A flare of grief burned in my throat. I swallowed it down and changed the subject. “Why do you keep the orb?” I asked. His grip on my waist tightened for a moment before he relaxed. “I was filling the orb when my sister died. Kaya worked on another outcrop two hundred feet away during a sullen storm. I knew the instant her orb shattered. By the time I reached her, she had lost too much blood.” I wanted to express my regret, but, after what had happened in his cave, I kept quiet. “I keep the orb because it … comforts me. I don’t expect you to understand, but it reminds me of Kaya. She could be sullen and moody, yet when she smiled, all was forgiven.” I understood all too well. Siblings fight. They hate each other and love each other, and there are times when one emotion is a heartbeat away from the other. “Perhaps that’s why the orb sings her name,” I said. “Perhaps.” A long pause, then he whispered, “But I don’t hear her name.” Zitora finally stopped when the moon reached its zenith. We made a fire from the driftwood we had packed. After sitting on the ground for a few minutes, I wished we had taken a couple chairs, too. “We’ll have to buy fresh supplies,” Zitora said. “How far are your stockpiles from the market?” “Not far. The market is an hour’s ride east,” Varun answered. I thought about the location of their stockpiles. “How do you get the glass ingredients down to the beach?” I asked Varun. “Wagons won’t fit on The Cliff’s trail.” “There is another way to the beach. If you head northwest through the Krystal Clan’s lands, there’s a wide slope down to the coast. Then you go straight south to reach The Cliffs. It’s the long way. When we’re in a hurry, we take the loads over The Flats and lower them with ropes. An unpleasant task.” He launched into a story about losing a whole load of lime when a rope broke. “It looked like it snowed on The Cliffs” He chuckled. Then he added—with a touch of sourness—”Being the youngest, I was assigned the task of scraping lime off the rocks and picking out impurities before my father and sister could put it into the glass mix.” “Why make the orbs on-site? Why not make them in Thunder Valley and transport them to The Cliffs?” I asked. “It would be easier.” “I asked my father the same thing.” Varun squirmed into a more comfortable position. “He quoted me three reasons. Tradition, secrecy and convenience in case more orbs are needed during the storm seasons. Although having to wait twelve hours for an orb seems long to me.” “Better than two days,” Kade said. “And it could be the difference between life and death.” Varun and I talked for a while about glassmaking in general. At one point, Varun shook his head. “I don’t feel the same … enthusiasm you do about working with glass,” he said. “To me, it’s a job to get done so I can go do other things.” “You have time for other activities?” I asked. “Sure. We work for four weeks making orbs, wait out each season just in case they need more, and then have the rest of the year to ourselves.” Varun picked up a stick and poked the fire. “Usually we work other jobs.” Poke. Sparks flew. “We don’t get enough money from crafting orbs to live.” He jabbed at the embers. “You’re well paid for a half a season of work,” Kade said. His tone held a warning note. Varun snorted, but said nothing. Zitora broke the awkward silence with orders for everyone to get a few hours’ rest. “A few?” Varun asked. “Seventeen days left,” Zitora replied. “What about setting a watch schedule?” I asked her. “No need. I’ll know if anyone comes close.” “Will you let them? I’d like a little notice if I’m going to wake up with a sword pointed at my throat again.” I shivered at the memory. “Again?” Kade asked. Zitora filled him in about the ambush. “Does Raiden know?” “Yes.” “Isolated attack or can we expect more trouble?” Kade asked. “We didn’t have time to find out. I’m hoping Master Jewelrose has interrogated them before we arrive in Thunder Valley. Do you know anyone who wants to keep you from dancing?” Kade’s gaze grew distant. “The other clans have always complained about our using the storm’s energy to fuel our factories, saying it gives us an unfair advantage in producing cheaper goods. The Krystal and Moon Clans have been most vocal. They’ve even offered to buy full orbs from us, but there are just enough orbs for our factories. And some years are leaner than others. It all depends on how many storms we get and how strong they are.” “Hopefully once we arrive at Thunder Valley, we’ll find out who wanted to stop us from helping you,” Zitora said. “Then I’d better come to town with you,” Kade said. “We’ll drop Varun off at the stockpiles and I’ll walk back.” “I get to babysit piles of sand while you’re in town.” Sarcasm dripped from Varun’s voice. “How exciting.” Sleeping on the uneven shale ground proved difficult. I struggled to find a comfortable spot and managed only short snatches of sleep. And Kaya haunted my dreams. She beckoned to me, wanting my help, but I couldn’t reach her. She was encased in glass. A shrill sound pierced my mind and I bolted into a sitting position. Kade sat with his orb cradled in his lap, staring into its depths, lost in another world. Zitora and Varun appeared to be asleep. The fire had burned down into a few glowing embers. “Kade?” He jerked as if startled, but didn’t look at me. “Go back to sleep.” “I can’t.” Now he peered at me through the darkness. “Why not?” “Your orb.” I gestured. “Your sister. You need to cover it.” He returned his attention to the orb. “She was so stubborn. We had a couple of the old orbs left, but she insisted on using a new one despite the danger. Claimed Gian’s death was his own fault. Said he had been too ambitious and caused the orb to shatter. Called the old orbs brittle.” I waited, sensing he had more to say. “She was the strongest Stormdancer, and therefore in charge of us. She made the final decisions.” He smiled at a memory. “She was a year younger than me, but she bossed me around since we were toddlers.” He laughed. “My parents knew what they were doing when they named her. Kaya means ‘my older little sister.’” “And I thought that bossy quality was reserved for annoying younger brothers,” I said. “Mine thinks he knows everything and will argue about it even when I prove him wrong.” Funny how I could miss having him around. “I would have liked to have a brother, but all I had was Kaya. Do you have any other siblings?” “Two older sisters, but—” “Do they all work with glass?” “Yes.” “Do they have magical abilities?” “So far, I’m the only one. Ahir has just reached puberty. The Keep magicians will test him when he visits me this year.” “Kaya and I could both call the wind,” Kade said. “Very fortunate and very unusual, considering neither of my parents has that ability.” “Who is the strongest Stormdancer now?” “I am. Although I shouldn’t be. When Kaya died, my powers doubled.” Our early-morning conversation woke Zitora. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes. “Since you’re awake,” she said drily, “you can feed and saddle the horses.” I was happy to oblige. Another minute on the hard shale ground and I would have a stiff back. Not pleasant, considering I had run out of Barbasco yams. Kade helped with the horses while Zitora roused Varun. In no time we were on horseback, eating a cold breakfast of beef jerky. Yesterday’s awkwardness between Kade and me was gone, but my skin still tingled where our bodies touched. Just past the edge of The Flats, we dropped Varun off at the stockpiles. Mounds of sand littered the clearing. Soda ash and lime had been heaped inside small buildings to protect them from the rain. A log building housed an office and modest living area. The building was used by the glassmakers before the season started to make sure the proper goods were delivered from the other clans. We left Varun a few provisions and Kade promised to bring back more. I collected samples from each stockpile before we headed east. We soon reached Thunder Valley. The main core of the city was only a few blocks long, about half the size of my hometown of Booruby. However, Thunder Valley wasn’t the capital for the Stormdance Clan. Kade explained the town grew around the market. “The market was located here so it would be equidistant from all the towns in our lands. It’s also along the main north-south road.” People hustled through the streets. Most carried packages while others pulled wagons. The heavy scent of fresh bread floated in the air. The buildings, made of wood or stone or a combination of the two, leaned together in an odd collection of sizes and shapes. We stopped at the town’s square. Zitora pointed to an official-looking building that was three times as wide as its neighbors and had been constructed with large white stones. Iron bars covered the windows along the ground floor of the structure. “I’ll talk to the authorities about our ambushers. To save time, why don’t you buy our supplies and I’ll meet you at the market.” She recited a list of items to purchase. Kade slid off the saddle to join Zitora and I was left to take care of the horses. Without the Stormdancer behind me, the cool air on my back gave me a chill. I couldn’t help feeling left out even though I knew Zitora was right. We shouldn’t linger too long since we had another five days before we reached Booruby. I found the market by following the scent of spiced beef sizzling over an open flame. Tying the horses to a nearby hitching post, I wandered through the market’s stalls. The open wooden stands had roofs tiled with shale shingles and all had bamboo shades to protect them from the wind and rain. On a clear day like this morning, the shades were rolled up and tied to the roof. I bought a loaf of bread, a hunk of cow cheese and a handful of pork jerky. After I finished shopping, I packed the supplies in our saddlebags. With my chore done, I strolled through the market again. This time I purchased a spiced beef stick to eat for lunch and lingered to examine the glasswares for sale. A stall filled with decorative pieces drew my attention. I stopped to appreciate the craftsmanship of a delicate vase. The clear glass had a swirl of green bubbles spiraling around the tall flute. Sometimes bubbles or seeds meant a mistake, but the effect was stunning. The vase didn’t sing, but faint pops throbbed in my fingertips. “Ten silvers for the vase,” the stand owner said. She was an older woman with gray strands streaking her faded black hair. Her lined face looked as if she had weathered one too many storms. “Did you make this?” I asked. “No. Imported from Ixia.” “Ixia?” The few pieces I’ve seen from Ixia had all been thick and practical. No popping. She wanted to inflate the price. “Nine silvers, but not a copper less.” She waggled a slender finger. “Do you know who made the vase?” “I’m not telling you! You’ll go right to the glassmaker, undercut my business. Eight and a half silvers. Final offer.” “Six,” I countered. “Seven.” “Deal.” The woman muttered under her breath as she wrapped the vase and snatched my money. I hoped to find the artist and the best way would be to show the vase around to see if anyone knew who made it. The woman handed me the package. I could no longer feel the pops through the thick wrapping. Even so, I felt certain the glassmaker was in the market. I hurried toward the east side positive I would find him. A column of gray smoke rising in the distance must be from a kiln, I decided. The hot smell of molten glass drew me on until I passed through the market and followed a narrow cobblestone street. Convinced I would find the artist working in one of these abandoned warehouses, I peered through all the windows. One of the buildings had collapsed and covered the road, creating a dead end. When I reached the rubble, all signs of a kiln disappeared. And my conviction fled. The air smelled of excrement and garbage. I turned to go back. A man blocked my way. He held a sword. Blue Eyes. 8 Blue Eyes. But he should be incarcerated in the Thunder Valley jail with the other ambushers. Yet there he stood. His blade poised for trouble. I labored to keep my breathing steady. The collapsed building behind me prevented any chance to run away. In fact, the whole alley was quite deserted. A place I would normally avoid. I must have been tricked by magic. His sword was not his only weapon. Setting my package out of the way, I pulled my sais from their sheaths, and slid my legs into a defensive position, turning my hips and feet to the right side so I made a thinner target. I rested the sais’ weight in the crook of each hand. My forefinger lay on the hilt, pointing toward the weighted knob at the top. The rest of my fingers curled around the U-shaped guard. The metal shaft of my weapons felt icy against my hot forearms. He advanced. My heart slammed in my chest as fear shot through my body. Sais were not cutting weapons. They blocked swords and bow staffs and could—in the hands of an expert—trap and yank those weapons from an opponent’s hands, but with a quick change in grip I could strike, knocking an attacker unconscious. Five feet away from me he stopped. “Put your sais down,” he said. “And I will not hurt you.” “No. Last time you wanted to finish the job, which included killing me and my companion.” “Your companion.” His mouth twisted into a tight smile, but the humor failed to reach his cold eyes. “A Master Magician. A surprise that should not have been.” He stepped another foot closer. “I do not want to kill you.” “Good to know.” I glanced at his blade. Sharpness gleamed from the edges. His actions didn’t match his words. “Your life is precious to me now that I know who you are.” “You knew I was a glassmaker before.” “Yes, but not The Glass Magician.” “What?” “You will come with me.” The desire to agree pressed on my shoulders and climbed up my throat. I bit my lip to keep the words trapped in my mouth. My muscles tensed with the need to obey, yet I resisted, knowing he used magic. He had caught me unaware before to trap me here, but now I was braced for his magical suggestions. “No,” I said, hoping his powers were weak. Controlling the mind and/or body was an advanced skill, requiring strong magic. His brow furrowed and the compulsion to join him flared inside me with a painful intensity. An annoyed breath huffed from his lips. “Submit or I will hurt you.” He snarled, showing his teeth. I had done the willing victim routine before. Last time the order had been the go-with-Alea-or-my-sister-would-be-killed threat. My sister died anyway. Lesson learned. “No.” He moved. Jabbing his sword toward my arms, he lunged. I yelped and blocked the blade, swinging my right sais down. With a flick of his wrist he looped his weapon out of reach. The tip snaked past my upper left arm, leaving behind a burning slash. Blood brimmed and spilled, soaking the sleeve of my tunic. I was out of my league. “Do you submit?” “No.” He shrugged. In a blink, his sword thrust toward my neck. I flipped the sais into an X and deflected the blade up. The force of his blow throbbed through my wrists. The clang of metal echoed in the alley. Blue Eyes pulled his sword back and tried another lunge. I pushed the weapon toward the ground, but again he flicked his wrist. A line of fire blazed on my right arm. Wonderful. Matching cuts. He paused with his sword held in midair. My blood stained the tip. I glanced past him. Didn’t anyone hear the fight? Should I scream? “Submit? You will have so many cuts on your arms and legs, you will faint from lack of blood.” “No.” “Suit yourself.” He launched another flurry of attacks. My breath puffed from the effort of defending myself. When he halted, blood soaked my upper thighs. The ground wobbled. “You cannot beat me,” Blue Eyes said. “And there is no one here to help you.” Not yet. I aimed my left sais at his temple. He blocked with ease and countered. This time he nicked both my shoulders. A buzzing sounded in my ears as dizziness danced behind my eyes. “Okay.” I gasped. “I can’t … beat … you.” I drew in two deep breaths, trying to steady myself. “But I can … delay … you.” I sucked in a large gulp of air and yelled, “Master Cowan, over here.” Blue Eyes spun. I rushed him, knocked him over and sprinted past. In my mind, it was a great plan. If he hadn’t recovered so quickly, I would have made it out of the alley. Instead, he tripped me. I fell and rolled over in time to see Blue Eyes level his sword at my throat. I’d been here before. “Submit.” No other alternative at this point. He wasn’t going to kill me, but the overwhelming dread at being helpless and at his mercy made me wish he would. “All right.” Pleased, Blue Eyes stepped back and offered a hand. “Stand,” he ordered as if commanding a pet. His sword remained pointed at the ground. I ignored his help and summoned the energy to move. A high-pitched whistle sounded behind me before a wall of air slammed into us. The force rolled me along the ground. Blue Eyes flew back and landed in the building’s rubble. I rubbed the grit from my eyes in time to see Kade running toward me. He yanked me to my feet. “Let’s go,” he said. “My vase.” I gestured to the package. It had been blown against the rubble pile. Probably broken, but I wanted it. Kade huffed in annoyance. He sprinted over and grabbed it. Blue Eyes stirred. Kade hurried back and hustled me from the alley, only stopping when we reached the market. I sank to the ground to catch my breath. Kade knelt next to me. “Are you all right?” “Dizzy.” “You’re covered in blood.” He pulled at my clothing, searching for injuries. I slapped his hand away. “Arms. Legs. No others.” “Let’s get you to a healer. Come on, before your attacker finds us.” “Why the hurry? Couldn’t you just—” I waved my hand “—blow him over again?” He gave me a dry smile. “The air is calm today. Happy. It required a lot of effort to convince it to blow. I doubt I can do it again.” Kade practically dragged me to the healer’s house. We met Zitora on the way and she supported his decision to take me there, claiming her healing powers could only do so much. The tall healer led us to a room which contained the equipment needed to tend to the sick—a bed and a table loaded with supplies. After I lay on the bed, Zitora peppered me with questions, which distracted me from the healer’s ministrations. I had thought it hurt before he cleaned the cuts, but the wounds screamed with a new level of pain as the sharp sting of alcohol inflamed them. I answered Zitora as best I could. I faded in and out of consciousness as the healer and Zitora worked on my injuries. I woke. Lanterns blazed in the room and shadows waltzed along the stone walls. Worried I had wasted time, I sat up too fast and had to wait until the dizziness passed. Once the room stopped spinning, I found a clean set of my own clothes folded at the foot of the bed. The cuts on my arms and legs throbbed. The injuries looked about two days old with ugly scabs forming, but they remained tender to the touch. My abused muscles protested each movement as I dressed. I considered the discarded pile of bloodstained and tattered clothing. They were too ruined for even the Keep’s talented seamstress, so I left them there. I would have to order more of the long-sleeved tunics and linen pants that I preferred to wear. Good thing I had left my cloak with the horses. Zitora and Kade waited in the front room of the house. Both had dark smudges under their eyes. Exhaustion lined Zitora’s face. “Feeling better?” “Thanks to you … and Kade. How did you find me?” I asked the Stormdancer. “I heard you yell for Master Cowan.” “We were supposed to meet at the horses. Why were you there?” I asked. He exchanged a glance with Zitora. She nodded. “We were searching for you.” I waited. Zitora sighed. “We met with the Stormdance officials. They arrested the group of ambushers we paralyzed, and despite keeping the magicians unconscious, they escaped the first chance they got. Since we knew the ambushers were free, we wanted to warn you. When we couldn’t find you in the market, we broadened our search.” “How did they escape?” I asked. “There was another magician. Since he didn’t use his magic during the attack, I didn’t pick up on it.” “Blue Eyes is a magician.” I explained about being lured away from the market. “He could be a one-trick. Makes sense since he couldn’t force you to go with him when you knew about his magic.” Zitora rubbed her eyes. “Do the guards know who the members of the group are?” I asked. “Not really,” Zitora said. “After tending your wounds, I returned to talk to the administrator. Seems they are from the Krystal Clan. But we don’t know whether they’re sanctioned by the main government or a separate group. I’ve contacted Irys and she will detour to the Krystal Clan’s capital to investigate.” “Irys?” Kade asked. “Master Jewelrose. What about the other magicians?” I asked Zitora. “The woman and man. Are they Keep trained?” “No. I’ve never seen them before.” Apprehension coiled in my stomach. “Warpers?” Zitora shook her head. “No. There are no more Warpers. After General Cahil captured them all, they were executed.” I relaxed. “I feel like I’ve come late to the party. What are Warpers?” Kade asked. I almost groaned out loud. An explanation could take days to tell. “Have you heard of the Daviians?” “The group of rogue Sandseed Clan members who formed their own clan on the Daviian Plateau?” “Right. The Daviian magicians, who used to be Sandseed Story Weavers, were the Warpers. They used blood magic to enhance their powers and tried to take control of the Sitian Council.” “And control the Master Magicians,” Zitora added with a bitter tone. “They almost succeeded, too, because of Roze.” “Roze Featherstone,” I added for Kade’s benefit. “She was First Magician and the leader of the Daviian Clan.” “Yes, but Yelena Zaltana stopped them—that part I know. Could this be another group of rogue magicians?” Kade looked at Zitora. “I don’t know if they’re organized as a group or are just a couple of dissatisfied magicians. Not all magicians in Sitia have to be Keep trained. You’ve learned how to control your power from other Stormdancers. Same with the Sandseed Story Weavers. The Masters can detect uncontrolled power and we find the person before they can flame out, which will kill the person and damage the power source. Once a magician has control of their power, the danger of a flameout is little to none.” Zitora stood and smoothed the wrinkles from her pants. “I wish I could stay and investigate more, but we need to go. And—” she smiled “—it seems I can’t leave Opal alone without her getting into trouble.” Her words reminded me. “Did the city guards find Blue Eyes in the alley?” Zitora sobered. “When we returned, he was gone. And they haven’t found any trace of him.” My skin crawled with the feeling of being watched by Blue Eyes. I crossed my arms and rubbed my hands along my upper arms. The pain reminded me of how close I had come to being captured and of my inexperience with fighting. “All the more reason to practice with my sais.” “And more reason for me to ask around. See if I can discover any helpful information,” Kade said. “I’m sure Varun will be fine for another day.” “Be careful,” Zitora said. “He’s armed.” “I’m a Stormdancer! Mere metal is nothing compared with the power of a storm.” Kade made his voice boom and spread his arms wide. His eyes sparked with humor. “I. Am. Invincible.” “Until a happy wind blows,” I said. “Curse those sunny days.” “The bane of your existence.” “The scourge of society.” “The downfall of decency.” “And boring, too. Nothing like a good gale to put a spring in your step.” Kade grinned. It was the first real smile I’d seen from him. His stern demeanor disappeared; replaced by a carefree mischievousness. There was an inner fire in his soul. Muted by grief and loss, but there all the same. “All right, that’s enough,” Zitora said. “Kade, send us a message if you learn anything.” “Yes, sir,” he snapped and probably would have saluted if Zitora hadn’t pushed him out the door. Zitora and I raced to Booruby. She was determined to get there as quickly as possible without exhausting the horses. At different times during the five-day journey, I wished I were a horse, wished I was back at the Keep and even wished for a day of rain to slow our brutal pace. The Barbasco yams only helped with aches and pains, not bone-deep fatigue. On the afternoon of the fifth day, I caught sight of the brick smokestack from my family’s glass factory. I cried out and urged Quartz faster through the busy streets of Booruby. Located on the far east side of the city, our buildings were the last ones before the Avibian Plains. Funny how I never considered the flat grasslands of the Plains to be so welcoming before. The commotion from our arrival was loud enough to draw Ahir from the factory. I never thought I would be so happy to see my brother. I slid off Quartz in time to be knocked over by Ahir. “Ugh … you’re heavy. Do you have sand in your pockets?” I asked. “You wish, big sister.” Ahir helped me to my feet. The top of my head reached his nose. He had grown at least six inches since I had visited during the hot season, towering over my own five-foot seven-inch height. “Now you can’t call me your little brother anymore.” He smirked. “Sure I can, Ahir. No matter how big and fat you get, you’ll always have a little brain.” “You wish, snake spit,” he countered. “I know, fly breath.” “Opal, that’s enough. We’re on a time schedule,” Zitora said in exasperation. “Ahir, where is your father?” His eyes lit up. “Is Opal in trouble?” Ahir ignored her annoyed frown, relishing the possibility that I might be in trouble. “Ahir, you don’t want to keep Master Cowan waiting,” I said. “Oh boy! You must be in big trouble.” He rubbed his hands together. “He’s in the factory, working with Mara.” Ahir trailed behind us like a dog hoping for treats. Zitora hesitated on the threshold of the building. The heat and roar from the eight kilns presented a physical force, but she pushed through. To me, the thick air and pulsing growl wrapped around me like a favorite blanket. Home. My father worked at a gaffer’s bench with my sister assisting him. His wide, adept hands pulled and plucked at the molten glass with ease. Hunching over his work, he didn’t notice us. The familiar sight of his broad shoulders and strong back tugged at my bruised body. I wanted to hop into his embrace so he could make everything all right again. Instead, I signaled to Mara. She paused in her duties and sent me a welcoming smile. Her perfectly shaped features and wide tawny-colored eyes attracted men to her like snakes to the heat. She had gotten Tula’s and my share of beauty. With her long golden curls and curvy figure, she had the complete opposite of my, with my straight hair and athletic build. While all of us had brown eyes, hers were light and interesting; Tula’s and mine were dark brown and ordinary. Ahir’s were almost black, which matched the color of his short moppy hair. I let Mara know we would wait for Father outside. Ahir tried to come with us, but Mara snapped her fingers at him and pointed to another kiln. He hung his head and slouched back to work. “It’s an oven in there,” Zitora exclaimed. “How do you stand it?” I shrugged. “Growing up, I spent more time in the factory than the house. Probably the reason I hate the cold.” I rubbed my arms. “It gets really hot when all eight kilns are fired. Eight is too many for my family to handle, so we hired a few locals, two uncles and a bunch of cousins to work the kilns. Shifts help with heat exhaustion. My father makes us take a break after each piece we make.” When my father came outside, his shoulders brushed the doorway. He squinted. In the sunlight, his resemblance to Ahir was unmistakable. Although only a few black strands remained in his short gray hair and Ahir still had a couple more inches to grow before catching up with Father’s height. “Opal.” Father crushed me in a bear hug. I suppressed a wince. Five days of hard riding had not been conducive to healing. My injuries remained tender to the touch. He released me. “Father, I would like to introduce you to Master Cowan, Second Magician. Master Cowan, this is my father, Jaymes Cowan.” He shook her hand, and invited us inside the house for refreshments. Heat and the smell of molten glass radiated off his body. Zitora declined. “It’s an urgent matter. Is there a private place we can talk?” He shot me a look of alarmed concern. A familiar situation. If I had been guilty of any misdeed, I would have burst into tears and confessed upon seeing his ire. I quickly shook my head lest he suspect me of being in trouble. “We can talk in my lab,” he said. We followed him to a small one-story building tucked behind the factory. He led us into his laboratory, where he experimented with various sand mixtures and chemicals to produce glass of different colors and consistencies. Metal tables lined the room. Tools and various measuring equipment hung from neat rows of hooks, and stainless steel bowls had been stacked in precise piles. The countertops gleamed in the light. Not a speck of errant sand marred the tables or crunched under a boot. Mother used to complain of Father’s messy armoire, and would wonder out loud how he could keep his lab pristine, yet fail to hang up his clothes. His reply had always been one word. Contamination. He didn’t want any of his experiments being contaminated by spilled ingredients. It would throw off all his results, he claimed. Contamination also included children with sticky hands and dirty clothes, but his rules hadn’t stopped Tula and me from sneaking in here on occasion. I remembered the one time we hid under his desk, shaking in fear of being discovered, which inevitably happened. Our punishment had been to clean his lab for a season. After that season, we never ventured in here again. Father sat at his desk and gestured for us to sit in the two other chairs. “What’s so important?” Zitora explained about the Stormdance sand and fragile orbs. We placed the samples onto his desk. “You think one of these ingredients is bad?” my father asked, staring at me. “How did you come to this conclusion?” I told him about the old orbs and the differences I noticed. “The new orbs aren’t as sturdy. Same thickness, just not as dense.” I handed him a shard of Indra’s orb. He examined the glass and tapped it on his fingernails, listening to the clinking sound. “All right. I’ll work on these. See what I can find.” He sorted through his bowls. “Why don’t you go into the house? Mother will be thrilled to see you both.” I stood. “Can I help?” He looked at me in surprise. “It’s better if I do it myself.” He must have seen my disappointment, because he added, “Would you like to learn what I do here?” “Yes.” I had always wanted to know more about glass, but I knew he preferred to work alone. “Okay. When we have time, I’ll teach you.” “Really?” My turn to be surprised. He smiled. “I’ve been waiting for one of my children to show an interest. Ahir doesn’t have the patience and Mara … Mara is more interested in Leif than glass right now.” We shared a laugh. Even though Mara had been pursued by every young man in the Cowan lands, only Yelena’s brother, Leif, had caught her attention. But since he was a powerful magician and worked at the Keep, they hardly had any time together. I wondered if Aydan still needed an apprentice. Mara could move to the Citadel and live near the Keep. She would be closer to Leif. And to me. My humor leaked away. Back at the Keep, I knew no one missed me. My mother worked in the kitchen. The delightful smell of bread stew permeated the air. Following the scent, I found my mother stirring a large pot. She greeted me with a peck on the cheek. “Mara told me you were here. What took you so long? Your mother isn’t important enough to say hello to?” I rushed to apologize. “We had—” “Urgent business with Jaymes,” Zitora said. Before she could lay on the guilt about not introducing her, I said, “Master Cowan, this is my mother, Vyncenza.” My mother perked up at hearing Zitora’s title and launched into gracious host mode. “Opal, go get the good dishes from the cupboard and set the table. Use the fancy Jewelrose tablecloth, and make sure to put out enough silverware.” She clucked over my appearance. “Better get washed first and put on decent clothes!” She shooed me from the kitchen. Her offers of every liquid beverage to Zitora reached me as I ascended the stairs. My mother wouldn’t be happy until the magician was seated with a drink and snack in hand. The house had four bedrooms. Tula and I had shared a room. Only seven seasons apart in age, most who met us for the first time had thought we were twins. I entered the room. Tula’s grief flag hung suspended over her bed and I wondered how long Mother would keep it there. Zitora and Yelena had sewn the white silk banner. They decorated it with animal shapes surrounding a single blade of grass with a drop of dew hanging from the tip. Honeysuckles were sewn along the border of the flag. It was a representation of Tula’s life and personality. A customary endeavor, making a flag for the deceased and flying it from the highest pole, to release the person’s soul to the sky. Then the flag was used to cover the soul’s most precious possessions in order to keep them from returning to earth to retrieve them. After a few years, most people removed the flag and gifted the items. I had missed Tula’s flag-raising ceremony while a prisoner of Alea. Sitting on her bed, I ran my hand over the quilt. Last time I had seen my sister, she was in the Keep’s infirmary, recovering from being raped and tortured by Ferde Daviian. Alea—another one of those cursed Daviians—had promised Tula would live if I cooperated with her. Curling up on Tula’s bed, I shuddered as a fresh wave of grief crashed into me. Alea had taken me to the Daviian Plateau, pricked me with Curare and left me paralyzed and alone for hours in her tent. And then he came. No. I would not think about him. I concentrated on Tula. My ordeal was nothing compared to hers. When I had finally been freed, I learned Ferde strangled her to death and stole her soul. Two weeks gone before I even knew about it. Two weeks a captive for nothing. She died anyway. “Opal, are you done? The table won’t set itself,” my mother’s voice called. I wiped tears from my cheeks as I hurried to wash and change. My thoughts turned to Kade’s grief over his sister, and I remembered thinking about how time would dull his pain. Which was true, but I had forgotten about the occasional knife of grief that stabbed you without warning. I was mortified during most of dinner. Ahir and my mother were intent on telling embarrassing stories about me to Zitora. The Magician seemed to enjoy them and laughed, but I wanted to hide under the table. “… naked and soapy from a bath, Opal goes streaking toward the factory, intent on telling her father about her toy duck. Well …” Mother paused for maximum impact. “She crashes right into him and he spills a bowlful of sand on her head! I cleaned sand from every nook and cranny in her body. For months!” I cut through the peals of laughter. “Do you think I should check on Father? Won’t his dinner get cold?” “Leave your father alone for now. You know how he gets when he’s working in his lab. Dinner will keep.” I sighed. One avenue of escape thwarted. Before my mother could launch into another humiliating story, I asked Zitora about her family. Her humor faded. “I don’t remember my parents. My older sister raised me. We are ten years apart.” Mara made sympathetic noises. “Sisters are great. I wish I saw mine more often.” She gave me a pointed stare. Perhaps I would tell her about Aydan’s glass factory in the Citadel. “Sometimes I wish mine would get lost,” Ahir joked. “Mine is lost,” Zitora said in a quiet voice. “What do you mean?” Mother asked. “When the magicians came, they said I had strong magical powers and should be Keep trained. She escorted me to the Keep and left. I haven’t seen or heard from her since.” Gasps of horror ringed the table. Zitora shook her head through the barrage of questions from my mother and sister, and waved away Ahir’s apology. “I searched for years,” Zitora said. “Chased every possible lead, visited every infirmary in Sitia, and viewed every unidentified corpse. Either she doesn’t want to be found or she’s dead and buried.” The Magician said the words with a flat tone as if she could no longer produce any emotions about her sister’s fate. Or she had exhausted her emotions. “Why wouldn’t she want to be found?” Mother asked. “Perhaps she wanted to start a new life,” Mara said. She rose from her seat and cleared the table. “Perhaps someone is holding her against her will.” I suppressed a shudder; better to be dead and buried. “Perhaps she was jealous of me. I don’t know anymore. I’ve thought about it for the last ten years and nothing feels right.” Zitora stood. Her chair scraped along the floor with a loud squeal. “Here.” She grabbed the dirty plates from Mara. “I’ll wash.” Mother jumped from her seat with amazing speed. “Oh, no you don’t.” She hurried after Zitora, disappearing into the kitchen. Mara, Ahir and I looked at each other. “Who do you think will win?” Mara asked. “A Master Magician or Mother?” I considered. “If you could call washing dishes winning, I’d bet money on Mother.” “As much as it pains me to say this, I’d have to agree with Opal.” Ahir wrinkled his nose in mock distaste. Sure enough Zitora returned from the kitchen. “Your mother—” “A force of nature. We know,” Ahir said. “Come on, Mara, let’s go help her while Opal entertains her guest.” My father woke me in the middle of the night. The bright glow from his lantern seared my eyes. Already awake, Zitora sat on the edge of her bed—my bed, actually. I had slept in Tula’s bed under her flag. His words finally sank into my sleep-fogged mind. “… found the cause of the weak glass,” he said. “Come.” 9 I GRABBED MY cloak and hurried after my father. The sky glittered with stars and the half-moon cast a weak light over our compound. Father led Zitora and me to his lab. Torches blazed and crackled. The air smelled of camphor and honey. Bowls filled with sand and water rested on the countertops along with opened jars and spilled ingredients. It was the first time I’d seen his lab messy. “I had forgotten all about it,” he said, picking up a small porcelain bowl. “Hoped never to see the cursed substance again.” He thrust the container at Zitora. Confused, she handed it to me. The contents appeared to be lime. I grabbed a pinch, and rubbed the white substance between my fingertips. Lime. “Jaymes, what are you talking about?” she asked. “What’s wrong with the lime, Father?” He drew in a deep breath and settled into his chair. “Thirty years ago, well before the Commander’s takeover of Ixia, we used to import sand and other glass compounds from the north. There were a number of glass factories in Booruby back then—twice as many as today—and competition was fierce.” My father’s gaze was unfocused as he stared into the past. “I only had two kilns then, but my wares were different and I was new. Business boomed and I ordered another two kilns.” Zitora opened her mouth, but I placed my hand on her shoulder, warning her to keep quiet with a slight shake of my head. He would get to the point of his story eventually, interrupting or hurrying him would only prolong the tale. We sat in the other two chairs and listened. “Unfortunately my rivals took exception to my newfound success and plotted ways to discredit me. They started what’s now known as the Glass Wars. My factory was hit first. They contaminated my lime with Brittle Talc. It looks like lime, feels like lime, but if it gets into your molten mix, the talc affects the quality of your piece.” “Makes it less dense?” I asked. “Exactly. Drove me crazy, wondering why my glass broke so easily. Almost drove me out of business, too. Soon only a few glass factories remained. We suspected sabotage, but had no proof. I discovered the contaminant by accident. While shoveling my lime into bags to sell to the farmers because I was desperate for money, I spilled a bucket of water onto the pile. The lime turned purple.” “Purple?” Zitora asked. “Purple,” my father repeated. “The water reacted to the Brittle Talc, changing color. We didn’t know the name then, but when I made glass with lime that didn’t turn purple, it didn’t break. I was just happy to be back in business, but the other glassmakers who had been hit by the Brittle Talc decided to retaliate.” “The Glass Wars,” I said, remembering my father’s stories. “You never told us about the Brittle Talc before.” “I didn’t want you to know about it. Eventually, the man responsible for bringing the talc to Booruby was caught and the factory owners who started the whole mess were arrested. The factories that had survived the war in one piece signed an agreement to work together. Only a few of us knew about the talc and we promised to keep it quiet. There hasn’t been a problem—besides minor disagreements—since.” Father pulled the bowl from my hands and set it on his desk. “This is a sample of the lime you brought back from the Stormdance Clan.” He tipped a glass of water into it. The lime turned purple. “Could the talc get into the Stormdance lime by accident?” Zitora asked. “Nope.” “Who knows about Brittle Talc?” “Me, my brother and two other master glassmakers.” “Where does it come from?” I asked. My father shot me a proud smile even though my question didn’t show any great intelligence on my part. “Ixia.” Ixia. The northern country was named twice since I’ve been working with the Stormdancers. The old lady who sold me the glass vase at the Thunder Valley market also mentioned Ixia. “We have a trade treaty with Ixia. All goods sent over the border either way are supposed to be recorded. Perhaps we can find out who is exporting Brittle Talc to Sitia. What is it made from?” Zitora asked. “From the flowers of the Chudori plant. When dried, they can be crushed into a fine powder. The plant grows near the northern ice sheet and at the base of the Ixian Soul Mountains.” “In other words, in locations where no one lives.” Zitora frowned. “Where no one can witness the harvesting of the flowers.” He swirled the contents of the bowl. “What about the man who was caught for bringing Brittle Talc to Booruby?” I asked. “Was he from Ixia or Sitia? Did he mention anyone who helped him make the talc?” “Back then you could cross the border to Ixia without papers or permission. He had the pale coloring of a northerner. He claimed he worked alone, but he wouldn’t tell us anything more about himself or the talc.” “Is he still alive?” “No. He was killed in prison by a glassmaker’s son. The young man’s father killed himself when his business was destroyed and the son managed to get arrested and thrown into the same prison. No one in Booruby grieved.” We sat for a while in silence. I mulled over the information my father had given us. “Are any of the other glass ingredients from the Stormdancers tainted?” I asked. Father gestured to the array of bowls. “Not that I could find, but there is always a chance it could be a substance I haven’t seen before.” Zitora leaned closer to the desk. “How big of a chance?” I answered for him. “Tiny. He’s been working with glass for over thirty years.” “Opal, now don’t go making me sound so smart. But I will say the Brittle Talc is the only substance I found that affects the density of the glass. If there was another problem with the orbs, then I would tell the Stormdancers to buy all new ingredients for their glass.” But all they needed to buy was clean lime. “So the spiked lime was sabotaged. Who would do it?” No one spoke for a moment. I listed suspects in my mind, including the Stormdancers and the glassmakers. “Do you think the ambushers had anything to do with the tainted lime?” “It’s possible. They planned to stop us from helping the Stormdancers. I would like to know who told them we were coming,” Zitora said. “What’s next?” I asked her. “I’ll contact Kade and tell him to order clean lime. We can question the glassmakers who knew about Brittle Talc before we leave.” “I’ll talk to my brother,” my father said. “See if he heard anything.” While Zitora returned to the house to pack, I stayed and helped my father clean his lab. As he handed me bottles of chemicals to put away, he explained the purpose of each one. “When you add this white sand to the mix, it helps reduce seeds in your glass,” Father said. His comment reminded me about the vase I had bought at Thunder Valley. It had many seeds or bubbles. When we finished, I ran to the house to retrieve my vase and met him in the kitchen. “Missed dinner,” he said between bites. I unwrapped the package, hoping the glass was still in one piece. The vase had been well cushioned and survived being blown by Kade’s wind. My father held the piece up to the lantern light to examine it. The green bubbles refracted the light, casting splashes of color along the walls. “Interesting use of seeds.” “How does it feel?” I asked. “Light yet sturdy. Smooth. Well crafted.” He misunderstood my question. I searched for the right words. “Do you feel any popping or throbbing through your …?” My words died in my mouth. His bewilderment told me all I needed to know. “Throbbing? As in magic?” A glimmer of hope. Perhaps he did know. “Yes.” “No. I never felt anything from glass. It feels like a cold piece of crystal in my hands.” I masked my disappointment. “However, I recognize the craftsmanship and can tell you who made this.” “Who?” Perhaps another magician like me! “Ulrick, Cesca’s youngest son. Do you remember him?” “Vaguely. Didn’t you work with Cesca on a big project?” “Yep. I had an order for a hundred jars I couldn’t fill in time. She offered to help and we’ve worked together on a number of projects since then. In fact, she’s one of the glassmakers who was around during the Glass Wars and knows about the Brittle Talc.” The coincidence seemed too easy, but it made sense. Cesca reminded me of my father. She was dedicated to her craft; she experimented with different recipes and tried new methods of glassmaking. Her children probably learned from her. The only memory I have of Ulrick was his complete disregard for Ahir, Tula and me. He had followed Mara as if she held him on a leash. Zitora came into the kitchen, dragging her saddlebag. My mother followed, carrying my bags. “Mother,” I admonished, rushing to relieve her of the heavy burden. “You should be in bed. Dawn’s not for another hour.” “Who can sleep with all the ruckus?” she said. “Besides you’re not leaving my house without something hot in your stomachs.” She held a hand up. “I don’t want to hear it. Opal, stir the fire to life and heat up the teakettle. Jaymes, take Master Cowan’s bag and saddle the horses.” I laughed at Zitora’s chagrin as we hurried to complete our assigned tasks. “You might as well sit down and enjoy the attention,” I told her. “Next time you visit, you’ll be considered a member of the family and she’ll order you around, too.” A slight wistful tone crept into the Master Magician’s voice. “I would like that very much.” With stomachs full of Mother’s special sweet cakes, Zitora and I said our goodbyes to my family, and headed into the heart of Booruby. It was about an hour past dawn. The streets hummed with early-morning activity. Citizens bustled along the sidewalks as wagons rumbled over the cobblestones, making deliveries. “Wicent’s factory is down Morgan Street.” I pointed to the curl of gray smoke hanging above a stone building. “Where do you want to meet?” Wicent was the other glassmaker who knew about Brittle Talc. “The main road near the west side of Booruby. Stay in populated areas, Opal. We still don’t know where Blue Eyes is or why he wants you.” “I’ll be careful.” Zitora nodded and urged Sudi down Morgan Street. I stayed on the main road for a few blocks before turning left onto Glass Alley, so named for the numerous glass factories located here. I found Cesca’s factory. The largest on the block, her building housed ten kilns. A store to sell her wares occupied the front section of the factory. I tied Quartz to a hitching post and entered the crowded store. All the sales staff were busy, so I examined the goods. Plates and bowls with swirls of colored and clear glass lined the shelves along with matching wine goblets. Water pitchers and vases all had the same delicate twist of color. A few pieces showed the artistry of another hand, with thicker handles on the pitchers and heavy drops of color in the bowls. In the corner, a few of Ulrick’s pieces rested on a shelf. Covered with dust, the decanter and matching goblets were bumpy with bubbles. The glass resembled frozen sea foam. I stroked the decanter. Pulses of energy darted through my hand, numbing my fingers. “Can I help you?” a woman’s voice asked. I removed my hand and looked up. A saleswoman waited with a polite smile and bored eyes. “I need to speak with Cesca. It’s important.” “I’m sure you think it’s important.” The woman eyed my travel clothes and sighed. “She’s busy working.” She put her hand on my elbow and guided me toward the door. “Send her a message, perhaps she’ll agree to meet.” Before I knew it, I stood outside on the sidewalk. Quartz snorted in what sounded like amusement. I shot my horse a sour look. Peering through the window of the shop, I flinched. The rude saleswoman laughed with a customer. She pointed and everyone in the store turned to look at me. I moved from their sight. Not wanting to make a scene, I circled the building, searching for another entrance. The storage sheds were located behind the factory. Workers pushing wheelbarrows moved between the shed and main building. I followed a man with a load of soda ash into the heat and roar of the factory. A sense of urgent production radiated from the workers. Serious expressions and quick motions kept them absorbed in their tasks. I spotted a few women bent over their work, but none resembled Cesca. A hand touched my arm and I spun to deflect it, thinking about the rude saleswoman. A man stepped back with his hands out. I stopped and stared. The green in his eyes was so vivid it reminded me of lush grass lit by morning sunlight. Long black eyelashes outlined his eyes and matched his short dark hair. Even the smudges of dirt on his chiseled chin enhanced his features. “… doing here?” He shouted over the din. “I’m looking for Cesca. Do you know where she is?” He peered at me with distrust. I hadn’t realized Cesca was so famous. “Why do you want to see her?” “Tell her Jaymes’s daughter, Opal, wishes to see her about an important matter.” “Mara’s younger sister?” Interest flared in his gorgeous eyes. Every man in Booruby knew and worshipped my sister. He looked close to her age of twenty-two, which probably meant they went to school together. I suppressed my annoyance. “Yes. And the matter is rather urgent.” “Follow me.” He led me from the factory and into the cooler air. The man cut down an alley. I hesitated on entering the quiet narrow street, remembering Zitora’s orders to be careful. But I decided the need to talk to Cesca was more important. He stopped midway and knocked on a door, ushering me into a large storeroom filled with glasswares, crates and packing material. In the far corner an elderly woman sat behind an immense desk. Her thin skin clung to her face, revealing the contours of her skull beneath. “This had better be imperative, Ulrick, or I won’t let you near my kilns for a season.” Her voice barked surprisingly strong. I glanced at Ulrick with interest. He was the popping glassmaker. Unaware of my appraisal, Ulrick introduced me to his mother and retreated to the other side of the room to allow us more privacy. I explained to her about the Stormdancers orbs and the Brittle Talc. “Nasty,” she said. “That horrid stuff almost ruined me. How can I help?” I paused. Knowing I needed to choose my words with care, I gathered my thoughts. “Does anyone else know about the properties of Brittle Talc?” “Yes. My children all know. We still check every shipment of lime for the contaminant.” “And you have …?” “Five children, three boys and two girls. Two daughters-in-law, one son-in-law and six grandchildren.” She beamed with pride. “They all work here, except the grandchildren and my daughter Gressa—she’s in the Moon Clan’s lands. All have been trained to work with glass. They make wonderful pieces. Well … most do.” Cesca glanced at Ulrick. He sorted goblets, rolled them in cotton sheets and placed them into a wooden crate. His movements precise and efficient; the strong muscles in his arms and body apparent to me even though he wore plain gray overalls. Cesca’s family created eight more suspects. I wouldn’t have time to talk to them all. “Has anyone asked you about Brittle Talc?” “Besides my family?” “Yes.” “No.” “But someone within your family was interested?” The woman shot me a scathing look. “I hope you’re not implying one of my family members could be responsible for those brittle orbs.” I rushed to assure her. “Of course not. But they may have talked to a friend or colleague. We’re just trying to find out who knows about the substance.” “Ulrick had asked for more information about it. He wanted to use it. The boy likes to craft flawed pieces,” she said with a disdainful tone in her voice. “I told him if he ever brought Brittle Talc anywhere near Booruby, I would report him to the authorities. That is a criminal offence around here.” She pounded on her desk with a bony fist. “He never mentioned it again. Smart move.” Her pointed stare implied I should do the same. Time to retreat. “Thank you for your time. If you think of anything else about this matter, could you please tell my father?” She agreed, but, by her dismissive wave, I knew she wouldn’t pursue the subject. As I threaded through the crates, I spotted another one of Ulrick’s vases lying on the floor. I picked it up. The blue glass contained bubbles that had been stretched into long thin tubes. Marvelous. Tiny tremors rumbled in my fingers. “Here,” Ulrick said, holding out his hand. “I’ll put that away.” “Did you make it?” A guarded expression cloaked his emotions. “Yes.” “It’s fantastic.” He rocked back in surprise. I stifled a laugh, remembering when Yelena had shocked me by being able to see the inner glow in my glass animals. “But it’s unconventional. The seeds …” He shrugged. “The bubbles enhance the piece.” He gaped. I gave him the vase. When both of our hands touched the glass, it sang. A brief burst of surprised joy. If Ulrick heard the song, he didn’t give any indication. I decided to risk being ridiculed. “What I also like about this vase is its joyful tune.” Shock, fear and amazement flashed. He glanced at his mother, then grabbed my elbow, dragging me out to the alley. “You heard it … sing?” He hadn’t let go of my elbow. “Only when you and I both touched it. Otherwise I feel its song.” “Feel?” His fingers dug into my skin. I pried his hand off. “Yes. It pops when I touch it.” “But … but …” He yanked at his hair. “No one else can hear it. Or feel it. I don’t even know what it is.” “It’s magic. Another magician should be able to feel the vibrations.” Sudden recognition lit his eyes. “You’re the one who was invited to the Magician’s Keep! You’re the glass magician.” I flinched. He used the same title as Blue Eyes. He held up his vase. “Does this make me a magician?” Probably a One-Trick Wonder like me, but I wasn’t going to say it aloud. “I don’t know. I’m meeting with Master Cowan soon. Perhaps you should talk to her. Can you leave for a few hours?” Ulrick frowned at the door to the warehouse. “No one will miss me.” “Sorry I was rather abrupt earlier,” Ulrick said as we led Quartz through Booruby’s crowded avenues. “I didn’t recognize you. You’ve grown.” “So have you.” I glanced at him before focusing on the street. Quartz bumped my arm and I almost stumbled into him. “Watch it,” I muttered to her. “Excuse me?” “Not you. Quartz.” Ulrick scanned the horse. His eyebrows cocked into an appreciative arc. “She’s well-bred. Must be a Sandseed horse. I’m surprised there are any left.” The renegade Daviian Clan had decimated the Sandseed Clan, but a few members survived and started anew on the Avibian Plains. “Quartz is the first one to come to the Magician’s Keep in four years.” “And she was given to you. You must be a powerful magician.” “I’m not powerful.” I rushed to explain. “I helped a friend, who put in a good word for me about Quartz.” “Fortunate for you.” His mouth twisted into a bitter frown. “Fortunate that you were invited to the Keep in the first place. That you get to travel with a Master Magician.” He was quiet for a few paces. “I guess you don’t feel lucky. You seem so casual about it all.” “Would you rather I flaunt it?” “I would flaunt it.” But I didn’t earn my position and, even if I did, I wouldn’t take it for granted. At least, I hoped I wouldn’t. “A combination of tragic circumstances led to the discovery of my talent. You might have the same power.” “I’m too old. Even my mother has given up on me.” Anger laced his words. “You’re not too old. The Keep brought in Yelena Zaltana when she was twenty.” “Really?” “Yes. And Master Bloodgood mentioned searching for another … glass magician. Perhaps you’ll be one, too.” “Perhaps.” He didn’t sound happy about the prospect. I studied his strong profile. Eventually, he turned to me. “I’ve learned not to hope. When I made my first bubble vase, it sang with happiness. I was so proud of my creation until my mother dashed it to pieces in the cullet barrel. She claimed it was flawed and I should try again. Nothing I made suited her, while my younger sister, Gressa’s pieces thrilled her. Mother only let me display a vase in her shop to stop me from pestering her. She figured no one would purchase it, and its coating of dust would deter me from making more.” “But you’ve sold some. I bought one at the market in Thunder Valley.” “You did? Which one?” I stopped Quartz and rummaged through my saddlebags. “The design caught my eye, but the popping sealed the sale.” Holding up the little vase with its green bubbles, I smiled at Ulrick’s surprise. “You just need to find the right customers.” Tucking the vase back into my bag, I grabbed Quartz’s reins and headed west on Vine Street. The road emptied. Ulrick could now walk beside me without being jostled. “Nelinda said she could sell my pieces,” he said in amazement. “I didn’t believe her.” “Well, she claimed the glassmaker lives in Ixia.” He laughed. It was a rich sound, heavy and deep. “Never trust a saleswoman. I guess an Ixian glassmaker gives them a more exotic appeal.” “They would sell well in the Citadel’s market.” I thought about Aydan and his kilns. Perhaps Ulrick could work with Aydan and me while he studied at the Keep. Now I was hoping. I shook my head. After my last year of schooling, I would probably return to my parents’ factory. I should be concentrating on the problem at hand and not daydreaming about the future. My thoughts led to the Stormdancers’ orbs, and I remembered Cesca had said her children knew about the Brittle Talc. “Do you use any special ingredients for your pieces?” I asked Ulrick. “A few. I like to experiment with the mixture. I used vinegar once to see if I would get more bubbles in the glass.” His gaze held a faraway look as he grinned in amusement. “I did get bubbles. More than I could handle. The vinegar reacted with the lime as soon as I added it. I cleaned the mess for days and I was banned from the mixture room for a season.” “What other compounds have you tried?” He shot me a sly smile. “Fishing for information?” “Just curious.” “My mother taught me to never trust a fellow glassmaker. What do you really want to know?” I debated about what I should tell him. “Your mother mentioned you had an interest in Brittle Talc.” “So that’s why you came to see her. Has someone spiked your family’s lime?” “No. It’s regarding another matter.” He waited. The tight buildings of the city dwindled as we walked. A scattering of houses and factories trailed from Booruby like crumbs from a cookie. The acrid smells of the city faded into the moist aroma of manure and wood smoke. “Never trust a fellow glassmaker. You said so yourself,” I said. “You think I used Brittle Talc to taint another’s glass?” His voice rumbled low in warning. It was possible. Instead, I said, “No. I just wondered why you were interested in the substance.” He stopped. “It’s none of your business.” “But it is my business,” Zitora said from behind us. I jumped and Ulrick spun around. She sat on Sudi’s back with her sword in hand. “Who are you?” he demanded. “That was my question, considering you’re with my student.” I introduced the Master Magician to Ulrick. He had the good sense to relax his threatening stance, but he ruined any chance of getting on her good side with a comment about her youthful appearance. She scowled. “Sorry, Master Cowan.” He rushed to make amends. “You surprised me. I didn’t hear you behind us.” “You weren’t supposed to. Now answer Opal’s question about the Brittle Talc.” “No.” Zitora glanced at me, questioning. I knew she wanted me to name him as a suspect, then she could have Master Jewelrose delve deeper into his private thoughts. But the breach in privacy would cause more harm than good. The magic in his glass pieces might be beneficial to us and it wouldn’t help if he was resentful over the Master’s intrusion. “Is that why you brought me along?” Ulrick asked me. “To find out about Brittle Talc? Was all the talk about magic glass a ruse?” Anger pulsed from him. He was about six inches taller than me and he tried to intimidate me with his height. It might have worked if Zitora hadn’t been there. Hard to feel insecure with a Master-level magician on my side. I shouldn’t be worried, but here I was, even with sais hanging from my belt, relying on Zitora’s presence. “I was serious about the magic.” To prove my point, I removed his vase from my bags and handed it to Zitora. “Can you feel anything?” She sheathed her sword, and examined the delicate piece. “No. It feels like a regular glass vase. Although, I do like the swirl of bubbles.” She peered at the base. “What’s this?” Ulrick stepped closer. Zitora pointed to the bottom and he reached to steady the vase. When his fingers closed on the top, Zitora cried out and almost dropped it. “It … hummed,” she stammered. “What did it sound like?” I asked. “Contentment.” I pressed my fingertips to the vase in Ulrick’s hand. A pleasant rumble rolled through my palm. When I pulled it from his grip the song died, but the vibrations remained. I brought it to the Master Magician. She touched the glass with me. Nothing. No song. No rumble. It only sang with Ulrick’s touch. Zitora motioned for Ulrick to grab the vase. Her lips settled into a contemplative purse as they both held the glass. She let go and dug into her pack, uncovering her glass unicorn. “Ulrick, what do you see?” He stared at the animal, then shrugged. “A rather ugly creature.” “Anything special about it?” “No.” Zitora and I exchanged a glance. “Opal, you feel the magic without Ulrick’s touch. Right?” “Yes.” “We don’t have time or the resources right now to investigate further. Ulrick, would you be willing to travel to the Keep and let Masters Bloodgood and Jewelrose test you?” “Test me for magic?” “Yes.” He brightened with interest. “How will they know I’m coming?” “I’ll send a message. Although, if you want to wait until Opal and I return to the Keep, that’s fine.” “How long?” “About fourteen to twenty days.” “Where are you going?” “To finish our mission.” “Can I come with you?” “No. We only have two horses and we’re in a hurry. I already delayed here long enough.” Ulrick considered. “I’ll meet you at the Keep in fifteen days. That should give me enough time to tie up any loose ends.” My thoughts returned to Ulrick as Zitora and I raced back to the Stormdance lands. He knew about Brittle Talc. Perhaps he had told one of the Krystal Clan members who had ambushed us. Although, anyone in his family could have passed along the information. We would have to investigate after we finished helping the Stormdancers. Once again, Zitora set a hard pace, and soon my mind numbed with exhaustion. Thoughts reduced to the basic tasks of eating and staying in the saddle. By the morning of the seventh day, we reached the coast. My bruised and stiff muscles turned my dismount from Quartz into an awkward tumble. The thought of being able to stretch out on one of the Stormdance cots propelled my feet down the tight trail of The Cliffs. Kade met us at the halfway point. “The lime has been delivered. The kiln is ready to go. Indra has melted the ingredients.” He hustled us along, handing Quartz off to Raiden in the storm cave. There were a few new people in the cave, but I didn’t have time to meet them before Kade pulled me outside. “We need orbs. Now.” He pointed to the sea. “A deadly storm is coming.” “When?” “Tonight.” 10 I FOLLOWED KADE back up The Cliffs and to the kiln’s cave high above. The need to hurry had given me a jolt of energy, and banished my aches from the long ride. Along the horizon, greenish-black clouds, thick and menacing, blocked the sun’s rays. Only a dim light escaped, creating twilight in midmorning. The still air hung heavy with potential as if waiting for a signal to blow. The quiet caused my skin to tighten. No waves crashed against the rocky shore. The flat water resembled a sheet of glass. I stared at the sea, surprised by the conflicting images of an advancing storm over calm water. “The beast is sucking energy from the water,” Kade said. “Although far away, it’s moving fast. But no waves means the real danger will come when the center of the storm passes overhead. The winds will shift toward us, pushing all that seawater into The Cliffs.” Kade escorted me into the cave where the glassmakers waited. “Which means, I need to be out there before the center hits. And I’ll need orbs.” Sand and the other glass ingredients littered the floor of the cave. Indra sat at a gaffer’s bench and her two brothers, Varun and Nodin held blowpipes ready to gather slugs for their sister. “Come get me when they’re ready. I need to conserve my energy.” Kade left. “Did you test the new batch of lime?” I asked Varun. “No purple color and we already melted enough sand to make six orbs,” Varun said. “Our expert’s here,” Indra said with genuine pleasure. “Let’s get to work.” She ordered a slug and Nodin hurried to gather a molten ball of glass on the end of his blowpipe. He placed the pipe on the bench’s holders and passed tools to Indra as she shaped the slug into an orb. In the tight cave, I tried to stay out of their way. I checked the ingredients piled on the floor. The soda ash and sands looked free of contaminates, but without testing them in a lab, there would still remain a lingering feeling of doubt. After all, someone had tried to sabotage the orbs before. Indra made six orbs. Although they were similar in appearance and size, each orb held a distinctive shape. While they cooled, Nodin mixed more sand to melt and Varun regaled me with his adventures with the lime merchant. “… he couldn’t understand why we needed more lime, and he almost had heart failure when Kade dumped a bucket of water onto his stockpile.” Varun chuckled. “The merchant threatened to cut off our supplies until Kade created a swirling wind. Sand flew everywhere. And the look on the guy’s face when Kade speculated out loud about how much stock could be lost in a hard gale was comical. Our order was filled in record time.” “We almost lost the load over The Cliffs,” Nodin said. “Where did you find that old rope?” “Tal brought it up from the stables,” Varun said. “The boy probably didn’t take the time to check it over. If the rope had broken two seconds sooner, Tal would have been squashed on the beach.” Nodin slapped his palms together. “Better he’s killed by his own sloppy work, than someone else’s. I, for one, would not miss him.” “Indra!” Varun scowled at his sister. “That’s not nice.” “While you were getting the lime, he’s been driving everyone crazy with his whining and moping and pouting. And it’s gotten worse since the other Stormdancers arrived.” “Other Stormdancers?” I asked Indra, remembering the new people in the storm cave. “Raiden sent a message to them once Kade returned with the new lime. If these orbs work, they’ll be needed to help harvest the energy from the storms.” Sour nervousness turned in my stomach. If they work. Near midnight the orbs had cooled to room temperature. I inspected them in the lantern light. No flaws marred the surface and the glass felt solid in my hands. But there was only one way to test them for brittleness. I flung one to the cave’s floor. The orb broke into multiple pieces with a blood-chilling crack. It hadn’t shattered. A good sign. I examined the broken sections. “Better?” Nodin asked. He hovered over my shoulder. “Yes. Denser than the ones you made before.” “Strong enough to hold a storm?” “It better,” Raiden said from the entrance. “If we don’t bleed energy from the monster brewing out there, we’ll be sleeping with the fish tonight.” Raiden moved inside and Kade followed him, holding a torch. “How many did you make?” Raiden asked. Nodin glanced at the broken orb. “Five.” “Good enough. Kade can fill two and that will leave one each for Heli, Wick and Prin.” “No,” Kade said. Raiden frowned. “But we’ll need all the orbs filled.” “I’m going alone. If the orbs are flawed, then we’ll only lose one Stormdancer.” “Two orbs’ worth of energy won’t be enough to calm—” “I’ll bring all five with me.” “But—” “I’m not risking the others. Here.” Kade handed Raiden his torch. He pulled a netted bag from his pocket, and placed the orbs inside the sack. “You’d better get down to the storm cave before it hits.” He wrapped the handles of the bag over his shoulders. The weight of the orbs rested on his back. The glass spheres resembled oversize seashells. They appeared fragile and inadequate to handle the storm’s fury. Anxiety gnawed and chewed up my throat. “At least stay on the beach,” Raiden said. “With the amount of water being pushed toward us, you’d be ten feet under out on the rocks. You’ll waste your energy keeping the water away from you. And …” The older man looked as if he wanted to say more. “And if the orb kills me, you’ll be able to recover my body?” Kade finished Raiden’s sentence with a flippant tone. Raiden pressed his lips together. The Stormdancer sighed. “Sorry, Ray. But you always see the worst in a situation.” “Part of my job. Someone has to make sure you hotshots don’t get yourselves killed. If only Kaya had listened.” He rested a hand on Raiden’s shoulder. “You had a better chance of a storm listening to you than Kaya.” “When she was determined, that girl made a hurricane seem tame. I miss her.” “Me, too.” Kade headed out. “Kade, wait,” I said. He paused. “What if—” “Nothing I can do about it now.” He continued down to the beach. Raiden ushered me to the storm cave. He muttered under his breath about Kade’s actions. The glassmakers would stay with the kiln and keep the fire hot. Their cave was high enough that even a rogue wave would not reach them, and the entrance was protected from the wind. Once the second batch of sand melted, they would make more orbs. Out on the trail, the wind sucked at my body, tugging me toward the swirling mass of clouds. Flashes of lightning lit the sky, illuminating an agitated sea boiling under the tempest. With each flicker of light, waves jumped in size and advanced in leaps toward the shore. Once we ducked inside, the entrance to the storm cave was blocked with sheets of bamboo rods lashed together. They were anchored to the cave walls. “The curtains let the air in, and filter out the sea spray,” Raiden explained. “Bamboo is flexible so they won’t crack under the wind’s pressure.” He paused and sniffed the air. “Although this storm might tear them up. At least we have a few Stormdancers to keep the water out.” “How do you know what the storm will do?” I asked. A wide grin spread. “Experience. Years and years of being out here during the storm season. I’ve learned to look for certain signs—the air smells different for each type of gale and the Stormdancers will let me know what to expect. They’re connected to the storm’s consciousness, and they’re seldom wrong.” The fire and lanterns filled the large cavern with a warm yellow light. Exhausted from our travels, Zitora slept on a cot next to Sudi’s stall along the back wall. Tal pried open oyster shells over a cook pot. He scowled, but I couldn’t tell if his ire was aimed at the oysters or at the others sitting around the fire. Raiden introduced me to the three Stormdancers. Heli jumped to her feet and shook my hand with a big smile. With her skinny arms and short stature, she looked as if she was twelve years old, but she moved with confidence and grace. Wick grunted by way of a greeting. He hunched over the fire and complained of the cold, even though he wore a thick woolen sweater and sported a full beard. Prin matched my height and age. She appraised me with her silver-colored eyes, giving me a tepid smile. “The glass expert?” she asked Raiden. When he nodded, her attention returned to me. “Are the orbs ready?” “I think so,” I said. “Think?” She glanced at Raiden. “Kade has them.” “Should we go down to the beach?” “No. He doesn’t want to endanger you. He’ll fill the orbs.” “Can he do all five?” I asked. Raiden considered. “Probably at least four. His power has grown immensely since Kaya died. Four or even three should be enough to tame this typhoon.” “Unless the storm takes a turn for the worse,” Prin said. “Do you think it will?” Raiden asked with alarm. Prin peered past us as if scanning the wind. “It is unsettled. Angry and restless. It could blow harder—the sea is warm enough and with the cold air sinking down from The Flats, the potential is there.” “What happens if the storm intensifies?” I asked. “Four orbs will not be enough, and we will be needed to help evacuate you and the horses to higher ground.” Prin frowned. “What about Kade?” I clasped my hands together to keep them still. “It depends on where he is and how much energy he has,” Raiden said. “We can’t risk any Stormdancers. We’ve lost too many already.” His words reminded me of the brittle orbs. “How will you know if the new orbs work?” “The storm will tell us,” Prin snapped. Raiden joined Tal and helped with dinner as Prin returned to her seat by the fire. Heli had listened to our conversation and now she leaned close to me and whispered, “He won’t take the risk, but I will.” I smiled my relief. “Besides,” she said a little louder. “It won’t intensify. Those two see gloom and doom in every storm. Prin won’t be happy until she’s made everyone sick with worry.” “Everyone but you.” Heli’s green eyes glowed with amusement. “I love storms. The raw wild power gives me a charge.” “I’ll give you a charge,” Raiden called. “Go fetch Kade’s orb. If the storm gets worse, I don’t want the damn thing to break.” “Aye, aye, Captain.” Heli saluted and slipped through the bamboo curtains. “What happens if it breaks?” I asked. “It will release energy back into the storm. Not a good thing.” Raiden placed the pot in the fire. Sparks flew into the air. His comment reminded me of another question. “You said Kade’s power had grown since Kaya’s death. Is that typical for Stormdancers?” “Not really. As Stormdancers age, they do become stronger and better at harvesting the storm’s power. They learn by experience how much energy to expend on keeping calm around them. But Kade’s powers doubled when Kaya died. It’s unheard of and almost seems like her magic was transferred to him, which is impossible.” My thoughts lingered on the word impossible. Zitora had said nothing was impossible, and I believed her to a degree. But why wouldn’t Kade’s newfound strength be from Kaya? The Soulstealer, Ferde, had performed the Efe ritual to steal his victim’s magic. The Daviian Warpers used blood magic and the Kirakawa ritual to increase their powers. Did a magician really need these rituals and blood to capture another’s magic? Each method involved death. Perhaps Kaya’s death released her magical energy and it was absorbed by Kade, making the impossible possible. I wandered to the rear of the cavern to check on Quartz. She munched on grain, content despite the whistle of the wind. I stroked her long neck and fretted about what the horses would do when the full fury of the wind hit. Quartz cocked her right ear back. She rubbed my sleeve with her muzzle as if comforting me. I jumped when thunder cracked, and stepped closer to Quartz. Whenever a thunderstorm had raged over Booruby, my sisters and I would huddle together under the blankets of Mara’s bed and scare ourselves by telling silly ghost stories. I hugged Quartz. After helping Yelena to imprison those souls in glass, I had learned ghosts were real. Those old stories didn’t sound so silly now. Yelena had said ghosts were lost souls. Being a Soulfinder, she gathered them to her and guided them either to the sky or the fire world. Quartz huffed at me and I released her. Intelligence lit her brown eyes, and I wished I could communicate with her. Yelena also possessed the ability to mentally “talk” with horses. All I could do was trap magic in glass, which I couldn’t even use. Worthless. “Ow!” The side of my face stung where Quartz’s tail had flicked me. My horse snorted as if to say “snap out of it” before going back to eating her grain. Heli returned with Kade’s orb. The energy trapped inside pounded in my head with insistence. All the Stormdancers winced when Heli walked past the fire. I showed her the pile of blankets near the horse stalls, and we covered the sphere. The last of my energy faded as I sat with the others around the fire. They talked among themselves about past storms. After our late dinner of oyster stew, I arranged a cot near Quartz and fell into an exhausted sleep. Unfortunately, my oblivion didn’t last long. The keening of the wind and the roar of thunder kept intruding. The bamboo curtains clattered and waves pounded the shore. My head ached. Unable to return to sleep, I sat on my cot and looked around. Zitora, Raiden and Tal slept nearby. The Stormdancers dozed by the glowing embers of the fire. Heli sat cross-legged next to the bamboo curtains. Her arms were spread out to each side and her eyes were closed. When I stood, she opened her eyes and winked at me. “Just keeping the wind from snuffing our fire. I hate eating a cold breakfast.” “Is the storm almost over?” “No. It strengthened when it encountered the warm, shallow water, but slamming into The Cliffs knocked it off its stride.” She cocked her head to one side. “That and Kade’s efforts.” “The orbs worked?” Heli grinned. “We felt the first orb fill after you fell asleep.” The tight grip of anxiety released me and giddiness replaced it. I would have whooped out loud if everyone was awake. “Do Indra and her brothers know? We should tell them.” “We’ll have to wait until the storm passes. It’s too dangerous to be outside.” “Even for you?” “Yes. The safest way to dance is to be in position before the storm hits. It’s easier to hold calm air around you than to tame the winds and create a bubble of calm from the maelstrom. In that case, you use all your strength just to make a buffer around you, and you don’t have any left to harvest the storm’s energy.” “What about your efforts now? Are they draining?” “A little. All I’m doing is blocking the wind, keeping it from shredding the curtains. I’ll wake Wick when I’m tired. He hates to be cold and will sacrifice sleep to keep the fire hot.” She glanced with affection at the snoring Stormdancer. “His blanket fell off again. He’s just like a little kid.” Heli uncrossed her legs as if to stand. I stopped her. “Stay there. I’ll get it.” “Thanks.” She settled, squirmed into a comfortable position and closed her eyes. Part of Wick’s blanket was trapped underneath his body. Not wanting to wake him, I tiptoed to the back and grabbed another one, and uncovered Kade’s orb. The ache in my head flared into a painful jab. The stinging spikes rapped against my skull as if impatient for my attention. I was about to recover the sphere, but paused. I’m not sure what guided my actions—curiosity perhaps—but I dropped the blanket and laid both hands on the orb. An icy tingle permeated my fingers, turning them numb as the sensation ripped up my arms and encompassed my body. My world spun as if I was caught in a whirlpool. The muscles and bones in my body stretched. I thinned and lost all sense of being rigid. A force sucked at my feet as dizziness and nausea flushed through me. I squeezed my eyes shut. When the motion ceased, I opened my eyes. I stood in a round chamber. Purple, blue and silver swirled on the smooth walls. The glowing iridescent colors reminded me of soap bubbles. I wondered if I was inside one. Sand crunched under my boots when I walked over to the wall. The surface was glass. Past the translucent chamber, a storm raged. A wind blew from nowhere, sweeping the sand off the floor. The granules piled together forming the shape of a woman. I gaped at the perfect construction, unable to believe what I saw. I yelled when she grabbed my shoulders with her rough hands. “Opal, help Kade,” she said. Her voice grated. “He’s weakening. The monster has grown and only three orbs are filled. The storm will take him.” She seemed familiar to me. “Who are—” “Help him. Now!” 11 A ROUND OPENING appeared in the wall. The sand woman exploded into a whirling funnel. Pulled and spun by the strong currents, she disappeared, leaving me alone. Darkness loomed past the opening. A flash of lightning revealed wet rocks. Another flash lit a figure. He slumped against The Cliffs, head bowed. Rain and sea spray bombarded him. Kade. The storm’s energy pulsed around him. The weight of exhaustion hung on his body. He turned toward me. A brief flicker illuminated the pain in his eyes. The doorway moved. Dizziness blurred my vision. The air thickened as the storm’s essence filled my chamber—orb! I stood inside an orb. Logic rejected the conjecture because it was impossible, but my gut instinct had no problems accepting it. In fact, a part of me even knew I was in one of Kade’s orbs on the beach and not in the cave. The flow of energy slowed and eventually reversed. The sand woman had said Kade was weak and I had to help him. He couldn’t fill the orb. But I possessed no magical skills of use. If he needed a glass dolphin, I could oblige him. Otherwise he was out of luck. A wave crashed into Kade, knocking him down. My orb bobbed and spun, water gushed in. Just when I thought the orb would be sucked out to sea, Kade grabbed the lip. He tried again to funnel the storm’s power. He failed. Panic and fear flared. He would die. Trapped inside an orb, my thoughts raced, but kept coming back to the fact that glass surrounded me. What did I do with glass? Come on, Opal. Think! I drew in a deep breath and blew magic into the glass. Concentrating on the power in the air, I inhaled and exhaled. The orb filled with the storm’s misty extract. It pushed me up as if a life raft inflated under my feet. My emotions linked with Kade’s and his surprise matched my own. The opening rushed toward me. A black stopper brushed my shoulder and I flew into the open air. A cascade of images spun around me. My body light and as indistinct as a fog, I floated into Kade. “Opal?” He looked around. The sea beat at the beach, hammering against The Cliffs. The sand around his feet remained smooth; his bubble of calm restored, blocking the waves. Picking up the last orb, he drew power and I blew my strength into him, giving him all my energy to finish the job. “Opal … Opal … you … all right?” The words hissed in my ears. Heli’s nose hovered inches from mine. I sighed with relief, glad to be back in the cave even if I lay on the cold floor exhausted. “What happened?” “I’m not sure. You left to get a blanket and next time I looked you were on the ground.” She glanced at the pile of blankets. “I covered the orb. Raiden told us you can hear it. We really didn’t believe him, but, by your reaction, I’d say the orb’s cry overwhelmed you. They become really agitated during a storm. Although this monster stumbled when it hit land, and I think the danger is past.” Her explanation made sense. Better than believing I had been sucked inside the orb, had a conversation with a sand woman and assisted Kade with his work. When Heli helped me to stand, grains of sand rained to the floor. “Looks like you were on the beach,” Heli said with amusement. My legs wobbled. Heli’s grip on my arm tightened. “Perhaps you should lie down.” She guided me over to my cot and steadied me until I sat. “Do you want a glass of water?” I tried to say no, but my throat was raw. Swallowing, I choked on the taste of salt and sand. Heli strode over to the water pitcher. I glanced around, hoping I didn’t wake anyone. Zitora was up on her elbow, watching me. “Care to tell me what that was all about?” “That?” “Don’t play the simpleton. You know what I mean.” I knew. I liked Heli’s explanation, overcome by the orb’s song. Zitora wouldn’t be satisfied, though. “Can I tell you later?” It was an effort to talk and my eyes kept drifting shut. Besides, I needed time to figure it out. “All right, but …” I stopped listening and lay on my cot, falling asleep in a heartbeat. Light stabbed through my closed eyelids. I groaned and rolled over, blocking the annoyance. Eventually the sounds of people moving and talking with happy voices burrowed into my consciousness. A dry breeze fanned me. As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t go back to sleep. I pretended to be unconscious, needing time to go over last night’s odd series of events. What would appease the Master Magician? Should I tell her I was sucked into an orb by a woman made of sand? Questions swirled in my mind. Unfortunately no answers formed from my stew of thoughts. With reluctance, I peeked to see if anyone had noticed me. Kade slept on a cot next to mine. His tunic was stiff with dried seawater. Grains of sand clung to his chin. I reached out to smooth his hair, remembering our brief union, but jerked my hand back when he opened his eyes. He stared at me and I knew the sand woman’s name. When he frowned, it cemented my conviction. The sand woman was Kade’s sister, Kaya. How or why, I hadn’t a clue, but it explained why she looked so familiar. Before he could speak, Zitora walked between us. “You’re up. Good. Raiden and I would like to have a word with you and Kade.” Kade sat and looked around. “Where’s Raiden?” “Down on the beach, assessing damage.” We followed the Master Magician. Raiden directed Tal and Varun as they piled driftwood onto a wooden cart hitched to Sudi. When we drew closer, Tal muttered an oath. “Excuse me?” Kade asked. “Oh, sorry, I forgot to genuflect,” Tal said. “The hero’s here with his glassmaking sidekick. All hail the wonder that is Kade.” He bowed with mock reverence. “All right, Tal. I’ve had enough,” Raiden said. “You can stop with the wood. I’m sending you home. Tell Soshe to send another helper to take your place.” “Fine by me.” Tal flung his load to the ground. “There are far better uses for my talents.” He strode away. Raiden helped Varun finish loading. The glassmaker grabbed Sudi’s reins and led her up the path. He watched as they climbed the steep slope. “I should have Soshe send a horse, too. Usually by this point in the season, the orbs are made and we don’t need to haul supplies up to the kiln.” “Once Sudi is rested, we should return to the Keep,” Zitora said. “But first I want an explanation about last night.” She crossed her arms, waiting. Raiden squinted at Kade in confusion. “I thought you said everything went well. You brought back five filled orbs.” “I found out five is too many for me,” Kade said. His gaze sought mine. “I think I had help with the last two.” Everyone stared at me. I stammered for a moment, then told them a condensed version of my adventures inside the orb. I omitted the part about Kaya and about linking with Kade. “An interesting development, but it makes sense,” Zitora said almost to herself. “Opal can trap magic within glass and Kade uses magic to trap the storm’s energy. The two actions are similar. Do you ever use two Stormdancers to fill one orb?” “All the time,” Kade said. “Usually when we are training a new dancer.” “But both Stormdancers are together with the orb. We don’t have one in the cave and the other on the beach. I don’t think any dancer in our history could claim that skill.” Raiden shrugged. “It must be a talent of Opal’s. Either way, it worked out. We finally have orbs we can use and one safe Stormdancer. Now, if only the storm season lasts a little longer than usual, we can make up for lost time.” Raiden rubbed his hands in anticipation and hurried away to make lunch. “We can experiment more with your new skill at the Keep,” Zitora said to me. “Since the problem with the orbs is fixed, there’s no reason to stay.” She left to organize our supplies. But I wasn’t ready to leave. I had made friends with the glassmakers. They accepted me for who I was. The thought of returning to the Magician’s Keep and to the snide gossip of my fellow students formed a cold lump in my throat. And I was reluctant to leave Kade. He was the only person, besides Yelena, I had shared power with. I wanted to connect with him again, to feel the strength of a storm and to have control over the wind. Even though the power was vicarious, I still craved it. He watched the sea, lost in his own thoughts. I turned to go. “Opal?” I paused. “Why didn’t you tell them about Kaya?” “I thought she was a figment of my imagination.” “I thought she had come for me,” Kade said in a quiet voice. I moved closer to hear him. “I was happy to go with her. Fly to the sky. I wanted …” Kade shook his head. I knew what he desired. He wanted his sister. Missed her so much, he was willing to leave this world to be with her. “You wouldn’t understand.” I swallowed my reply. After a while, he huffed with amusement. “Imagine my surprise when you flew from the orb.” Sudden annoyance tinged with anger flared in my chest. “Of course you would be surprised.” The words erupted from my mouth of their own volition. “So wrapped up in your own problems, you can’t even see the people around you. You’re not the only person in this world to lose a sister.” I strode away. The emotions dissipated as fast as they had arrived. I regretted my outburst. Even I had been surprised by my ability with the orbs. Although, the more I thought about it, the logic became evident. It was just my one-trick power. Nothing new, except Kade’s involvement, which was similar to when Yelena linked with me to trap those souls. I had shared her emotions, too. Boots crunching on sand sounded behind me. A hand grabbed my elbow and spun me around. Kade. “I’m sorry. You were right.” He searched my face for a moment. “Go on.” A flash of teeth. “I am being selfish, and I shouldn’t have been surprised about your help last night. I should be grateful. You saved my life.” I dismissed the notion. “Kaya—” “Wasn’t the one that gave me her considerable strength.” “But she—” “Told you I was in trouble? But you didn’t have to exhaust yourself for my sake.” “Who wouldn’t?” He shook his head as if he pitied my naivet?. “You’re too young—” “Oh, for sand’s sake! I’m almost twenty. Probably only a few years younger than you.” Kade considered as I fumed. “My mistake. I should have known the Master Magicians wouldn’t send a first-year student. Plus you solved our problem.” “With the orbs?” “Yes.” “I didn’t solve it. My father did.” Before he could comment, I walked away. The crux of my worry revealed. My first mission for the Masters and I had run home to my father for help, wasting precious time. But Kade wouldn’t let me go off in a huff. He caught up to me and matched my stride as I ascended the trail toward the cave. “You wouldn’t be mistaken for a younger woman if you had a little more self-confidence.” I stopped and he almost bumped into me. “What do you mean?” “Examine your actions during the last two weeks. Is there another who could have done what you did?” “My—” “With both the glass orbs and with the magic?” I cast about for an answer, but as the delay grew longer, Kade became smugger. “You win. I’m the all-powerful glass magician. Happy now?” “No. More.” He waited. “More?” “Yes.” “The savior of the Stormdancers. The founder of long-distance communication.” I clamped my mouth shut on another boast—the creator of the glass prisons—mentioning them would ruin the mood. “Good. Now remember all those deeds the next time you’re presented with a problem. Knowing what you can do will help you feel confident enough to tackle the next storm.” “Storm?” I asked. “Sorry. I tend to compare everything to storms. People, life and problem solving.” I considered his philosophy. “What happens when you feel able to deal with a gale, yet, despite your best efforts, it still wreaks havoc?” “Clean up the pieces, rebuild and continue as best as you can.” The humor faded from his eyes. “Although a few things will be permanently destroyed.” That was the kicker. Some things were too precious to lose, and I was sure Kade referred to his sister. My thoughts turned to Tula. Was my sister completely gone? “You’re wrong,” I said. “How so?” “At first, it feels as if she has vanished forever, and all traces are destroyed. But later, when the pain of loss doesn’t overwhelm all your other feelings, every time you think of her, or hear her voice in your head, or remember a happy time together, you realize she’s still a part of you and will never be totally gone.” “Is this from experience?” Kade held himself tight as if afraid to move. “Unfortunately.” I told him about Tula, avoiding the horrible details of her death, but making it clear she had been taken from us. “Then this fire burning inside me will extinguish?” I assumed he referred to grief. “It’ll die down in time. After all, storms do fizzle.” A brief smile touched Kade’s lips. “Now you’re using weather analogies. If you hang around here any longer, you’ll be spouting storm lingo like a dancer.” I widened my eyes in mock horror. “Then I’d better go.” He laughed. And I marveled at the rich sound—a rare gem, considering all his sour looks and ill humor. “You better hurry then.” His laughter died, but his amusement remained. “Stay safe on your journey home. I won’t be there to blow away your attackers.” Kade grinned. “I must admit, knocking Blue Eyes over was the most fun I’ve had this season.” His shoulder brushed mine when he strode past. Energy sizzled down my arm, raising all the hairs as if the air around me was charged for a lightning strike. If Kade felt it, he showed no signs. He continued up the trail, bypassing the storm cave. I arrived at the cavern in time to see Tal swing his pack over his shoulder, almost knocking Indra over with the motion. “I’m ecstatic you’re leaving, Tal,” Indra said. “I think you’ll be much happier harvesting indigo and mucking out stables.” “I don’t really care what you think. You act like you’re so special. How special can you be when you needed little Opal’s help? She’s proven there’s no magic involved in your work. Anyone can make those orbs.” Tal spun on Raiden. “Deliver your own message to Soshe, old man. I no longer work for you.” Tal stomped out. I hurried to get out of his way. He never looked back. “Finally,” Indra said. She settled back in her chair between her brothers and next to the fire. Lines of weariness marked the three glassmakers’ faces. Varun stared at the entrance with his lips pursed in contemplation. Raiden sat cross-legged on the floor, repairing a fishing net. The other Stormdancers were absent. “Where are Heli and the others?” I asked Raiden. He gestured with a threaded needle. “Out searching for treasure. Big storms deposit all types of goodies on the beach. Heli has a huge collection of beautiful seashells.” He broke the black twine with his teeth. “I would suggest you join them, but it looks like your boss is getting ready to go.” I glanced toward the back of the cave. Zitora saddled Sudi. As I skirted the fire to go help her, Indra gestured to me. “The new orbs worked. Are we good to go?” Indra asked. “Yes. But you should keep watch over your ingredients until all the orbs are made. One of you should stay in the kiln’s cave at all times.” “Surely, you don’t think one of our clan members sabotaged the lime?” Nodin asked. “There’s no evidence to suggest it. But, then again, there’s no evidence to disprove it, either. Tal—” “Would never jeopardize a Stormdancer’s life,” Raiden said. “He’s upset and disappointed, but I’ve known the boy since he was little. He’s all bluster.” “He’s no longer a little boy, and all he ever wanted to be was a Stormdancer. Opal made a valid point. Who wants to take the first shift?” Indra asked her brothers. Varun volunteered. “Stop by and say goodbye on your way home.” He left in a hurry. I finally joined Zitora by the horse stalls. She had finished saddling Sudi. The contents of her bags littered the floor. “We don’t have much food. We’ll stop at the market after we talk to the officials in Thunder Valley. I hope they have more information on Blue Eyes.” She organized our remaining provisions and packed them as I hurried to prepare Quartz for the journey. The Stormdancers returned from their scavenging in time for us to say farewell. Heli gave me a shiny pink-and-white shell. The almost-flat fan shape was ridged and there was a tiny hole near the top. “It’s a scallop’s shell. You can string in on a necklace and wear it if you want,” Heli said. “Don’t you want to keep it for your collection?” “It’s for you. A small token of my thanks for helping with the orbs.” I clamped down on my desire to contradict her, remembering Kade’s words. My legs felt as if they were full of sand as we trudged up the trail to The Flats. I tried to convince myself my reluctance to leave was due to a dread over spending the night out in the open and sleeping on the uncomfortable ground. And not due to missing the company of a certain Stormdancer. We arrived at Thunder Valley the next afternoon. Tired and sore from a night of restless sleep, I followed Zitora into the town’s administration building. Even through my fog of fatigue, I noted the elaborate candelabra on the mantel in the lobby. The candleholder’s teardrop pattern made with red crystal was a trademark of my uncle’s. I remembered how proud and excited he had been when he was asked to make the piece. It was an honor to be chosen to decorate a government building. Zitora led me into the security offices located in the west wing of the first floor. She warned me that since the escape of the ambushers the local guards were outright hostile to anyone with magic abilities. We entered an open common area strewn with desks. Guards either worked at their desks or stood in groups. Our arrival caused a bit of a stir and one man approached us. “Can I help you?” he asked Zitora. “Yes. Is Captain Loris in his office?” “No. He’s on patrol. I’m Lieutenant Coll. Perhaps I can help you …” “Master Cowan.” He jerked and stared at me. Three other guards moved closer and spread between us and the door. Everyone’s attention pressed on my skin. “When will the Captain be back?” Zitora asked. But the Lieutenant ignored her question. He kept his focus on me. “Is she traveling with you, Master Cowan?” “Why do you want to know?” The firm authority in her voice caused the man to switch his attention back to her. “I apologize, Master Cowan, but I need to know her identity.” “Why?” The question was weighted. I recognized the signs. If the man had any intelligence or any sensitivity to magic, he would rush to answer her question before she forced it from him with her magic. “She matches the description of a wanted criminal.” Zitora’s posture relaxed a bit. “She’s not a criminal. Her name is Opal Cowan. She’s an apprentice at the Magician’s Keep.” Coll nodded to the men behind us. I thought they would return to their desks. Instead, two of them grabbed my arms. “Hey,” I said. “Explain, now,” Zitora ordered Lieutenant Coll. “Opal Cowan is under arrest.” 12 “WHAT’S THE CHARGE?” Zitora demanded. Silence filled the entire room. All of the officers in the security department’s common area watched us. My two guards kept a firm hold on my arms. The third man searched me for weapons, removing my sais. Twelve armed men against one Master Magician. Her power was considerable and she had disarmed four, including two magicians. But twelve? The odds weren’t in our favor. “Robbery,” Lieutenant Coll said. “After your visit sixteen days ago, a woman reported a young girl named Opal stole a glass vase from her market stand.” “I bought it for seven silvers,” I said. “The stand owner said you returned later and snatched a second vase. The woman has two witnesses.” One of the guards handed Zitora a sheet of parchment. “Here’s her arrest warrant, Master Cowan.” She frowned at the warrant. I craned my neck but couldn’t read the neat printing. Lieutenant Coll recited a statement about my arrest and rights. His words wouldn’t take root in my stunned brain, until he said, “Escort her downstairs. Cell three.” No one moved. I looked at Zitora. “I didn’t steal anything.” “I know. It’s an obvious misunderstanding. Release her into my custody, Lieutenant, and we’ll settle this matter.” “I’m not authorized. You’ll have to submit a request to Captain Loris.” “As Second Magician of Sitia, I have the authority. Release her.” Coll blanched, and his right hand hovered near the hilt of his sword. But he pulled it together. “I’m sorry, but I can’t unless I receive an order from my direct supervisor.” I hated to admit I was impressed by the Lieutenant, standing his ground when faced with an angry Master Magician. The tension in the room increased. If Zitora tried forcing Coll to release me, the officers would have to decide who to support. From the array of determined stances, I guessed they would help Coll. With a huff of annoyance, Zitora relaxed. “Opal, don’t worry about anything. I’ll have you out before dinner.” “But—” The two guards holding my arms pulled me from the room, cutting off my protest. In no time, I was led down a flight of steps, through a massive metal door, along a drafty corridor lined with cells on both sides and pushed into a small room. The door closed with a clang, raising goose bumps on my flesh and the loud rasp of the lock hit me like a punch to my stomach. I marveled at how fast my life had changed. One moment making a stop for food and supplies, the next locked in a prison. Should the turn in events surprise me? If I reviewed my history, I could list many other upsets. But would the anticipation of ambushes and kidnappings make life easier? Probably the opposite—constant paranoia would be a strain. Caution mixed with the quick ability to adapt and respond would be a good combination. If only I possessed those qualities. None of my thoughts helped me with my current predicament, but I had faith in Zitora and in the knowledge of my innocence. At least the cell appeared to be clean. Iron bars formed the wall and door facing the hallway, and the rest of the room was constructed with stone. Weak sunlight shone through a small rectangular-shaped window located high on the back wall. Thin bars striped the opening. A narrow bed was anchored to the floor. A thin straw-filled mattress rested on top of it. If I stood on the end of the bed, I could see outside. I peered out, but the limited view of an empty alley didn’t provide any entertainment. I sat cross-legged on the mattress. This wasn’t so bad. No odors. The slop pot was clean, and tucked behind a short privacy screen bolted to the wall. No sign of rats. I wouldn’t be here long. This was bearable. I tried to convince myself this was just an inconvenience despite the tightness ringing my chest. Despite the desire to pace the cell and yell for the guards to let me out. Or should I scream for them? Those doors to the prison were rather thick. Airtight. Spots swirled in my vision. A crushing weight pressed on my lungs. Drawing in a couple of deep breaths helped relieve the tension. This was tolerable. Much better than being confined in a stuffy tent, unable to move. Memories of my two-week ordeal with Alea flooded my mind. Almost five years ago, but I still could recall the long periods of boredom, lying there on the floor all day with my muscles paralyzed. Alea had always arrived at sunset and before the Curare’s effects had completely faded. Once the drug wore off, feeling returned to my body. The first few nights, she gave me food and water, and let me stretch my legs. She pricked me with a thorn dipped in Curare when she left in the evening, robbing me of movement again. I was lulled into a sense of routine. My fears weakened each day, and I looked forward to her arrival. It didn’t last long. On the fourth night she brought a man with her. He wore a red mask and dark glasses. Alea didn’t bother to introduce us. She said to me, “He will be in charge of you until the night of the exchange.” She turned to him. “The girl must listen to our instructions. Make sure she knows exactly what will happen to her if she disobeys.” He nodded. “Good. Meet me at Blood Rock on the night of the full moon. Bring her with you.” Alea left the tent. The fabric flap snapped shut with an ominous slap as if she wiped her hands of me. Finally able to move, I sat. He reached for me. The crash of a door and strident voices interrupted my morbid reverie—thank fate. I recognized Zitora’s voice. “… to talk to her, Captain. You can’t deny me entry.” A man’s voice replied. “I’m not denying you, I just want you to wait until we can conduct a proper interrogation.” The word interrogation sent a cold jolt of fear through me. I moved closer to the bars, waiting for my visitors. Zitora strode into view first. She had pulled her long honey-colored hair into a severe bun. Her annoyed demeanor radiating an impressive authority. If she had packed her magician’s robes, I bet she would have worn them to add to her strong presence. An older man wearing a navy uniform followed her. Two gold bars glinted from the collar of his shirt and his belt bulged with weapons. He scowled at me. “Can I go now?” I asked, trying and failing to keep the hope from my voice. “Not yet. Opal, what’s this?” Zitora held up a glass vase. Made to hold a single flower, it was long and thin. Small bubbles decorated the rim and base of the vase. I hesitated. Everyone knew what it was. What did Zitora really want me to say? I stuck my hand through the bars. “Can I see it?” “No,” the Captain said. Zitora gave me the vase. The Captain muttered, but stopped when the Master Magician shot him a look. The glass popped with magic. “This is one of Ulrick’s pieces. Did you purchase it from the woman in the market?” “No. Captain Loris found it in your saddlebags. It’s the stolen vase. Care to explain?” I stared at her until full comprehension of her words managed to bypass my surprise. “My saddlebags? Are you sure?” “I witnessed the search.” She kept her tone neutral. “It wasn’t there when we left the Stormdancers. Someone must have planted it in my bag.” I put my arms out to the side. “Go ahead. Scan my mind.” “She’s telling the truth,” Zitora reported to the Captain. “No offense, Master Cowan, but you’re biased. She’s your student and traveling companion. You’re young—” “Captain.” She growled with frustration. Her hands bunched into fists; her body poised to punch the man. But she paused, and made a visible effort to relax. Her arms dropped down and she laced her fingers together. “Fine. Summon another magician. One who can sense the truth.” “Now you’re thinking. I’ll send a message. The magician should be here in two days.” “Two days!” My cry echoed in the stone cell. “This isn’t the Citadel. Thunder Valley is a small town. We only have a healer. And we’re lucky to have him.” The Captain peered at me with suspicion. “I believe you met him. He cleaned up your sword cuts.” “I already explained about the man who attacked Opal,” Zitora said. “The magician you didn’t warn us about? Who escaped from our prison? You’re saying he stayed in the area, risking capture just so he could attack Opal?” “And Stormdancer Kade,” I said. “So you say.” Zitora leveled a dangerous stare at the Captain. “Are you calling me a liar?” The Captain refused to back down. “No. But magic is involved with this situation, which makes all memories, information and people suspect.” He was either brave, intelligent or ignorant of the amount of power Zitora could wield with ease. Probably a combination of all three. But at least he agreed to let us have a private conversation, moving away from us. “I’m sorry, Opal. I have to go through the channels and make nice with the local authorities. They have hard evidence against you—I know.” She held up a hand, stopping my denial. “The Captain’s right, there is magic in play, and I intend to get to the bottom of this misunderstanding.” “Could one of the other Masters help you with your investigation?” Zitora smiled ruefully. “I contacted Irys. She told me—with malicious glee I’m sure—that I’m to resolve this situation on my own. Seems she thinks this a good opportunity for me to practice my diplomacy.” I glanced around the darkening cell. Even though I was upset and disappointed, I tried to make the best of it. I didn’t have a choice, but no sense upsetting Zitora. “I have complete confidence in you. And two days is nothing.” My bravado lasted until she left. I huddled on my cot, wrapped in my cloak, hoping a guard would light the lanterns in the corridor. Zitora had brought me a few comfort items from my saddlebags. I hadn’t even noticed the bundle when she first arrived. Either that or I had noticed, but denied its implication. Two days. Two days wasn’t so bad. The kilns reached the perfect temperature in two days. My brother would finally apologize to me two days after hurting my feelings. Mother roasted her succulent pork for two days before she would let us eat the juicy meat. Two days was … two days of being a suspected criminal, locked in a drafty cell. I fell asleep on the cot, waking only to the sound of a metal tray being slid under the door. Dinner. I gnawed on the stale bread, drank the tepid water and ate all of the thick soup. The lanterns had been lit. Shadows, thin and black, vibrated on the stone wall opposite my cot. Shutters outside my window had been closed and bolted. With nothing else to do, I watched the flames dance inside the glass lanterns until the guard extinguished them, leaving me in darkness. I tried to sleep, hoping to spend as much time as possible in the oblivion of my dreams. A click of a bolt and a gush of cold air woke me. Crouched next to my window was a figure. The person gestured. I stood on the bed for a better look. Zitora sawed through one of the bars with a thin metal thread. The cord glittered in the pale moonlight. I figured she was a dream, until the unmistakable high-pitched rubbing sound of the diamond string reached me. With a pop, Zitora moved to the bottom of the bar. “Watch for guards,” she said. I hopped to the floor and positioned myself near the cell’s door, keeping alert for any signs. After enduring the nerve-racking, blood-numbing slide of the diamond string for an hour, I marveled that the guards, let alone the entire town hadn’t come over to investigate. “Let’s go,” Zitora said. “But—” She shushed me. “Later. Pass me your cloak.” I did as ordered. “Give me your hand.” Surprisingly strong, Zitora helped me through the narrow opening. Once I stood in the alley, she handed me my cloak and a rucksack. “Put these on and follow me.” She slung a bag over her shoulder. I tied the garment under my chin, glad of the warmth. The heavy pack dragged on my shoulders, and liquid sloshed inside. Probably water skins, but I wondered where our original packs were. “I thought you were playing nice with the locals.” “Changed my mind.” We ghosted through the sleeping town, staying in the shadows as much as possible. The half-moon’s position in the sky indicated four hours remained until dawn. I asked Zitora about the horses, when we headed out of town. “Too hard to hide,” she said. I puzzled over her reply. With her magic, surely hiding two horses wouldn’t be any trouble. We continued on the road, traveling north toward the Krystal Clan lands. The indigo plantations thinned, replaced with a smattering of pine forests. I tried to question Zitora on why she rescued me and where we were going, but only received clipped and vague answers. When dawn brightened the eastern sky, we encountered a few fellow travelers on the road. Zitora turned into one of the clusters of pine trees. Pushing my way through the fragrant branches, I tried to keep up with her. “Why are we in here?” I asked. “Too many people. We’ll hide until dark.” We reached a sandy clearing. “Breakfast.” Zitora dropped her bag and rummaged through the contents. I joined her in the open area and sat on the ground with relief. My legs ached from the hours of walking. Fire burned from my blistered shoulders. We split a few hunks of cheese and an apple. During the meal, Zitora kept glancing into the surrounding forest as if expecting someone to burst from the trees. “Do you sense something?” I asked. “No.” I studied her. Her emotions were hard to decipher. Each interaction with Zitora seemed off. She acted distant and our student-teacher relationship was gone. Now she gave orders without explanation. Perhaps she was angry with me for causing so much trouble. The sun cleared the treetops, warming the clearing. Tired from our flight, I considered napping. Zitora stood and wiped the sand from her clothes. “I’ll check the surrounding area.” Confused about why she wouldn’t just use her magic, I stared at her back. When she strode out of sight, I caught a glimpse of her shadow. My heart locked. The black shape following her heels was not Zitora’s shadow. It was the shadow of a man with a sword hanging from his belt. 13 MY FIRST IMPULSE was to deny what my eyes had seen. In the quick glance I had of Zitora’s shadow, I couldn’t have discerned a man’s shape or a sword. Could I? But it made perfect sense. Zitora had acted strange since freeing me last night. Even the rescue was out of character. She had been determined to prove me innocent. I cursed myself for my incredible stupidity. If I was killed, it would be a good thing, preventing my idiocy from being passed on to my children. My self-recriminations wouldn’t help me now, so I ceased them and concentrated on what to do next. Who was the shadow man? Blue Eyes? He wanted me for an unknown reason—unknown to me. Disguising himself as Zitora and tricking me into going with him was plausible. As a magician, he possessed the skill. Scanning the surrounding pine trees, I searched for signs of his return. What should I do? Run? Hide? Yell for help? All three? In order or in a different order? My thoughts spun in place, failing to produce an answer. Gut instinct urged me to run. Logic argued for hiding, but I dismissed the idea, knowing he would find me with his magic. We were away from the road, doubtful anyone would hear me if I screamed. Another option presented itself, and every inch of me wanted to reject the notion. I could play along and find out what he wanted. That was the logical plan. Taking in a few lungfuls of air, I settled my spinning thoughts. If I intended to pretend everything was normal, I needed to act calm. Of course, as soon as he returned, a wedge of fear lodged under my heart. I hoped the terror hadn’t spread to my face. Concentrating on Zitora’s image, I tried to ignore the mismatched shadow and pretended the Master Magician was with me. “Find anyone?” I asked. “No, but there’s a trail through the forest. Let’s go.” I regained my feet and brushed the sand off my pants. “Where are we going?” “North to the Krystal Clan lands.” “Then back to the Citadel and the Keep?” “Eventually.” He wouldn’t meet my gaze. “Let’s go.” Blue Eyes led the way through the pine trees. Thick branches whacked me in the chest, but soon we broke through the dense cluster and traveled along a thin path. Conversation was kept to a bare minimum just as before. This time, though, I was glad for the quiet. We stopped for a quick lunch. Fatigue dogged my steps and I lagged behind. Eventually, he decided to find a spot to sleep. Worried about what the imposter would do while I slept, I fought to stay awake. I tried to think of a few questions to ferret out information about our destination or about his plans, but my overworked mind refused. Sleep won. My round house of glass shook. It rocked in the wind and threatened to break. Cracks appeared, carving a spiderweb pattern along the smooth walls. “Opal, wake up.” A man’s voice hissed in my ear. My glass world shattered. I jerked awake before the jagged shards could pierce my heart. Yanking me to my feet, the Zitora impersonator said, “We need to go.” The cold night air, the quick pace and the knowledge of who I traveled with blasted the tired fog from my mind. I kept an eye out for any sign of our destination, but we pushed through thick stands of pines and crossed empty stretches of black-streaked sandy soil. By morning, I knew we had crossed into Krystal lands. Glints of quartz sparked from the white sand. The open areas widened. Stone and sand quarries dotted the horizon. I searched the surrounding area for people or houses, but found none. We had traveled far from the main roads. Panic simmered below my ribs. Once he revealed his true identity, I would no longer have the upper hand. Unfortunately, I wasn’t smart enough to use my advantage. My mind couldn’t produce a plan. Even if I had my sais, I knew Blue Eyes’ skill with the sword would reduce me to a bloody mess. I hoped we would see a few Krystal Clan members so I could enlist help. After traveling all day, we rested for a few hours before setting out again. We encountered no one. When I finally spotted a wooden barn-shaped building the next morning, hope bloomed. No animals roamed, and the renovations to the structure implied its new use could be a house or workshop. Smoke billowing from the large stone chimney meant at least one person was inside. In fact, four people waited within. I recognized three of their faces. They stood among glassmaking machinery. The warm, kiln-humming comfort contrasted with the cold, heart-drumming fear of understanding. A moment of disorientation swept over me. Tal leaned on a post in the center of the room. His smirk matched the superior cock of his hips. The two others were the ambushers. I expected the leader to start cackling as he had on the day they had tried to stop Zitora and me from reaching the Stormdancers. The woman magician seemed pleased with my reaction. The man sitting on the glassmaker’s bench was unfamiliar to me. I glanced at the Zitora imposter, expecting to see Blue Eyes with a smug smile. But it wasn’t him. Standing next to me was the other magician. “I love a surprise. Don’t you?” he asked, pulling the backpack from my shoulders. “And I love it when a plan is executed without trouble,” the leader said. He hustled over and linked his arm around mine. “Come in, come in.” Pulling me away from the door and from any chance of escape, he made a swooping gesture with his free arm. “We’ve been waiting for you.” My advantage was at an end. “Let me give you a tour,” the leader said. With his arm still tight around mine, he showed me the kiln, the glory hole and all the other equipment needed to make glass. Bowls, vases and a few glass balls littered the work space. My mind registered the information, but couldn’t produce any intelligent thoughts beyond my terror. The leader escorted me through a door behind the kiln and brought me into a long thin room studded with bunks. “Our sleeping quarters, but look!” He opened a door at the back. “Your own room.” A single cot had been wedged into the narrow space. No windows and the formidable door locks were on the outside. He pointed at my cloak. “Why don’t you leave that here for now.” He released my arm long enough for me to toss the garment on the bed. Reclaiming my elbow, he walked me to the opposite side of their quarters and through another door, entering into a kitchen with a table and chairs. The place also had a couch along the side wall. He whisked me back to the main room. The others looked at me as if expecting me to say or do something. “Who—” “I’ve forgotten my manners.” The leader tsked. “Let me introduce you. My name is Sir.” He pointed to the man who had led me here. “His name is Tricky. She’s Crafty. Our glassmaker’s name is Ash.” The ambushers all shared grins with each other, and I knew their names were pseudonyms. Sir gestured to Tal. “I believe you already met him.” I studied Tal. He was obviously in league with these people. Logic followed and I guessed he had been the one to sabotage the lime with Brittle Talc. “I know him,” I said. “His name is Traitor.” Tal purpled with rage. He moved toward me with the intent to harm clear in his body language. Tricky blocked his path. Tall and muscular, the magician was the strongest-looking person of the group. I marveled at his skill in convincing me he was the diminutive Zitora. Even criminals possessed more magic than I did. Wonderful. “After. Wait until after,” the magician told Tal. His ominous comment reminded me there was no sense in lamenting over my deficiencies when my situation was … well, I wasn’t quite sure. Perhaps I should draw out the “pleasantries,” and give the real Zitora more time to reach me. She had to be searching for me. I hoped. I would even welcome the arrival of Captain Loris and Lieutenant Coll. “Where is your other companion? The magician with the blue eyes?” I asked. Sir frowned. “Devlen was hired for his skills with the sword. We expected you and your magician friend to have a cadre of soldiers with you.” Sir paused. Blue Eyes’ name was Devlen. Which clan did he belong to? Before I could ask, Sir continued. “Devlen surprised us when he used his magic. I haven’t seen him since we escaped.” A murderous glint flared in Sir’s eyes. “That was a disaster. But the plan is coming together now. Much nicer than the original.” Finally, my frozen thoughts thawed as the shock dissipated, allowing fear to flow into the empty places. What part of the plan was I in? “Why—” “Are you here? I’d thought you’d never ask.” Sir’s cackle increased my unease. He was enjoying himself. “You’re going to help us make orbs.” “And if I don’t?” I dreaded the answer. “You will.” Sir’s voice held confidence. “Do you want the painful details? Or vague threats? Or perhaps you would rather be surprised?” His grip on my arm tightened. I should have run. When I had discovered the trick about Zitora, I should have bolted. Wrong decision. Again. I should have known better. But there was no comfort in should-haves. None. I asked another question instead of answering Sir. “Why do you want to make orbs?” “That’s not your concern,” Sir said. “Why do you need me? You have Tal and Ash; surely they know how to make the orbs.” “We need you to mix the sand. The Stormdance glassmakers keep the percentages of the sand ingredients a secret. Job security, I suppose.” Sir shrugged. “I don’t know the percentages.” Sir released my arm and spun, slamming his fist into my solar plexus. I doubled over as the air in my lungs exploded from my mouth. Pain radiated. I knelt on one knee, keeping my bent position and tried not to gasp for air. Unfortunately, I had experienced this sensation before when sparring with my sais at the Keep. When I could breathe without pain, I straightened. “Don’t lie to me,” Sir said. “I overheard Varun telling his brother you figured out the recipe of their precious sand,” Tal said. Sir accepted my silence as agreement to Tal’s statement. I had estimated the percentages, but Varun hadn’t said how close I had been to the actual numbers. Even a small difference in the mix could affect the quality of the orb. I wasn’t about to tell Sir. He might decide my usefulness was over. Tricky’s comment about “after” was a more powerful threat than Sir’s sucker punch. “Now that the introductions are over, why don’t we get started?” Sir grabbed my wrist and led me over to a line of four barrels. While Tal pried the lids off, Ash brought an array of bowls and a spade. “Tell Ash what the proper percentages are,” Sir instructed. Secret recipes were secret for a reason. My father had taught us never to divulge his special recipes. They were our pride and our livelihood. What Sir wanted went against twenty years of habit. “No.” Without warning, Tricky slapped me. The force sent me reeling back as pain stung my cheek. Sir pulled me forward. Tricky kicked me in the chest. This time Sir let me fall. My impact with the floor was a mere nuisance compared to the sharp pains emanating from my ribs. Each time I gasped for breath, fire flared. Tricky placed his right boot on my throat and leaned, closing my windpipe. Panic overrode all other emotions and I clawed at his leg. “Enough,” Sir said. The pressure lifted and I gulped in lungfuls of air. “What are the percentages?” When I regained my composure enough to sit up, I said, “One hundred percent sand.” “Magic this time, Tricky. Be creative.” A half smile quirked before the amusement in his eyes died, replaced by an icy gleam. I scooted away from him; hoping distance would lessen the magical attack. A black beetle, the size of a thumbprint crawled over my knuckles. I yanked my hand from the floor when I spotted a couple more beetles scurrying toward me. A light tread ran down my pants. Four more of the bugs crisscrossed my legs. Pricks of movement climbed my back. In no time, beetles coated my body. I yelped and swatted, but they clung with tenacious determination. They started to bite. Tearing holes in my clothes, they soon reached skin. A fiery pain burned with each bite. Blood welled and a beetle would drink, while his partner chewed hunks of my flesh. Two gnawed into my stomach, disappearing from my sight. They were eating me alive. Horrified, I writhed on the floor trying to dislodge them, my motions frantic. I didn’t want to die. One of the beetles ate through my cheek; I felt its hard body on my teeth before it clamped down on my tongue. The hot tang of blood filled my mouth. “Do you want it to stop?” Sir’s voice asked. Choking on beetles and blood, I tried to say yes, but a gurgle was all I could manage. The attack stopped. No bugs. No pain besides my aching ribs and burning throat. My clothes were intact. I rubbed my hands over my skin just to make sure it wasn’t pockmarked with gaping wounds. My fingers slid over smooth skin. Sir helped me to stand on trembling legs. “The percentages?” I hesitated. “If your sand mixture doesn’t match the sample Tal brought from the Stormdancers, Tricky’ll make sure you do better with your second try.” The threat pulsed in my heart with a familiar ache. The controlling fear. To do as instructed because the alternative was unbearable. “Tricky—” “No. Give me a minute. I can’t think.” Was keeping silent about the Stormdance recipe worth the anguish? The beetle attack replayed in my mind as a shudder of revulsion ripped through my body. I wasn’t strong enough before; what made me believe I could endure this time? I pushed the horror of the beetles from my mind. I needed to concentrate, to become a glassmaker. Wrong numbers would cause my sand to look different. Even though they had a sample, they still needed me. A small portion wasn’t an accurate representation of the entire batch. During the Glass Wars, competing glassmakers tried to steal buckets of their rival’s sand to deduce the ingredients. It hadn’t worked. The coarser, heavier components tend to settle to the bottom of the pile. Sir yanked on my arm, twisting my elbow. “We’re waiting.” He released my wrist. I rubbed my left shoulder while I examined the contents of the barrels. The lava flakes and red Bloodgood sand were easy to identify. I dipped my hand into one of the remaining barrels. White Krystal sand flowed through my fingers, powdery and light. The second barrel contained sand from the Stormdancer’s beach. The coarse yellow and brown grains rasped when they poured from my palm. This, along with the Krystal sand made up eighty percent of the recipe. I would have to keep the red sand and lava flake numbers the same, but I could fudge the others. In fact, the heavier granules would settle to the bottom of a stockpile over time, leaving the lighter particulates near the top. If Tal had been in a hurry when he stole the sample, he would have scooped from the top. I pointed to the Krystal barrel. “Fifty percent.” Ash filled one of his bigger bowls with the contents and handed it to Sir. He carried it over to another table. “Thirty percent from this one.” Ash used a smaller bowl this time. “Fifteen percent for the red sand and five percent lava flakes.” The glassmaker filled his two remaining bowls. Sir and Tal helped him carry them over to the mixing table. Using a scale, Ash weighed each bowl and adjusted the contents to meet a certain weight. Again a sense of disorientation swept over me. The effect of seeing a scene from my childhood acted out by people who wanted to harm me. My father had taught me how to use the scale to calculate the right weight of sand for a certain mixture before I learned how to read. Once satisfied with the weights, Ash dumped all the bowls into a drum mixer. Inside the drum were metal fins. He secured the hatch and spun the drum using a handle, mixing the ingredients with a quick efficiency. After he emptied the contents into another container, Ash compared the mix with Tal’s sample. A new surge of terror swept over me. I willed myself to stay calm and suppressed the desire to swallow the hard knot in my throat. “Looks the same,” Ash said. The tight band around my neck eased. I drew in a quiet breath as the tension in the room dissipated. “Can I go now?” I asked. Sir snorted as if I had made a joke. “You’re our guest. We would be remiss in our duties if we didn’t feed you and let you rest. Besides we need to make certain the sand melts overnight and the orbs are made properly. And I’m sure Ash will appreciate your expert help tomorrow.” With an arm around my shoulder, he guided me toward the kitchen. Crafty served me a meal of beef jerky and a glass of water before Sir escorted me to my room. When the lock snapped shut, I almost laughed out loud. I promised myself this would never happen again. But here I was. Again. I lied. And the knowledge that I would give them the right percentages if my duplicity was discovered ate through my heart as efficiently as one of Tricky’s beetles. Not only a liar, but a coward, as well. I used my cloak as a blanket and managed to get a few hours of sleep before my door was unlocked. Bright morning sunlight spilled into the narrow room. “Time to work,” Tricky said. He followed me and kept watch as I helped Ash arrange the tools near his bench. The glassmaker had tied his hair back. The smoky color of his eyes matched his hair and could be the reason for his nickname. Powerful muscles sculpted his arms from a lifetime of working with molten glass. “Empty the annealing oven,” Ash instructed. “The items inside should be done.” I pulled open the hatch. The oven slowly cooled the pieces to room temperature to avoid cracking the glass. Removing a glass ball from one of the metal racks, I paused. Sir and his group had tried to make orbs before. The ball appeared to be an early attempt. “That batch wasn’t quite right,” Ash said. “We thought we had matched the formula, but the elasticity of the glass wouldn’t let the orbs get any bigger without breaking.” The weight and thickness of the orb was wrong, but yet the glass under my hands felt familiar. The odd desire to fill the orb with magic pulled at my heart. I dismissed the impulse. I couldn’t put magic into a glass piece I hadn’t made. Or could I? The memory of a sand woman and my connection with Kade floated in my mind. I had blown magic into Indra’s glass orb, but with Kade’s help. I set the pieces on a nearby table already laden with past attempts. Sir arrived to watch, but Crafty and Tal remained in the other room. “Gather a slug,” Ash ordered. Taken aback, I blinked at him for a second. He was letting me collect the molten glass. I moved to obey before he could reconsider. An idea formed in my mind. A chance to escape. I thought of a hundred reasons why it wouldn’t work before I could plan. The biggest reason loomed next to me. Tricky. Reaching for the blowpipe, I focused on the task at hand. I noted the craftsmanship of the kiln. The iron hatch was tight, but swung up with ease. Bright yellow light carried by waves of searing heat pulsed from the opening. I squinted into the glow, wishing I had my goggles. I inserted the larger end of the pipe into the mouth of the kiln, letting the metal heat. Hot glass wouldn’t stick to cold metal. The feel of the pipe in my hands and the habitual actions of warming the end calmed my mind and body. Doubts and worries disappeared, and the real possibility of never having another decent opportunity for escape dominated my thoughts. At least I should try. Dipping the pipe into the molten glass, I spun it. The motion gathered the slug as if I had twirled a stick in a bowl of taffy. I kept the pipe turning so the slug wouldn’t drip when I removed it from the kiln. Once clear of the kiln, I ceased spinning the pipe. The glowing slug sagged. “Keep it going,” Ash yelled. “You’re supposed to be an expert.” A small drop splattered on the wooden floor. “Hey!” Ash leaped to his feet. He grabbed a metal scraper from his row of tools and tossed it to Tricky. “Clean it up before the floor catches fire.” But I wanted the room to burn. When Tricky bent to clean the smoking globule, I swung the pipe. 14 THE END OF the blowpipe connected with Tricky’s temple. It wasn’t a hard blow, but getting molten glass on his head was worse than being knocked unconscious. Along with Tricky’s shrieks, an acrid smell of burning hair and flesh filled the room. I moved fast. The commotion would alert the others. Sir grasped the hilt of his sword. I rammed him in the stomach with the hot end of the pipe. His shirt caught on fire. Flesh sizzled. He yelped and hopped back. Ash was on his feet, reaching for me. I brandished the pipe and he backed away. A woman’s voice hollered. No time left. Wiping the rest of the slug onto the floorboards, I sprinted for a window. An odd instinct pulled at me and I grabbed one of the glass balls from the table. Cries and shouts followed me as I ran. Smoke fogged the room. I broke the windowpane with the blowpipe and cleared the jagged edges before diving through. Hitting the ground with an audible thud, I gasped for breath. At least the sandy soil softened the impact. But I wasn’t free yet. I staggered to my feet and raced to a nearby copse of pine trees. Once there, I paused in amazement, I still held the glass ball and blowpipe. Logic insisted I leave the ball there—I would need two hands to defend myself. But the little orb wanted to come, so I cradled it in the crook of my arm. Bushy green branches thwacked me as I maneuvered through the forest. I increased my speed when the trees thinned. A rustling noise sounded behind me. I glanced back. Nothing. The sound increased. I stopped, listening. Surrounded by the pitter-patter of movement, I scanned the forest. A brown melon-sized shape dropped from a tree branch. Suddenly the trees around me were filled with these shapes. They rained down to the ground and advanced toward me. Spiders. Panicked, I searched for a clear path. None. Magic, my logical mind told me. Illusions. Keep moving. Get out of the magician’s range. My body refused to heed the advice. The glass orb in my hand began to vibrate. Momentarily distracted from the encroaching spiders, I peered at the ball. Ordinary. No flaws or bubbles. No humming of power, yet I sensed potential. As if it waited for me. I closed my eyes, blocking the vision of a mass of spiders mere feet away. Having nothing to lose, I concentrated on the glass in my hands. I imagined myself working with this piece and reaching a critical point in the process. Summoning my energy, I channeled magic into the glass ball. A clink sounded. I peeked at the orb in my hands; a tiny brown glass spider was inside. Without thought, I continued. The clatter of the orb filling with spiders rang in my ears. The creatures on the ground disappeared one by one. When the clearing emptied, I held the orb up to the sunlight. It was full. The rest of the day passed by in a blur. I kept moving, and alternated running with walking. With no idea where I was or where I was going. I just went, hoping I would find something—a house, a business, people—anything that could help me. I may have escaped Sir, but with no food, water, money or warm cloak, my troubles were far from over. All I had was a blowpipe and a heavy glass orb loaded with spiders. Spurring me on was my fear of being recaptured, which switched at times to the paranoid belief that one of Sir’s group tracked me. When the sun set, the air cooled fast. The prospect of spending the night outdoors seemed certain. I debated the merits of continuing my journey or finding a place to sleep. My body decided when I tripped over an exposed root and used my remaining energy to stand. I found a group of pine trees and broke off a handful of branches with my pipe. Not easy considering the lack of a sharp edge. Under one of the bigger trees, I scooped out the sandy soil, making a shallow depression. Wedged below the tree, I used the branches as a blanket. The thought of predators kept me awake for a while. Before falling asleep, I allowed myself one satisfied smile. I was free. A cold wetness pressed against my temple. Snuffing sounds tickled my ear. Groggy, I swiped at the annoyance and tried to turn over. But the annoyer persisted and whined. “Go away,” I said to the dog before I realized the implication. Scrambling from under the tree, I studied the yellow canine. She ran circles around me, wanting to play. Her short coat gleamed in the morning sunlight and her clear brown eyes were alight. Happy. Healthy. Well cared for. Not a stray. Or at least not a recent stray. I searched for the dog’s owner. The dog followed me, but tended to get distracted by various smells and objects. “Home?” I asked the young dog, hoping she would lead me there. No luck. She spotted a rabbit and dashed off. Her stocky body wasn’t built for speed, though, and she soon loped back. My stomach grumbled and I wished the dog had caught the rabbit. I mused over the possibility of making an animal trap, but decided to keep walking. The dog stayed with me. After a couple of minutes, she paused and cocked her head to the side. She spun around and darted through the trees. I followed as fast as I could. Hearing a voice call out, I aimed for the source. “There you are!” I froze. Sir had found me. I waited for the inevitable rush, but none came. “Where have you been?” the same voice asked, but with a playful tone. Relaxing with relief, I realized the man was the dog’s owner. Just past the next tree, an older man petted the yellow dog. She rushed to me with her tail wagging. Excited to see me, she danced around as if I’d been gone for years instead of minutes. “I see you found a friend,” the man said. He scanned my bedraggled clothes covered with pine needles. “Child, you’re a long way from anywhere. Do you need help?” “Yes, sir.” He led me to his farm, and introduced me to his wife, Judi. She immediately brought me inside. Only when I was fed and settled with a mug of hot tea in my hands did the couple ask questions. I hesitated. They lived close to Sir’s workshop. What if they knew about him and were helping him? The kindness and concern on both their faces didn’t appear to be faked. I could invent a story of getting lost just in case. But what if Sir and Tricky tracked me here after I left? These people should know about the potential danger. I sighed. Being mistrustful and suspicious was hard work, and opposite of my nature. In the end, I told them a brief version of what had happened. Horrified gasps followed my story. Judi bustled about the kitchen as if needing action. The man named Riks reclined in his chair with his dog sleeping at his feet. A thoughtful frown pressed his lips together. “Thought I saw smoke. I’d better take you into Mica to talk to the guards.” The half-day trip to Mica, the long process of explaining about my kidnapping to the Mican authorities and the wait for the town’s magician to arrive mixed together into one exhausting day. Riks offered to lead a few soldiers back to his farm and point them in the direction of Sir’s glass shop, since I had no idea where I had escaped from. Finally the town’s Captain led me to a small guest room and I collapsed on the bed. After all was said and done, Zitora confirmed my story through the town’s magician, who used one of my glass messengers to speak with the Master. I felt a brief welling of pride to be responsible for increasing the speed of messages, which caused me to smile, thinking about Kade’s pep talk on confidence. Although a wonderful invention, there were difficulties involved with my animals. Setting up a Sitia-wide network and choosing who should be allowed to communicate what type of information had become a problem. The Sitian Council still debated the issue. Currently, I made them for the Keep’s magicians stationed throughout Sitia. Through the magician, Zitora instructed me to return to Thunder Valley. My arrest warrant had been voided—the two witnesses and the stand owner had been paid by Sir to lie, and the stolen vase had been planted in my saddlebags—yet the authorities still needed to complete the proper protocols for my official release. Zitora requested an armed escort for me, so I had to wait until the soldiers returned from their mission with Riks. They arrived the next day, reporting the discovery of the charred remains of Sir’s building. The kiln survived the fire, but little else. There was no sign of Sir or his gang. No other problems occurred during the two-day trip south. I arrived at the administration building and waded through what seemed like a mountain of paperwork. By the time I finished, the sun had set and Zitora wanted to wait until morning to leave for the Keep. I followed Zitora to the inn where she’d been staying since my disappearance. “My room has two beds, you can share with me,” she said. We sat at an empty table in the busy common room and ordered dinner. My stomach growled. I hadn’t eaten since breakfast. Questions filled Zitora’s eyes. We hadn’t had time to discuss the details of my kidnapping. But before she could voice any, Kade arrived. Strands of his golden-brown hair had sprung from a leather tie, and his clothes were torn and wrinkled. His frown deepened when he spotted us. Zitora and I exchanged surprised glances as he strode toward us. This time of the year was the height of the storm season. “Kade, what—” Zitora started. “Are you all right? What’s going on?” he demanded, staring at me. I stuttered, appealing to Zitora. “I told you she was fine,” she said. “But little else.” He rolled my small orb onto the table. “I can’t use this to contact you. It only works when you’re sending to me.” Yanking a chair out, he dropped down, crossing his arms. “I want more details. Now.” I waited for her to bristle, to give him the cold Master Magician stare of affront. Although she stiffened with displeasure, she kept her comments about his behavior to herself. “I told you to wait. I haven’t discussed all the details with Opal yet.” “You haven’t?” Outrage filled his voice. “Why not? My dancers could be in danger. I can’t just wait for your information.” Ice crystals could have formed in the air around Zitora. “Opal’s been through a difficult time.” Her voice sliced with the sharpness of a sword’s blade. “Since she kept the Stormdancer’s orb recipe a secret despite being physically harmed, I would think you’d be a little more patient regarding this matter.” If I were to describe his reaction in storm terms, I’d say the hurricane just fizzled into a light mist. I tried to suppress my smile when he sought my forgiveness. “Now that you’re here, you might as well stay and hear the information firsthand. Opal?” Reluctance knotted around my throat. “What do you want to know?” “Everything from the beginning.” “But you already know—” She held up a hand. “Doesn’t matter. Go on.” Despite her orders, I didn’t tell them everything. The incident with the spiders and the fact I had followed Tricky while well aware of his illusion, I planned to tell Zitora in private. The story sounded more heroic without those details. Was I trying to impress Kade? “Odd,” Zitora said after I finished. “This group of rogues wants to make orbs, but they don’t have the power to harvest energy from a storm. I wonder what they’re planning to do with them.” “Tal was with them. Maybe he told them he can fill the orbs,” I guessed. Kade had listened to my tale in stony silence. “I hope Sir doesn’t kill Tal when he discovers the boy has no powers. I’d like to do the honors.” By his intent demeanor, I had no doubt he meant it. “Justice will be served, not revenge.” Zitora frowned as she contemplated. “What would Sir do once he finds out Tal has no power?” I mulled over her question. The memory of being eaten alive by beetles came to mind. Tal would suffer, and I couldn’t produce any sympathy for him. “If they’re planning to harvest storms, then they would have to find another Stormdancer.” “Impossible,” Kade said. Zitora and I shared a smile. “Nothing’s impossible,” I said, repeating Zitora’s advice to me at the start of this whole mess. “My Stormdancers wouldn’t work for Sir.” “Are you sure?” Zitora asked. Kade refused to back down. “Sir could coerce or bribe a Stormdancer to work for him.” I squirmed in my chair, thinking how easy it had been for Sir to force me to help him. If he had discovered my deception with the sand recipe and punished me again, I knew I would have given him the right numbers. “A valid point,” she agreed. My thoughts turned to Tricky. Sir had two magicians working for him, could there be others? “Could they have their own Stormdancers?” I asked. “No,” Kade said. Zitora shot him an annoyed frown. “If a Master Magician can be corrupted, I’ve no doubt a Stormdancer can be, too. If you have nothing helpful to add, then be quiet.” When she seemed satisfied, she asked me, “What did you mean about the Stormdancers?” “You said before that not all magicians are Keep trained. Does the Stormdancer power only manifest in the Stormdance Clan members?” I paused, glancing at Kade. “As far as we know,” he said with a stiff tone. “Then what if one of the clan married a Krystal Clan member? Say they live in Mica and raised a family. Could one of their offspring have the ability to capture a storm’s energy?” “Possible. But who would teach the child?” Kade leaned forward, finally getting into the spirit of the discussion. I turned my thoughts back to the problem. “There could be a Stormdancer with a grudge.” Kade made a sound, but kept silent. “Go on,” Zitora urged. “A rogue who decided to leave and start his own group of dancers. But he can’t make the orbs so he hires Sir to help him get the recipe. No.” I shook my head. “Sir wanted to stop us from helping the Stormdancers with their orbs. Why would the rogue sabotage their orbs?” Wheels turned in my head as I followed the logic. “To make them give up the recipe!” “Why would the Stormdancers tell the rogue the recipe?” Kade asked. “They wouldn’t, but the glassmakers would. Their orbs are shattering and killing people. They’re desperate to make them right. Sir shows up with an offer they can’t refuse. Tell him the recipe in exchange for the reason their orbs are so brittle. Except we’re called to help and ruin the rogue’s plans. He sets Sir on us and when that doesn’t work, he captures me.” “A possible scenario,” Zitora said. “It’s pure conjecture,” Kade said. “It’s an exercise in logic, thinking past the facts. The Masters and I do it all the time. Opal speculated a possible reason for Sir’s actions by making an assumption. The rogue. Now, let’s assume it’s not a rogue dancer but an owner of a factory who wants the orb’s energy to power his equipment. There is a lot of jealousy over the orbs. The other clans believe the Stormdance Clan should share.” Before Kade could defend his clan’s actions, Zitora launched into another round of questions. I struggled to produce possible answers to how and why a factory owner would try to procure Stormdance orbs. When fatigue slowed my responses, we stopped for the night. Zitora headed to our room, but I needed to retrieve a few things from my saddlebags. Kade followed me to the stables outside. “You should never be alone. Sir and his gang are still at large. And don’t forget about Blue Eyes.” “I found out his name is Devlen, and I won’t forget about him.” I shuddered, remembering his possessive hunger. “At least your Stormdancers are safe.” I found Quartz’s stall and hunted through my bags, turning my back on Kade to hide my spider-filled orb. I was so engrossed in my task, Kade’s quiet voice surprised me. “I didn’t travel all this way just because I was concerned for my Stormdancers,” he said. Afraid to meet his gaze, I kept sorting through my bag even though I no longer remembered what I had been searching for. “You didn’t?” “No. I …” I waited. “I … wanted to ask you about your sister Tula.” His voice changed back into his normal tone. Closing my bags, I wondered what he had really wanted to say. I stood and faced him. “What about her?” “How long did it take before you could think of her without …” He tapped his chest. “The burning pain?” “Yes.” “Two to three years. But don’t go by me. Everyone grieves in different ways. For some, it could take longer or shorter. I do know it never disappears. An ember still smolders inside me. Most days, I don’t notice it, but, out of the blue, it’ll flare to life.” The air around me pressed against my skin as if charged with magic. I stepped closer to Kade, seeking to connect with him, ease his pain. He jerked back, and the energy dissipated. “Then I should avoid getting burned again.” I masked my disappointment as he escorted me to my room. His distant demeanor returned and he remained business-like and brisk. “Please inform me if there’re any new developments with Sir and Blue … Devlen. Have a safe journey home.” “You, too.” He nodded and left before Zitora opened the door. Since there was nothing more to do in Thunder Valley, Zitora and I set out for the Citadel the next morning. Even though she acted normal and knew information only Zitora knew, I still checked her shadow on occasion. Each time the black shape matched her figure, I released a breath I hadn’t known I held. Helping the Stormdancers had gotten me into more trouble than I cared for. I convinced myself that staying far away would be for the best. I stroked Quartz’s neck, content to leave Thunder Valley behind. The sunshine warmed my new cloak and the cool air held a crisp scent of earthy pine. For once, I looked forward to returning to the Magician’s Keep. The day passed without incident. When the light faded to gray, Zitora scanned the surrounding area, and decided to make camp off the main east-west road, which led straight to the Citadel. An abandoned quarry was on the other side, and a thin wood occupied our side. “Gather wood for a fire, and I’ll take care of the horses,” she said. I picked up enough dead branches from the edge of the wood to get a fire started, but would need more for the rest of the night. Before searching deeper into the forest, I hesitated. Reluctance pulled. Every time I had been alone, something bad happened. Determined not to let my fears rule me, I pushed through the underbrush and collected a few bigger logs. Every sound caused my heart to jump and sweat dampened my shirt, but I persisted until my arms were full. Zitora lit the fire and cooked us a pot of beef stew. The yellow glow from the flames cast shadows along the ground and in the woods. Multiple times I sought the familiar black shape behind Zitora as if I was a child checking the presence of my mother. I wondered if Yelena’s time as the Commander’s food taster made her instinctively test each meal for poisons before she ate or if she avoided hugging people because they might prick her with Curare. Thinking back to the first time I had seen Yelena after I had tricked her, I remembered being so happy to see her I hugged her without thought. She hadn’t recoiled. In fact, she hugged me back. Her advice about not letting the past ruin the future proved impossible to follow. How could I stop checking Zitora’s shadow? Wasn’t I supposed to learn from my past mistakes? How did Yelena do it? How could she relax by a fire without worrying about a Fire Warper jumping from the flames and burning her? Magic, of course. She was a powerful Soulfinder. If a person approached her with Curare, she would sense the intention and counter with ease. In my case, I don’t think an attacker would wait while I fired up the kiln and gathered a ball of hot glass. Zitora retrieved our bedrolls from the saddles. I stared at the flickering flames, wishing I could do more with my magic. “What’s this?” Zitora asked. Instead of our rolls, she held the spider-filled glass orb. “One of the orbs Ash made. I grabbed it when I escaped.” She arched an eyebrow, but remained quiet. The silence drove the story from me. I told her about Tricky’s magical attacks, and how I countered the second one. “I really haven’t had the time to wonder where the glass spiders came from. Filling the orb with magic, I can understand. But for the magic to convert into actual glass is beyond my ability to explain.” “Or mine,” Zitora said. “Magical illusions are really just visions in your mind. A magician will send you images that cause your body to have a physical reaction, like feeling the beetles’ bite and eat your flesh. Once the magician stops, the vision disappears and so does the magic. I’ve never heard of a magician able to turn magic into an object. Perhaps Bain would know more.” She tipped the ball and shook one of the spiders into her palm. “Are these the creatures that attacked you?” She handed me the piece. Spider-shaped and fingernail-sized, the clear glass encased a single brown spider. The glass felt thin and brittle as if I could crush it between my fingers. “Yes, but they were bigger.” My skin crawled with imaginary legs. I resisted the urge to swipe my arms. “Why didn’t you tell me about this sooner?” I searched for the right words, but no matter how I phrased it, it would sound strange. “The spiders want to stay with me.” “They do?” “Yes, and I was afraid the authorities would confiscate them. And we really haven’t had time to discuss it yet.” “So you planned to tell me?” “Of course.” Her dubious expression turned into a smile. She shook a handful of spiders from the orb. “There must be hundreds of them.” Concentrating on the ones in her palm, Zitora hunched over them. “There’s magic inside, but I can’t use it to communicate or to do anything else. Perhaps you funneled Tricky’s magic into the orb and trapped it.” I considered. If I could do it again, I would have a potential defense against a magical attack. Many questions circled my mind. Would I need to use the exact same type of orb? Or could I use any glass container? “Very interesting.” She poured them back into the ball. “I can’t wait to get back to the Keep and try a few experiments.” “Experiments?” “Yes. Don’t you want to explore this new power?” “I do, but I’ll have classes.” And tests to fail. Class-mates to injure. Zitora waved her hand. “Your curriculum so far has been geared for a standard magician. Since Yelena’s arrival, we have realized that not all students match the standard. When we get back, I want to change your focus.” “You can do that?” “Of course. Especially since you’ll be my student.” I blinked. “Don’t look so surprised,” she said. “Your powers have always intrigued me and I think it’s about time I mentor a student. Although—” Zitora frowned “—since you’ve been ambushed, attacked, incarcerated and kidnapped while in my company, perhaps you’ll want another teacher.” I rushed to assure her of my honor in being chosen. She gave me a rueful smile. “My first mission without guards and I made a mess of it. The Sitian Council will never let me go alone again.” At least she didn’t run home to her father. My first mission wasn’t a success, either. I thought about Kade’s instructions to be confident when I left the coast. Despite my boast of being an all-powerful glass magician, now I could think of another who might have done the same thing with the glass orbs and magic. Ulrick. I counted how many days it has been since we left him in Booruby. Twenty days. My body ached as if seasons had passed. But my mood lightened. Twenty days meant Ulrick should be waiting for us at the Keep. A potential friend and a potential colleague. I could be working closely with Zitora and Ulrick. My desire to return to the Keep increased threefold. The sight of the white marble walls surrounding the Citadel made me whoop with joy. After three days on the road, I was more than ready for a warm bath, a hot meal and a soft bed. Zitora shared my enthusiasm and we raced our horses to the Citadel’s west gate. The guards at the entrance gestured for us to slow down, but otherwise waved us through. We maneuvered around the crowded streets and were soon inside the Magician’s Keep located in the northeast quadrant of the Citadel. At the stables, I rubbed down Quartz and fed her a bucket of grain. The other horses had whinnied greetings when we arrived. The Stable Master inspected her from tip to tail and declared her healthy. She sucked down two milk oats from his palm. Most of the horses in the stable would do just about anything for a couple of the Stable Master’s special treats. I returned to my quarters in the apprentice wing. Even though my residence consisted of two small rooms—a bedroom and sitting area—I had them all to myself. After sharing a room with my sisters, being crammed into the Keep’s barracks for three years and one year living with four others in the seniors’ quarters, I had my very own space. Dust coated the furniture and a musty odor floated in the cold air. I had been gone for a total of thirty-six days, over half the cooling season. I threw my pack and sais onto the table. Assembling a bunch of kindling, I started a fire to warm the room while I hurried to the bathhouse to bathe. Ordered to report to the Masters’ meeting room right after breakfast tomorrow, I had the rest of the evening to myself. I decided to grab a late dinner. On my way to the dining room, I passed many of my fellow students. No one stopped to ask where I had been. No one called hello. A few scowled and a couple of girls sniggered after I walked past. The usual reaction. I wondered how the other students would feel once the news of my apprenticeship to Zitora leaked out. I imaged their stunned and jealous faces. Even better would be when they saw Ulrick by my side, as I gave him a tour of the campus. His gorgeous green eyes staring at me with rapt attention. My little fantasy lasted until I entered the dining hall. Ulrick sat at the head of a large table filled with students. The group of mostly girls laughed and flirted with him. He was the center of their attention. Only here a few days at most, Ulrick had managed to do what I couldn’t accomplish in four years. My appetite gone, I fled the hall. 15 I KNEW I shouldn’t care Ulrick had already made friends. Most of my life had been lived in my sister Mara’s shadow. She had all the friends and attention from every young man in the Cowan lands. I had Tula. When Tula had been alive, I didn’t need anyone else. We were inseparable. Until the night Ferde stole her. She’d sent me to bed early. I was supposed to help her keep the kilns hot, but I was sick with a fever. She dragged me to bed, tucked me in, and the next morning she had been gone. Dark memories threatened to push up from the depths of my mind. I squashed them down. No reason to suffer the heart-shredding guilt again. No relief in playing the “I should have” game. I glanced around my empty living area as I crossed to my bedroom. The glass owl Tula had made for me on my fourteenth birthday rested on my nightstand. The statue fit neatly in the palm of my hand. I examined the exquisite detail of each feather and the perfect shape of the talons. She had a finer hand with the molten glass. The tweezers in her expert fingers would blur in motion, resulting in a lifelike animal. My hopes of finding a true friend like Tula at the Keep hadn’t lasted long. With my involvement in imprisoning the Fire Warper and his partners, the other students either were jealous of my “fame” or afraid. And my propensity for classroom accidents didn’t help my popularity. Our classes were small—three to five students and an instructor. I remembered a session with Professor Greenblade, learning the history of Rodknee Bloodgood, the first magician to use magic to move objects. After the lecture, I had been paired with Pazia to recreate Rodknee’s original experiment. Pazia had no trouble moving the lead weight off the table and high into the air with her magic. All my efforts resulted in nothing. I couldn’t move the weight past the mark on the table, let alone off the surface. When the professor leaned on the table to check his mark, it collapsed under him. Professor Greenblade laughed it off and continued his lesson, but Pazia and the others had spread rumors that I was a jinx to all magicians. A knock pulled me from my musings. Going into the other room, I peered through the window. Ulrick. Surprised, I opened the door. “I thought I saw you in the dining hall,” he said. “Welcome back.” I sputtered for a moment before words formed. “Come in.” Moving back, I berated myself for my bumbling. If Ulrick noticed, he didn’t say anything. He walked around the room. On the left side, there was a couch in front of the hearth. Table and chairs occupied the right side, and a desk rested along the back wall and next to my bedroom door. “This is nice. They have me in the guest quarters for now, but if they see any potential I might get a more permanent spot.” Ulrick peeked into my bedroom. “How long have you been here?” “Two days. I already met with Master Bloodgood, but he thought we should wait for you and Master Cowan before doing more formal testing.” He scanned the papers on my desk, and fiddled with my quill. “I saw you already made friends.” I tried to keep my voice even as if commenting on the weather. He shrugged. “The kids are sweet and they’ve been very helpful in showing me the Keep.” Moving over to my table, he picked up one of my sais. He hefted the weapon and jabbed the air with the shaft. “You’re bored.” He stopped in midsweep. “Is it that obvious?” “You’re fighting an invisible opponent.” Ulrick laughed and set the sais back down. “I was on the road for six days and here for two. I’m used to working in the factory every day. I need …” He made a vague gesture with his hands. “I know what you need.” “You do?” “Yes. I need it, too. Follow me.” “Where’ve you been?” Aydan demanded. Never one to waste time on pleasantries, he went straight to the point. I smiled at the old glassmaker. “I’ve been on a mission for the Masters.” “Mission?” He glanced at Ulrick. I introduced him to Aydan. “Another glass magician?” “Maybe,” Ulrick amended before shaking Aydan’s hand. The glassmaker snorted. “Another with confidence problems. At least Opal admits she’s a magician.” He handed me a blowpipe. “Gather me a slug.” I scanned the small shop. No signs of an assistant. Raising an eyebrow, I looked at Aydan. “I can’t find anybody good. They’re all lazy. All whine about the heat and noise.” I exchanged a smile with Ulrick. We were probably the only two people in the Citadel who would seek out the glass shop for comfort. “Perhaps you need to hire someone from Booruby.” “Pah. I don’t have the time. Besides, I can do it myself.” Why did men get so stubborn when they grew older? I sighed. “If I find you an assistant from Booruby, will you let them stay?” He gave me a grudging nod. My thoughts turned to my sister, Mara. If she came here to work with Aydan, she would be closer to her beau, Leif. And to me. Selfish, I knew, but I would send her a message. “Good. In the meantime, I’ll help you.” I hefted the iron rod. Ulrick pulled the pipe from my hands. “We’ll help.” Aydan chuckled. “Now we’re talking. Gather me a two-inch slug, boy.” He settled on his bench and arranged his tools. “Opal, make me a domed punty and tell me about this mission.” The two of us worked together as Aydan crafted a variety of vases and bowls. I filled them in on what I had been doing for the Stormdancers, skipping a few details. Uncertain about my ability to channel another magician’s magic into glass, I decided not to divulge my role in helping Kade or mention the spider incident. I also failed to tell them about Devlen’s attack in Thunder Valley, although I didn’t know why. At one point Ulrick interrupted. “They made a glass studio out of wood? That’s idiotic.” “It’s cheaper and faster to build,” Aydan said. “And it worked to my advantage.” I continued the story of my escape. “Damn. All that equipment burned.” The glassmaker clucked his tongue. Ulrick, though, appeared horrified. “How can you say that when Opal could have been killed?” “She’s here, ain’t she? Shovel more coal into the kiln, will ya.” Muttering under his breath, Ulrick grabbed a shovel. When Aydan finished his last bowl, he stood and stretched his arms and back. “There’s some melt left, refill it when you’re done.” Without another word, he left the workshop, heading next door to his home. Ulrick stopped shoveling. “What is it with older glassmakers? They order you around and go off without a thank-you or goodbye. My mother’s the same way.” “When you have a limited time left to live, would you want to waste it on small talk?” My brush with disaster had caused me to realize again how precious life was. Interesting how after Alea had released me over four years ago, I had felt the same way, intending to enjoy every free moment of life. Yet I had lapsed back into a daily routine, wishing my time away. Ulrick looked at me. Strands of black hair clung to his sweaty forehead. The urge to wipe the dirt off his strong chin pulsed in my chest. I wished I could render his proportioned features in glass so I could stare at him without blushing, and I reconsidered sending the note about Aydan to my sister. Ulrick certainly wouldn’t be paying attention to me if Mara was here. I squirmed under his continued scrutiny. “Aydan mentioned melt. Would you like to work the glass?” “Could you show me how to make animal shapes? My mother always thought it was a waste of time.” He shrugged. “No money in it. But I’d like to learn.” We worked together and, with my guidance, he made a swan. The piece didn’t resemble a first effort. Ulrick’s skills with the glass were impressive. With the second animal, I gathered the molten glass onto the end of a blowpipe. When he finished shaping the legs and tail of a pig, I instructed him to blow through the pipe. The creature’s body expanded as it should. Although well crafted, the pig didn’t glow with magic. I didn’t mention the lack of power. What worked for me didn’t have to work for him, but my curiosity about how he inserted the magic into his pieces grew. “Can you make one of your vases? One that sings?” I asked. “No. I need a special sand mix. It’s your turn. I’d like to see you work your magic.” Remembering his failure to see the inner glow in Zitora’s unicorn, I said, “You probably won’t be able to see it.” “Maybe I just need to be here. What are you going to make?” “I don’t know.” He huffed. “You sound just like my sister. How can you not know?” I shrugged. “I have to have the image of my finished piece firmly in mind before I sit down at the bench. Otherwise I end up with a cold slug of glass.” When I couldn’t provide the exact reason my method worked for me, he gathered the last of the melt. All distractions disappeared as I focused on rolling the pipe and shaping the glass. My mind open to the slight nuances in the glass, I used my tweezers and tugged until a shape formed. Then I blew magic into the piece. The core glowed as if on fire. “I thought you said your speciality was animals,” Ulrick said. “It is.” I considered the finished sculpture. Technically it was a living thing, but I had never made a seashell before. It twisted around a center point like a conch shell. “Interesting.” “Crazy,” he teased. “Crack it off. I’ll put it next to mine in the annealing oven to cool.” “Do you see the inner light?” He hesitated for a heartbeat. “No.” “So to you this is …” “A lump of dull glass shaped like a shell. Sorry. Perhaps you should stick to animals.” I waited to see if he would remember seeing Zitora’s unicorn. He frowned but didn’t mention it. I said the words for him. “Or perhaps not.” “I didn’t say—” “Don’t worry about it. My ego can handle it.” “I know my ego wouldn’t. Otherwise I would have agreed with my mother and found another occupation instead of trying to prove her wrong.” We cleaned up the work area and filled the kilns with Aydan’s special sand. Ulrick added enough coal to keep the fire hot for most of the night. Aydan would need to check on it overnight. By then, the sand mixture should melt and be ready in the morning. When we finished, we headed toward the Keep. The lanterns along the main Citadel road cast a yellow softness on the hard marble walls of the buildings. Our footsteps echoed through the deserted street. I marveled over how much time had passed while Ulrick and I had worked. Nighttime fears and apprehensions crawled along my skin. I checked Ulrick’s shadow, sighing with relief to see the shape matched my companion’s broad shoulders. I wondered if he knew how to defend himself. Like an idiot, I had left my sais back in my rooms. The need to protect myself still wasn’t instinctive in spite of my recent kidnapping. I had assumed Ulrick’s company was all I needed to stay safe. “Why is seeing the inner glow so important?” Ulrick asked. I explained about the magic trapped inside. “If I can’t see it, then I’m not a magician.” “I wouldn’t jump to conclusions. The Masters are just realizing there are a number of unusual magical abilities. If it hadn’t been for Yelena, my magic never would have been discovered and I wouldn’t be here.” Ulrick looked at me in surprise. “You know Yelena Zaltana?” “Yes.” I waited. “What’s she like? Is she as powerful as the rumors say? As beautiful?” I suppressed my annoyance. At least he wasn’t pumping me for information about my sister, and he hadn’t heard about my involvement with trapping the evil souls. I confirmed the rumors and told Ulrick a few details, including her commitment to Valek, the Ixian Chief of Intelligence. “The most hated man in Sitia in love with the hero of Sitia. Wow. I’d bet the story of how they met would be fascinating.” “It is.” Before he could ask for more information, I changed the subject. We discussed the best way to explore his magic glass until we reached the Keep. The gates were locked, and the guards suspicious until I explained who we were. We didn’t see anyone walking around the Keep’s campus, but Ulrick insisted on escorting me to my quarters. “You really don’t need—” I started. “Nonsense. After what happened, you should have a battalion of guards with you at all times.” “A battalion? Six-hundred men?” “All right. A platoon then, and not a single soldier less.” He acted stern. “I’m insulted, now. Only thirty men? I’m worth a cohort at least.” He considered. “I don’t know. You’re the only glass magician that we know of, but I’ve seen the shell you made, and—” “Watch it.” “You’re right. One-hundred men at least, although I’d be happier with two cohorts.” He opened my door for me and gestured me inside. As I passed him, he placed a hand on my shoulder. I paused. “I’ll go and order that battalion. We shouldn’t skimp on safety.” The intensity of his concern sent a wave of warmth through me. We had been joking around. Hadn’t we? I couldn’t think of a proper response, so I thanked him for taking me home. He nodded and left, closing the door behind him. In my sitting room, I poked the dying embers of the fire into flames, adding wood until the hearth blazed with light and heat. The crisp air felt empty. And I longed to be … Be where? Be home with my family? The familiar homesick ache didn’t fill my heart. And the thought of going back to helping my father in the factory was unappealing. Be at the coast with Kade? Tempting, except for the fact Kade grieved for his sister and kept himself at a distance. Plus the Stormdancers had no real need for my skills. Be with Ulrick? I would enjoy getting to know him better. My skin still felt warm where he had touched me. But I might have read more into the gesture than he had intended. He probably viewed me as a younger sister who held no talent for shaping glass. I guessed I would have to be content with my current situation. The thought of working with Zitora raised my spirits. Perhaps my last year at the Keep wouldn’t be as lonely as the first four. Tired from only a few hours of sleep, I dragged my body out of bed the next morning. After breakfast, I hustled to the Masters’ meeting room in the Keep’s administration building. All three Masters sat at a conference table. They argued without anger. I hesitated in the doorway until Zitora waved me in and pointed to an empty seat. Maps of the Moon Clan’s lands covered the surface. Black lines marked the Ixian border. “… Valek isn’t involved,” Master Jewelrose said. “But that’s his calling card,” Zitora said. “Was. Just because a black statue was found in Councillor Moon’s house doesn’t mean she’s been targeted for assassination.” Irys Jewelrose flipped through a file of papers. “The Councillor’s sister desires the position. It is probably an attempt to scare the Councillor into retiring. We’ve seen this type of power struggle within the clans before.” “But what about the report of illegal border crossings into Moon lands?” Zitora asked. “We can’t send Ixian refugees back to Ixia.” Good point. Before Commander Ambrose agreed to a trade treaty and created a dialogue between Ixia and Sitia, Ixian refugees were granted protection. But now it has become a diplomatic problem between the two countries. The Commander wanted to be informed about any deserters, but he hadn’t been willing to let them live in Sitia. As far as I knew, an agreement still hadn’t been reached, and the Council claimed ignorance over how many have crossed since the treaty. “A mess,” Master Bloodgood said. “Irys, send a message to Liaison Yelena. See if she will accompany you to the Moon lands. Best if we get this settled quickly. We need to step up our negotiations with the Commander, and finalize the refugee issue.” Irys collected her files and stood. “I’ll leave as soon as possible.” She paused next to me. “Good work with those Stormdancer orbs. I knew we sent the right person.” She winked at me before leaving the room. “I agree,” Bain Bloodgood said. “Councillor Stormdance wanted me to express his thanks. You have impressed us with your knowledge and your escape from harm.” “And she made a few important discoveries,” Zitora added. “Indeed. I will leave you to discuss your plans.” Bain’s gray eyes sparkled with delight at the prospect of learning. When the door closed behind Bain, Zitora rolled the maps and returned them to the iron rack. She spread a clean sheet of parchment in front of her. Picking up a stick of charcoal, she said, “First thing we should do is to construct a glass workshop in the Keep.” “Truly?” “Yes. We should have built one years ago. You’ve supplied us with your glass messengers all these years and I never stopped to think how inconvenient it was for you to go to the Citadel. You should have requested your own shop.” “I didn’t mind. I learned a lot from Aydan.” Plus he always listened to my problems and frustrations. “We now have Ulrick and all those interesting abilities of yours to experiment with. And the need for your magic animals has increased. The Council would love to set up a network of messengers all over Sitia, which means you’ll need to make more and you’ll need to access the equipment without working around Aydan’s schedule.” She flourished the charcoal. “I need a list of supplies and specifications.” Zitora wrote down the items needed to build a workshop and I roughed out the design and layout of the shop on another sheet. “I’ll find a location and hire a building crew,” Zitora said. “You can buy the necessary supplies and equipment. Ulrick can help you. It’ll give him something to do until the shop is ready for you both to use.” She signed the bottom of the list. “Bring this list and all the invoices to the Keep’s accountant to pay the bills. Make sure you’re not cheated. You might want to enlist the services of the market’s Helper’s Guild. I hear Fisk can point you to the best merchants in the Citadel.” “I’ll have to travel to Booruby for a few of these supplies.” “You’re in charge.” She handed me the paper. “Go where you need to.” “But what about my apprentice classes and studies?” Her eyebrows spiked up in impish delight. “Besides daily self-defense, weapon and equestrian practice, this is your studies.” As I hurried from the Masters’ meeting room, I thought about the classes I no longer had to attend. Would I miss the sessions with the Professors and my fellow apprentices? Every school day for the last four years, I had two morning classes followed by lunch. The afternoon activities included weapons and self-defense training with the Master of Arms, and an extra-long history class. Learning Sitian history spanned the entire five-year program. My evenings had been spent studying and practicing the day’s lessons. My emotions flipped from relief—no more frustration over what I couldn’t do with my magic and no more accidents—to disappointment—no more hope that another aspect of my power would reveal itself. However, the job of purchasing supplies and equipment for a glass workshop thrilled me. This task I could do. No worries, hesitation or doubts. A welcome change of pace. Leaving the administration building, I searched for Ulrick. The weak midmorning sunshine tried to warm the air, but we were over halfway through the cooling season, and soon the dreary dampness of the cold season would dominate. First morning classes had ended. Students filled the campus pathways. Clustered in groups or hurrying to another building, they had a half-hour break before the start of the second sessions. Intent on finding Ulrick, I sailed past the others not bothering to note their moods. I found him outside the guest quarters surrounded by a gaggle of senior girls. Hanging back, I waited for the group to disperse, but Ulrick spotted me. He excused himself and joined me. “What’s the plan for today?” he asked with a smile. I filled him in on the details of my meeting with Zitora. Even with students walking past and calling out hellos, he gave me his full attention. Although my sense of importance died when Pazia Cloud Mist bumped into me. “Sorry,” she said with a tone implying she was anything but. A fellow apprentice, Pazia’s powers were impressive enough to cause speculation on whether or not she possessed Master-level magic. Knowing her, I didn’t doubt she would demand the Master-level test. She had taken an instant dislike of me the moment we met at the beginning of our first year. And she always seemed to be a witness to my most disastrous efforts, including my latest goof of burning her with hot wax. “I know I didn’t interrupt anything vital,” Pazia said. “Ulrick, do you need me to rescue you from the One-Trick Wonder?” “Excuse me?” He looked at her in confusion. Normally, I would ignore her snide remarks, but not this time. “You did interrupt us. I suggest you get to class before you’re cited for tardiness.” Anger flared in her olive-colored eyes. “You’re going to be late, too. Especially if I set your clothes on fire.” A valid threat. Pazia was known for her temper. I should have backed down and kept my mouth shut, but I didn’t. Perhaps the sais around my waist gave me a feeling of empowerment. I laughed. “Set fire to my clothes? How first year. Pazia, you really should be setting an example for the younger students not fires. But if you must show Ulrick how petty you can be …” I held my arms out with a weary patience. “Go ahead.” 16 INSTEAD OF IGNITING my shirt, Pazia pressed her lips together in annoyance. “You’re not worth my time.” Turning her back on me, she rushed away. “You called her bluff,” Ulrick said. “She’ll make me regret it.” “How?” “By spreading lies and ugly rumors about me to her friends.” “Why would you care?” I paused. Why would I care? It wouldn’t change anything. “She’s a student, one of many,” he said. “You work with a Master Magician. Liaison Yelena is your friend.” Ulrick’s comment sounded logical, but just because I knew and worked with respected magicians didn’t mean I deserved the same honor. I had to earn my place. Unfortunately with my limited magical abilities, all I’d earned from my classmates was contempt. And a few of them, like Pazia, even thought I had betrayed Sitia by pricking Yelena with Curare. “Let’s get started with this list,” I said. “We should order the kiln supplies first.” “Is there a brick merchant in the Citadel?” The Citadel had been built with marble, so I doubted there were many brick factories nearby. “Probably not, but I know who to ask.” “It’s about time,” Aydan said. The glassmaker had put us to work as soon as we entered his shop. “They should have built you a kiln years ago.” Ulrick pulled the cooled pieces from the annealing oven. He inspected my seashell. “I agree. Your magic glass is important to the magicians. You should have demanded your own shop.” I was just glad to be a student at the Keep. The thought of requesting special treatment seemed alien. Plus, coming to Aydan’s had always been a good excuse to get away from my classmates. Not wanting to explain to Ulrick, I asked, “Would you demand kiln time from your mother to work on your pieces?” He considered. “No. I see your point.” “And I see two people standing around doing nothing,” Aydan said. “Ulrick, add coal to the kiln. Opal, gather me a slug.” We hastened to obey. When the glassmaker had finished his work for the day, he wrote a list of all his suppliers. “Don’t forget you promised to find me a helper.” Since a trip to Booruby was required for us to finish our project, I planned to talk to Mara about coming to the Citadel. In the meantime, Ulrick and I agreed to help Aydan in the mornings. The glassmaker would find a temporary assistant for the rest of the day. “Don’t you have classes?” Ulrick asked as we left Aydan’s shop and headed toward the market. “Not anymore.” A brief pang touched my heart, but when I considered working with Ulrick all day, the empty feeling filled with … What? Happiness? A sense of purpose? Excitement? Perhaps a bit of all three. Located in the center of the Citadel, the large open market contained a variety of goods and services for sale. Unlike my hometown of Booruby, where stores were scattered throughout the city, the market had representatives from every business within the Citadel. Even Aydan had a stand he shared with five other merchants. One day a week, it was his turn to sell his glasswares at the stand and take orders from customers. It made shopping easy. The biggest problem was the sheer size of the market. Certain vendors were hard to find in the bustle of shoppers. Ulrick and I cut down a small alley and entered the market. He paused as the roar of voices and spicy smells crashed into us. But he adapted fast. Pulling Aydan’s list from my hands, he scanned the paper. “Bricks and large equipment will have to wait until the trip to Booruby. For now, we should tackle the smaller items. Let’s find the blacksmith and order the irons, pipes and the hardware for the gaffer’s bench. Then we’ll talk to a woodworker about building the bench and cracking-off box.” He glanced around the crowded market. “It might take us a while to find anyone.” “We should hire a member of the Helper’s Guild,” I said. Seeing his confusion, I explained how Yelena had inadvertently started the guild by paying a young beggar boy to help her navigate the market. “He expanded on the idea. With his friends and family’s help, they were soon earning a living by providing services from haggling with vendors to carrying and delivering packages.” “We don’t need to waste the money. With a little extra work, we can do it ourselves.” “You risk being cheated or hiring an unskilled craftsman. The Helper’s Guild knows all the best merchants.” “I’m sure they do. I wonder what percentage they get paid by the best merchants. Twenty percent of the amount of business they bring in?” Ulrick’s cynicism surprised me. I never would have thought the guild would be dishonest. And why not? Just as there were deceitful merchants, there could be corrupt guild members. Zitora warned me to be careful and not get cheated. “You’re too nice, Opal. One day, someone is going to take advantage of you. Best to let me handle all the negotiations with suppliers. Come on.” He strode into the heart of the market, but I didn’t follow him. Letting Ulrick make the decisions and be responsible for the outcome was an easy way to dodge my responsibility. But Zitora assigned me with this task. If I could escape from a group of rogues, I could handle ordering equipment for a glass studio. I grew up in a glass factory. I knew every inch, every procedure and every tool. The same could be said of Ulrick. Atinge of doubt touched my mind. I suppressed it with sudden—foolish?—determination. I hovered on the edge of the market, creasing my forehead with uncertainty. As expected, a young girl appeared by my side. “Lovely Lady, can I help you?” she asked. Fresh faced with hopeful kindness radiating from her brown eyes, it was hard to believe this ten-year-old member of the Helper’s Guild could be capable of deceiving me. But the possibility stained my thoughts. “I want to hire Fisk,” I said. She shook her head. “He is very busy. Clients hire him weeks in advance. I’ve been working here for years. I can get you the best prices. Fisk trained me himself.” Her adult words contrasted with her youthful appearance. Keeping a smile from reaching my lips, I assured her that I wasn’t worried about her skills. In fact, it was hard for me not to hire her on the spot. I collected my resolve and pushed past my reluctance. “My friend, Liaison Yelena Zaltana, told me to hire him.” “Lovely Yelena is your friend?” She peered at me with suspicion. “What is your name?” When I told her, she instructed me to wait and disappeared into the crowd. Shoppers ebbed and flowed. Ulrick returned, looking for me. A scowl etched on his face. “Why didn’t you follow me?” he demanded. My voice locked for an instant, and I wondered if his ire was from concern or annoyance. I reached for the list clutched in Ulrick’s fist. Tugging at the paper, I met his gaze. “You’re helping me with this project. I’m hiring a guild member. Wait.” I held up a hand. “You’re right to be cautious, so I’m insuring we get the best and most trusted member.” Ulrick released the paper, but his scowl deepened. “You shouldn’t be alone.” “The market is filled with people.” “Doesn’t matter. In fact, it’s easier to disappear in a crowd.” The girl returned with a young man. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” Fisk said. He had grown since I last saw him. An inch taller than me, his lean frame was all arms and legs. But intelligence and confidence radiated from his movements. Only fourteen years old, Fisk was the founder and leader of the Helper’s Guild. “Thanks for coming,” I said. “I need your expertise.” “One condition,” he said with a smile. “Besides your payment?” “Of course. That goes without saying.” “What’s your condition?” “That you deliver a message to Yelena for me.” It seemed a simple request. One he could do on his own. “She’s on a mission.” I hedged. “I know. But my message is too important to wait until she comes back from Moon lands. And you have the needed connections to get the information sent via those wonderful glass messengers of yours.” Understanding dawned. “You know about them?” “Of course.” He winked. “I’ll try to send her a message.” Another thought occurred. “How did you know Yelena was going to the Moon Clan?” A mischievous grin spread. “To quote my mother, ‘I see all, hear all and know all.’” Ulrick huffed in disbelief. He crossed his arms, attempting to intimidate the youth. But Fisk had grown up on the streets. His neat appearance and fine quality tunic and pants gave him the look of a pampered teen, but the cold calculation in his eyes as he studied Ulrick revealed his hard childhood. “Obviously, you’re new to the Keep,” Fisk said. He turned to me. “A glassmaker from Booruby. Can he make magic glass?” “That’s none of your business,” Ulrick said. “We don’t know yet,” I said. Ulrick shot me a betrayed look. “Then there’s hope he may be of use.” Fisk gestured to the young girl. She had stood beside him without uttering a word. “Jayella, help my client this afternoon. Madam Uriy wants to buy a pearl necklace for her granddaughter. Do not spend more than two golds. Anything above that price is robbery. Try to get one gold and ten silvers. That’s a fair price.” She nodded and disappeared into the crowded market with a lithe grace. “My best apprentice,” Fisk said. “She uses her sincerity and innocence to get her way when haggling for prices. In another five years, she’ll have merchants tripping over themselves to make her happy.” He seemed to relish the prospect. “It’s deceitful,” Ulrick said. “Using a young girl to coerce the merchants. She should be in school.” “She should,” Fisk agreed. “Of course, if she was in school, she would starve to death. Her parents abandoned her when she was four. No money for food or school clothes, survival was her only choice. And it isn’t deceitful. Greedy merchants prey on the unwary. We make sure they charge an honest profit.” “For a price.” Ulrick’s posture was tight with tension. “Exactly! Our clients are well aware of the cost of our services up front. And no one is forcing them to hire us.” Fisk smiled as if he and Ulrick had come to an agreement. “Now, Lovely Opal, what can I do for you today?” I showed him my list of supplies. He wrinkled his forehead in concentration for a moment. “I know a woodworker from Owl’s Hill. He’s new, but does fine work and the best part is he’s still hungry for clients. His prices are reasonable. And he’s fast. Come on.” Fisk led us through the market. His popularity evident by the number of people who called his name and waved. Various members of the guild would appear by his side for advice before scampering off on unknown missions. He guided us to the woodworker, and then to a blacksmith. In one afternoon, we had commissioned several pieces of equipment. More progress than even I expected. Ulrick stayed sullen. Pouting or annoyed or suspicious, I couldn’t tell. I paid Fisk for his time, arranging to meet the following afternoon. “We’ll finish your list tomorrow,” Fisk said. He slipped a folded paper into my hand. I placed the note into my cloak’s pocket, remembering my promise to send a message to Yelena for Fisk. If Ulrick saw the motion, he didn’t mention it. On our way back to the Keep, I said, “Once we order all the items, we can leave for Booruby. Did you bring a horse with you?” “No.” “The Stable Master probably has a few extra horses. Do you know how to ride?” “Yes. But it doesn’t matter,” he said in a rush. “I’m not going to Booruby with you.” “Why not?” “You don’t need me.” He increased his pace. I hurried after him. “Look, if this is about Fisk—” “It’s not. You were right about him. It’s just …” He stopped in midstride. “I told my family I was never coming back to Booruby again.” “Why would you say that?” Ulrick raked a hand through his short hair. “I was angry. My mother insisted I was on a fool’s errand. She predicted the Masters would send me home soon after I arrived. She griped about having to find a temporary worker. I lost my temper. Told her to hire a permanent employee because no matter what the Masters said, I wasn’t coming back.” I tried to put myself in his place. My family had always supported me. They had made a fuss over my glass animals even though they couldn’t see the glow. No doubt my life would have gone in a different direction if they hadn’t encouraged me. “That’s a hard promise to keep,” I said. “If you become a glass magician, you might be sent to Booruby for a mission.” Surprise flashed. “I hadn’t considered that possibility. I guess I’m trying to keep from getting my hopes up, but returning to my hometown on a mission for a Master Magician would be different than returning a failure.” Hadn’t I worried about the same thing? I understood his dilemma. “You don’t need to come with me. My father will be happy to help.” And here I was, running home to him again. But my list was bound to have a few essential items missing, and I would need a second opinion. Since my father had constructed eight kilns, he was the best person to consult. Uncertainty lingered in my stomach. What about Sir and his gang? Or Blue Eyes? They hadn’t been caught. I was safe in the Keep. Or was I? I glanced at Ulrick’s long shadow cast by the sinking sun. Tricky had convinced me he was Master Cowan. He could easily sneak inside. And I would be fair game on the road to Booruby. I wrapped my fingers around the handles of my sais. Searching the area near me, I looked for Tricky’s shadow. An armed escort to Booruby wouldn’t be enough against the magician. Perhaps Zitora would want to come along. We continued toward the Keep. I jumped at every noise. “Opal, what’s wrong?” Ulrick asked. “Just my overactive imagination.” Although I wondered where the line was between caution and paranoia. I hated the feeling of unsettled worry creeping along my spine, and the burning conviction of Tricky watching me, waiting for a moment to attack. I promised myself Ulrick’s warning about being taken advantage of wouldn’t come to pass. But those promises were difficult to keep, and I had been exploited before. Alea used me as a weapon. I shivered and forced the horrid memory from my mind. Ulrick must have sensed my distress. “Did you see Sir or Tricky?” “No.” Thank fate. “You should really stay inside the Keep. It’s safer.” “I know, but I won’t hide. I’ll take precautions and be vigilant,” I vowed. He kept quiet for a few blocks. “I can’t tell you what to do. But I’m pretty good with a sword. I’ll make sure to have it with me when we’re together.” He linked his arm in mine, pulling me closer to him. The warmth of his body and the heat of his touch traveled along my skin. All unpleasant thoughts leaked away as I enjoyed his solid presence. All too soon, we arrived at the Keep. Despite being dinnertime, Zitora still worked in her room in the administration building. Here she presented her public face, and her bare office lacked the softness of her tower home. A few sterile paintings of bridges hung on the walls, parchment and ink littered her desk and a handful of lonely books leaned against each other on the single shelf. Two empty chairs faced her desk. We settled in the seats, reporting the day’s progress and my plans to travel to Booruby for the remaining supplies. “Very good,” she said. “I’ll see who we can get to escort you south.” Disappointment dragged on my shoulders. “Can you come? My mother’s apple cobbler is worth the trip.” “Tempting, but I can’t leave right now. There’s too much going on.” Her comment reminded me about this morning’s discussion on the Moon Clan and Fisk’s note. I pulled the paper from the pocket of my cloak. “I have a message for Yelena from Fisk.” Zitora turned to Ulrick. “Go and have dinner before the dining hall closes.” “What about Opal?” he asked. “She has a riding lesson with the Stable Master.” “She shouldn’t be alone.” “She’s perfectly safe inside the Keep.” “Are you sure?” “Of course. We assigned an extra magician at the gate.” I listened to them argue over my safety as if I wasn’t in the room. With so many magicians around, I knew I only had to scream and help would be mere steps away. My confidence in this plan lasted until I remembered Alea had entered the Keep without trouble. And we had left without any problems. Before I could fret, I applied logic to her ease in my kidnapping. She had Ferde’s help, who, at the time, had Master-level magical power. Alea also had my full cooperation. Ulrick and Zitora arrived at an agreement, although I didn’t know the exact details. He said he would meet me later at the stables, and left. Once he was gone, Zitora took Fisk’s note and read it. She frowned. Not good news. “Do you know what it says?” she asked. “No.” “Fisk knows who to trust.” She tapped a finger on her desk, lost in thought. Dismissed, I headed to the stables. Stable Master greeted me with his usual gruffness. Quartz was saddled and ready to ride. She bumped her head against my chest, looking for sweets. “After,” I whispered in her ear. “I’ll steal a couple of milk oats for you.” “Mount up,” Stable Master ordered. He put me and Quartz through the paces. We made figure eights until I was dizzy. Quartz trotted and galloped around the training ring, following his shouted orders faster than I could direct her. I cursed my luck in getting Stable Master for my teacher as my legs and back twinged with pain. All those days of hard riding still didn’t prepare me for an hour’s worth of jumping small obstacles. Next session, I would bring a Barbasco yam. “That’ll do for now,” he said. “You’ve improved. But you still have a long way to go. Clean your tack and give her a good rubdown.” I muffled a groan when my feet hit the ground. Grooming Quartz was enjoyable, but cleaning the stiff leather tack with a rag and saddle soap was a nightmare. By the time I finished my chores, the stables were empty of students. I led Quartz into her stall, checked her water bucket and fed her the promised milk oats. Ulrick arrived to escort me to my rooms. My annoyance over his wrong assumption that he could defend against a magician better than me faded when he smiled. His concern was unexpected and nice. No one else in the Keep had worried about me before. I enjoyed his company. And there remained the chance he might link his arm in mine again. My thoughts flicked to Kade. I had shared his mind. The Stormdancer saved my life twice; I still owed him one. But he was wrapped in his own stormy world. A world where I didn’t belong. While I fit right into Ulrick’s world. In a bold move, I linked my arm in his. He pulled me close and I could have happily walked for days with him by my side. Too soon, we stopped at the bathhouse so I could wash off the grimy horsehair clinging to my sweaty skin. He escorted me to my quarters and even checked inside for intruders. “See you tomorrow,” he said. “Lock your door.” “Yes, sir.” I saluted. “Opal, this is serious. You could be hurt or worse.” “I know that. It’s just easier sometimes not to think too much about it, or I’ll never leave my rooms.” “Good plan. Never leave your rooms without me.” “Now who’s joking?” I teased, but his seriousness failed to diminish. “I’ll wait outside until I hear your lock click. Good night.” He left, but, as promised, he stood with his arms crossed just past the threshold. I closed the door. As I turned the bolt on the lock, I couldn’t suppress a slice of worry. His overprotectiveness might infringe on my freedom to come and go as I pleased—one of the best perks in being an apprentice. But my emotions flipped. It could also be a sign of his wanting to become more than friends—an appealing prospect. Three solid days were spent assisting Aydan and teaching his new assistant, Leda, how to handle the hot glass in the mornings. Once I’d let Fisk know Aydan sought a helper, Leda had arrived the next day. Quick to learn, the young woman, much to Aydan’s annoyance, beamed as she worked. Her demeanor remained placid despite his bursts of ill humor. Calluses lined her fingers and palms. Leda was no stranger to physical labor. I should have talked to Fisk sooner. I suppressed a grin. Aydan would have a difficult time chasing Leda away, and he might even enjoy her company in time. When we were confident she could handle the glassmaker’s demands, Ulrick and I left the workshop to spend the afternoon talking with suppliers. Ulrick and I had ordered all the glass equipment we could from the Citadel’s craftsmen. The next step would require a trip to Booruby to purchase a kiln. Ulrick had been my constant companion these past days. I already missed him and I hadn’t even finished packing. My saddlebags bulged with supplies and with the small orb I had taken from Sir and his group. I wanted to show my father the glass spiders. Zitora had been too busy for us to discuss the strange magical incident further, and I wanted to wait until the glass shop at the Keep was finished to experiment with magic. It seemed safer. I packed the spiders in a leather bag and left the orb empty just in case I was ambushed on my way home, hoping I would be able to defend myself. Zitora promised to assign an escort for me, but couldn’t say who it would be. At dawn the next morning, I arrived at the stables. Unease over the trip rippled in my stomach until I spotted my companion. Leif. He adjusted the straps on Rusalka’s saddle. “How’s my favorite glass wizard this morning?” he asked. I laughed. He said the same thing to me every time I saw him. Quartz poked her head out of her stall and I hurried to get her ready for travel. “What did Zitora bribe you with to babysit me?” I asked. It was his turn to chuckle. “I volunteered once I heard where you’re going.” “You’re just using me to get to my sister.” “Of course. Otherwise I would hate you—you get way too much attention around here. And you know me, I …” “Like to be in the middle of things, getting in the way,” I teased. He pretended to be hurt. “Perhaps I should let one of those boring guards accompany you.” “As long as he is handsome. I hear Mara is rather lonely.” He gave me a rueful grin. “Touch?.” I threaded my new sheath through Quartz’s saddle. While traveling on horseback, I would save time by having my sais on each side of the saddle instead of fumbling for them through my cloak. The need for the weapons dampened my playful mood. “Did Zitora tell you why I needed a companion?” I asked Leif. He mounted Rusalka and nodded. “There could be five of them trying to get to me.” “I hope I’ll sense them before we stumble into an ambush, and I’ve learned a few things from Valek.” His hand rested on the hilt of his sword. A machete also hung from his belt. “And a few magical defenses from Yelena.” Yelena’s name reminded me of the discussion the Masters had about the Moon Clan’s troubles. “Why aren’t you with your sister?” “Politics.” He said the word as if it tasted rancid. “I’ve had my fill. Besides, she has plenty of help. Master Jewelrose is with her and I’m sure Valek will appear if she gets into trouble.” He huffed in amusement. “When she gets into trouble. Actually I’m looking forward to the trip. It’ll be like a vacation for me.” “Leif, those men could—” “Don’t worry. The road to Booruby hugs the western border of the Avibian Plains. If we’re outnumbered, we can detour into the plains. No shame in outrunning the bad guys.” “Outrunning?” “Have you taken Quartz into the plains yet?” “No.” Leif grinned. “Then you’re in for a treat. These Sandseed-bred horses fly like the wind in the plains.” Our first day on the road passed without incident. With only a few weeks left of the cooling season, the temperatures hovered near freezing during the day and dropped at night. Since Booruby was five days south of the Citadel, it would be a little warmer. There weren’t many towns along the main road. Farm fields dominated the landscape to the west and the plains stretched to the east. We stopped for the night in a roadside shelter. A crude wooden building with bare bunks, a fireplace and a large, fenced pen for the horses, it could house up to twenty people. Six fellow travelers were already inside. A fire blazed in the hearth. Lanterns were also lit outside the building to light the way for any late-night travelers. Leif cooked our dinner, while I tended the horses. As we ate, Leif reminisced over the various meals he had eaten at my house. “Do you think your mother will tell me the recipe for her bread pudding?” he asked. “I’m beginning to wonder if your interest in Mara is just for my mother’s cooking.” He faked being insulted, then said, “Oh no, I love Mara’s cooking, too.” I swatted him on the shoulder. After we settled in our bunks, I listened to the quiet murmur of the others, the popping of the fire and the rustling of horses, straining to hear any sounds out of the ordinary. I touched my sais, checking they were within reach. “Leif?” “Hmm?” “Should we take turns keeping watch?” “No. Rusalka will whinny if someone approaches the shelter.” “What if you don’t hear it?” “There’s no sleeping through that racket. And if I don’t come out to see what the matter is, she’ll break the door down trying to come inside.” “What if the person is disguised by magic?” “Magic fools the eyes, not the nose. She’ll smell a … wrongness. I’ll smell it, too. It’s hard to explain.” He paused. “Opal, go to sleep. You’re safe here.” “Thank you for coming with me.” “Anytime.” Leif was right about Rusalka. The high-pitched and loud neighing woke everyone in the shelter. Leif bolted from his bunk with his sword in one hand and his machete in the other. I followed, holding my sais. The outside lanterns cast a weak yellow light. My relief at seeing the cause of the trouble didn’t last long. A pack of wild dogs surrounded the horses. Low growls emanated from bared teeth as they circled Quartz and Rusalka. From time to time, one would brave the horses’ hooves and dash in to bite a leg. Leif shouted and waved his sword, but there were a dozen black dogs. They were smart enough to stay out of range of his weapons. Too smart, in fact. The dogs widened their circle to include Leif, moving as if one intelligence directed them. “Open the gate so the horses can get out,” Leif called. I rushed to comply. When the way was clear, he told the horses to go to the plains where they could outdistance the dogs. A good plan, except Rusalka wasn’t going to leave without Leif. The other travelers joined me by the fence. “Rocks,” one man yelled. We scurried around, finding and throwing rocks at the dogs. My aim was horrible, so I passed my rocks to the man. Eventually, we drove the dogs off. Two lay dead, kicked and killed by the horses. Leif checked the horses for injuries, while I dragged the dogs’ bodies out of the enclosure. The man helped and the others kept watch, still clutching their rocks. I knelt beside one dog. Its clean coat was free of fleas. I checked the other. Well fed. These weren’t wild dogs. I reviewed their behavior during the attack. Yelena could communicate with horses. If the pack’s owner was a magician, perhaps he directed the dogs’ actions. He might try again. Leif joined me. Besides a few cuts, the horses were fine. “Guess we should have scheduled a watch,” Leif said. “I didn’t think we needed to protect the horses.” The man who had helped us frowned. “We never had a problem with dogs before,” he said. “I’ll talk to the locals, get a hunt organized or maybe set up a few traps with poisoned bait.” I kept my suspicions to myself. We thanked the man and his friends. They filed back inside. “Go back to sleep,” Leif said. “I’ll take the first watch.” The attack bothered me. “Do you think the dogs were sent as a distraction?” “It’s possible. I thought I smelled magic. But why didn’t they take advantage of the situation?” “The horses didn’t panic. Besides Rusalka’s horrible squealing, they were calm. And she woke everyone. Perhaps the magician didn’t want to try anything with six other witnesses around.” “Good point. We’ll just have to be more vigilant.” I thought I would never get back to sleep after all the excitement, but I did. Leif woke me two hours before dawn. “It’s been quiet. But stay close to the horses,” he said. “What if the dogs come back or …” I couldn’t say Tricky’s name out loud. “Tell Rusalka to cry, and she’ll wake everyone again.” “Magical attack?” “Same thing, but if you can’t talk, the horses are sensitive to magic and she’ll let me know. Sandseed horses are very protective. Keep them between you and an attacker and I’ll be there in no time.” Leif yawned. I checked the enclosure. The horses leaned together, sleeping. Scanning the road and surroundings, I paced. Jittery anxiety pulsed through my veins. I didn’t like feeling as if danger stalked me. Nothing I could do about it, which added to my conviction of not being in control. My hands twitched for a punty iron with a slug of molten glass on the end—a formidable weapon. Instead, I pulled my sais. Flicking the blades out and in, I practiced offensive strikes and defensive moves. The activity warmed me and I removed my cloak. Before I knew it, the dark sky paled, announcing dawn’s imminent arrival. I fed the horses a bucket of grain and checked their water buckets. Satisfied all was well, I slipped through the gate and fumbled with the latch, muttering under my breath over the complex catch. Without warning, an arm snaked around my neck. “Cry!” I yelled as the arm locked tight, pressing against my windpipe. 17 RUSALKA’S LOUD SQUEAL pierced the air. The pressure on my neck eased a bit. I shifted my hips to the left and rammed my right elbow into the man holding me. Then I stomped on his foot. He yelped and released me. I spun and stopped. “Ulrick! What are you doing here?” He rubbed his stomach, glaring. “Changed my mind.” He huffed. “Thought you might—hey!” The tip of Leif’s sword jabbed Ulrick’s arm. “Step away from her,” he ordered. Although he was shorter than Ulrick by a good foot, Leif’s fierce countenance and powerful build made an impression. Ulrick hurried to comply. I waved Leif off. “It’s okay. I know him.” Rounding on Ulrick, I demanded, “Why did you attack me?” “To prove a point.” I waited. “You were out here all by yourself. An easy target … or so I thought.” He looked behind me. The others had come outside. Woken by Rusalka’s warning, they clutched stones. “Still, if I had a dagger, I could have stabbed you before you said a word.” “Do the horses know him?” Leif asked. Quartz did; Ulrick had been at the stables with me many times. “Yes. Why?” “He wouldn’t have gotten close to you if he was a stranger. The horses would have warned you.” Leif studied Ulrick. “Didn’t think I could protect Opal?” “I didn’t know who was with her. I just thought one more person couldn’t hurt and I wanted to help with ordering the kiln.” I introduced him to Leif. Ulrick’s surprise turned contemplative. “The Soulfinder’s brother?” Leif huffed in annoyance. “Yep, that’s me—The Soulfinder’s Brother. Opal forgot to use my new name. I’m sure if he knew I was The Soulfinder’s Brother, he wouldn’t have worried about you. After all, Leif Zaltana isn’t anybody of consequence.” He kept muttering as he returned to the shelter to make breakfast. “Is he truly angry at me, or just being sarcastic?” Ulrick asked. “Probably both.” “Great.” “He’ll get over it. It’s hard having a famous sibling, and being judged by others based on that relationship. I grew up being Mara’s Younger Sister. No one knew my name. In fact, when we met in your mother’s factory—” Ulrick groaned. “I immediately associated you with Mara. I’m sorry. I should know better—my mother and sister are famous. No matter what the rest of my siblings and I crafted with glass, it was always compared with our mother’s. I’ll apologize to Leif.” “Good idea. Now what about your promise never to return to Booruby?” “I’m still not visiting my family, but I wanted to help. There’s nothing more to do and Aydan is quite content with his new assistant.” I looked around. “How did you get here? Do you have a horse?” He ducked his head, and stuttered with guilt and chagrin. “I … uh … borrowed a horse from the Keep’s stables.” “Borrowed?” “He was one of the extras who hadn’t been claimed by a student. I left a note for Stable Master.” “A note!” “It was late; I didn’t want to wake him.” The excuse was weak. I laughed. “Didn’t want to face him is more like it.” “That, too.” “So where is he?” “I tied him to a bush over that rise.” Ulrick pointed down the road. “I figured you stopped here, but I wanted to check your defenses before bringing him here. I’d better go get him.” When Ulrick led the horse over the rise, I almost fainted. The all-black stallion had an unmistakable white moon on his forehead—Moonlight. “There’s a reason no one claimed Moonlight,” I said, as Ulrick removed the saddle. “Perfect name. He’s quick and intelligent. A Sandseed breed, I believe.” He patted the horse’s neck. “Don’t you want to know why?” “I’m afraid of the answer.” His flippant response lacked conviction. “You should be.” “Come on, get it over with. You’re dying to tell me—I can see in your eyes. You want revenge for my mock attack.” “I’m not that vindictive.” “Now you’re scaring me.” “Good. Because Moonlight was going to be a gift to Commander Ambrose of Ixia. Our relationship with Ixia has improved thanks to Liaison Yelena, and the Sitian Council wanted to make a gesture of goodwill.” All color faded from Ulrick’s cheeks. “I’m in …” “Deep shit?” “Yes.” Ulrick failed to follow my suggestion to return the horse as soon as possible. He insisted on accompanying us to Booruby. Leif’s cold shoulder toward Ulrick melted when he apologized. Also, Ulrick’s ability to make travel rations flavorful won him Leif’s good approval. After traveling all day, we stopped and made camp along the road. “We made such a racket last night,” Leif said, “it’s best we avoid the shelters.” Cornstalk stubble lined the harvested field and worked well as kindling. We sat around the campfire and talked about sisters. Ulrick had two, one older and one younger than him. I grew up with two older sisters, and Leif had Yelena, who was kidnapped when she was six years old and returned home five years ago after a fourteen-year absence. “She made up for the lost time,” Leif said. “We blew through all those years of sibling rivalry in two seasons.” He laughed. “Probably a good thing she wasn’t with me when I was growing up. I never would have lived to see age twenty. Since she’s been back, I’ve been bait to an amorous necklace snake, kept under house arrest in the Commander’s castle, squeezed through a tunnel too small for me and paralyzed with Curare! And do you know what the kicker is?” “She’s still dragging you along on missions and endangering your life?” I guessed. “That, too. But she’s the one who gets all the attention. I was at the Warper Battle and helped defeat the Daviian Vermin, but does anyone remember that? No! They remember Yelena diving into the fire, sacrificing herself to defeat the Fire Warper.” “You have to admit, that was pretty big,” Ulrick said. Leif grumbled halfheartedly. “Well, I have a scar.” He showed us a four-inch healed slash along his forearm. “We know the significant role you played in the battle,” I said. “Don’t forget you’ve already caught one person’s attention and admiration. And she’s a hard one to impress.” “True.” Leif beamed. “Only three more days until I see her again.” Ulrick ahhed in understanding as he made the connection. “Mara.” I waited for his jealousy or for a longing and wistful look. My sister had not only been gifted with beauty, but she was a sweetheart, too. Kindness, concern for others and intelligence, she had it all. His demeanor remained pleasant. “Lucky man. Every guy in Booruby has a crush on her.” “Including you?” I asked, unable to stop myself. “I was in school with her, but she had no interest in any of us.” He considered. “I probably did have a crush for her back then, but not now.” Ulrick watched me. “Good,” Leif said into the lengthening silence. “Cause I’d hate to sic my sister on you. She’s a better fighter than me.” We laughed. “And I bet she lets you know it, too,” Ulrick said. Then his smile faded. “My younger sister crafts magnificent sculptures from glass. Sitian Councillors were commissioning pieces from Gressa before she was fifteen. She has her own shop in Moon Clan lands now. But it was hard to be proud of her when she flaunted it every chance she got. Especially when my own pieces fell far short of our mother’s expectations.” “I understand that feeling. My glass animals looked crude in comparison to my sister Tula’s. She had a finer hand.” “But look at you now.” Ulrick gestured. “Tula’s animals might be sought by collectors, and Mara sought for her beauty, but you’re a famous glass magician. Your name is said after Yelena’s when people discuss the Warper Battle, no offense, Leif.” “None taken,” Leif said. “Opal, your animals provide a service to all of Sitia. You’re important.” Ulrick raked a hand through his hair. “When my younger sister was born, she was the baby of the family. Everyone doted on her and I was ignored unless I managed to annoy one of my siblings or my parents.” His lips formed a rueful smile. “At least I was good at being a pest.” I rubbed my neck, thinking of his surprise attack. “You’re still good,” I teased. He cried out in mock indignation and pushed me gently on the shoulder. “Don’t knock the power of a pest,” Leif said. “Persistence and stubbornness can be useful in many situations.” “Opal, why didn’t you send me a message? Two guests! What will I feed them?” “Mother,” I said, trying to suppress my irritation. We had just arrived from five days on the road and I was saddle sore and tired. “You always have enough food to feed half of Booruby. They don’t need any special meals.” My mother fussed about the kitchen, muttering over her supplies. “Go upstairs and move Mara’s things to your room. We can use her room for Leif and this … Ulrick, is it? Cesca’s son?” Mother shot me a questioning glance. I nodded. “Why doesn’t he stay with his family?” “They had a disagreement over his decision to come to the Citadel,” I said. “And he’s been working with you at the Magician’s Keep?” Her eyebrows hovered at midforehead. I sighed at the unspoken question. “Yes. He’s a colleague. We’re building a glass shop for the Keep.” “He’s a nice-looking boy from a reputable family.” She scanned my rumpled travel clothes. “Perhaps Mara could lend you one of her pretty dresses for dinner tonight.” Ignoring the implication, I climbed the steps to arrange the rooms and stopped in shock at the threshold. Tula’s grief flag was gone. The shelf above her bed was empty. Her glass animals and various treasures gone. I held on to the doorjamb, feeling light-headed. Footsteps sounded behind me, and I swallowed the emotional rock lodged in my throat. “I forgot to tell you,” my mother said. “We decided it was time. I saved Tula’s fox for you. I know how much you liked it.” She pointed to my bed stand. I picked it up—all that was left of my sister. “It’s been almost five years. Why now?” “Both you and Mara are older now. You will be graduating this year. I’m hoping Leif will become a member of our family and perhaps you—” “Mother,” I warned. “Well, I can hope, can’t I? Besides every time you visit you have a friend with you, so we needed a guest room.” She sighed. “It was time to stop clutching the old days and embrace the new. And I’m hoping one day this house will be filled with grandchildren.” She held up a hand. “Don’t ‘mother’ me. I’ll say what I want when I want. Now get moving, I’m sure the boys will want to get washed up before dinner.” I replaced the fox on my table. My mother had a point about Tula’s flag and, while we may embrace the new, we won’t ever forget. “… Opal decided to try to use a bellows to pump air into the molten glass. She made a huge bubble. It was so thin it cooled too fast and burst. Looked like snow,” Mother said. The dinner table erupted with laughter and I wished to disappear. Why couldn’t they pick on Mara or my brother, Ahir? Because their mistakes weren’t as funny and they didn’t try everything they could imagine to put a bubble into glass and produce disastrous results. They just had to blow air into the pipe. Jealous? Who me? Ulrick was enjoying himself so I tried to keep my sense of humor. At least my family paid attention to me. It would be worse to sit here while everyone ignored me. I suffered through the stories and didn’t die of embarrassment. When dinner was over, I helped clean up and then escaped outside, needing a moment alone. I sucked in the crisp night air. A half-moon hovered in the sky, casting a mist of light. I scanned the grounds around my home. A cat stalked a field mouse behind the glass factory, but otherwise all was quiet. I hadn’t told my parents about Sir and Tricky’s abduction. But since the night of the wild dog attack, no other incidents had happened on the road. I felt safe here. The kitchen door opened. Leif and Mara headed toward the factory, hand in hand. I checked on the horses, and pulled a few things I would need from my saddlebags. “There you are,” my father said. “Let’s go to my lab and go over your supply list. I told Ulrick to meet us there.” He waited while I dug the small orb and a few glass spiders from my bag. I wanted to show them to him. “Nice young man, your Ulrick,” Father said as we headed toward his lab. “He’s not mine. We’re colleagues.” I tried to keep the exasperation from my voice. “Don’t get all huffy at me.” He aimed a stern stare. I regressed into a ten-year-old being scolded. “Sorry, Father.” “As I was saying, Ulrick is quick and intelligent. I like him.” It was the same description Ulrick had used for Moonlight. I suppressed a giggle, thinking about other descriptors like strong and loyal, which could be applied to both men and horses. “He comes from a good family,” Father said. A purebred, I thought. “He has a very different style with the glass.” Unique markings. “It’s a shame Cesca didn’t encourage his experiments.” Rejected by his mother. “But I’ve told him he could use our factory anytime.” Joined a new herd. When we entered my father’s lab and Ulrick greeted me with genuine affection, I felt bad about my comparisons. Deep down I knew why I did it and why I kept telling my family Ulrick and I were colleagues. Because I didn’t want to hope. Didn’t want to imagine there was more between us than building a glass shop for the Keep. Avoiding the pain of rejection, I tried to rationalize. Or was my distancing due to a certain Stormdancer? Talk about slim hope. Kade had probably distanced himself from our connection. I should do the same. He would soon forget about me. My father sat behind his desk and the three of us reviewed the supply list for the kiln. Beside each item, he wrote the name of a supplier Ulrick and I should visit in the morning. We discussed the specifications of the kiln and who to order the white coal from. “A good day’s work and you should have it all ordered,” my father said. “Just make sure Gid doesn’t charge you more than three silvers for a load of coal.” Satisfied we were done, I placed the orb and three glass spiders on my father’s desk. “What do you think?” He picked up the orb and examined it close to the lantern light. “Is this one of the Stormdance orbs?” “No. It was made by another,” I said. When he raised an eyebrow, I continued, “Someone named Ash. He might be from the Krystal Clan.” “Never heard of him. Hmm. Functional and a little misshapen, otherwise sturdy.” He gave the orb to Ulrick and picked up one of the spiders. “It looks like a real spider. Who made these?” Time for a little creative explaining. “I did … in a way.” Twin confused expressions peered at me. I steeled myself and launched into how I channeled Tricky’s attack into the glass orb. “One reason for the decision to build the Keep’s glass shop, so we can experiment with this ability.” “So these are magical spiders inside here?” my father asked. “Do they glow like your other animals?” “No glow, and Master Cowan couldn’t use the magic inside.” “Are you going to tell me why this magician attacked you?” “As long as you don’t tell Mother.” Father considered. “Unless there is a need to tell her, I won’t say anything.” I explained about Sir’s group and their desire to duplicate the Stormdancers’ orbs. Before he could reply, a muted shout reached us through the windows. The door flew open and Leif stood in the threshold. His eyes filled with horror. “Mara,” he panted. “Bit by a snake. Come. Help.” 18 LEIF BOLTED TO the factory. Ulrick, my father and I scrambled to our feet. Mara had been bitten and had mere minutes to live. In my rush to leave, I knocked the glass spiders to the floor, and crushed one under my boot. By the time I arrived, Mara was in Leif’s arms. Sweat dripped from her forehead and her body shook. A decapitated fer de lance snake and a bloody machete lay next to her. My father cursed. He knelt beside her leg. The bleeding punctures were above her ankle. The venom coursed through her leg. Shock froze all other emotions as I watched my sister die. “Ahir ran for the healer. I tied a tourniquet under her knee. But that won’t save her,” Leif cried. Suck the venom out, I thought and moved toward her. Father yelped. A large brown spider scrambled onto Mara’s foot and bent over her wound. He drew his arm back to swat it away. “No,” I yelled instinctively. “Let it alone.” The spider stabbed its mouth into the bite. Its body grew like a water skin being filled. When it finished sucking, the spider vanished. Blood splashed on the floor. “The poison’s gone,” I said. “How do you know?” Leif asked with a voice laced with pain. Everyone stared at me. “The spider told me.” Without hesitation, without question, Leif untied the leather strap on Mara’s leg; my father covered the bite and rubbed her calf to improve the flow of clean blood back to her foot. Leif cradled her in his arms, and she was enduring Mother’s worried attentions in the kitchen in no time. I loved my family. Only they would take the magical spider’s appearance and rescue in stride. Questions would arise later, but, for now, they were focused on the happy result. Ulrick remained in the factory, disposing of the dead snake and hunting for more. “Mara, you should know better,” Father admonished. “Cold night and hot kilns draw the snakes into the factory. What were you doing?” She glanced at Leif, who had his arm around her shoulders. “I was … preoccupied.” “Doing what?” he demanded. Kissing Leif, I guessed. As her cheeks turned pink, Mara silently appealed to Mother. “Jaymes,” Mother said, “you left the lanterns burning in your lab. Are you planning to do more work tonight?” Deftly distracted, my father returned to his lab. I followed. About halfway to the building, I stopped. My emotions melted and drenched me. Relief—Mara didn’t die. Surprise—she was saved by a spider. Shock—a spider who magically disappeared. Fear—it resembled one of Tricky’s spiders. By the time I joined my father, he had his magnifying glass in hand, inspecting one of my glass spiders. “Just what I thought. It’s the same spider only smaller. Care to tell me what’s going on?” “I would if I could.” I grabbed a dustpan and brush, sweeping up the crushed glass from the floor. “I stepped on one. Maybe I released the illusion?” “That spider was no illusion. Are you sure you weren’t attacked by real spiders?” I thought back. The beetles Tricky had used first were illusions. Or, as Zitora had explained, figments of my imagination planted by Tricky, which is why I had felt pain. His second strike hadn’t touched me. I channeled his magic before the spiders reached me, trapping his power. However, the creatures called to me in the glass, as if I had pulled the magic. I collapsed into a chair. “I’m not sure of anything right now.” “Only one way to find out.” “Wait—” Father tried to snap one of my glass spiders in half. He dropped it to the floor, stomping on it. Nothing. “These things are indestructible.” “Here.” I reached for it, remembering how brittle they felt in my hands. Sure enough, I broke one in half. A whoosh of air, a huff and a flash and one brown-colored spider stood in the middle of my father’s desk. Its body as big as two of my father’s fists put together and eight thin legs spread out close to the edge. I jumped to my feet, wanting to back away. “Relax.” The creature remained in place as if waiting. The door opened behind me and even the night breeze didn’t disturb the spider. “Ulrick, don’t come any closer,” Father ordered. “Opal, what did you do after you stepped on the glass?” I replayed the series of panicked events in my mind. “I ran to Mara. Stood there like a complete simpleton. And …” I closed my eyes for a moment. “And my next thought was the need to suck the venom from Mara. But the spider came and …” “Did your bidding,” Father said. “A big leap in logic,” Ulrick said from the doorway. “Easy to find out. Opal, tell the spider to climb to the ceiling.” “With my thoughts or my voice?” “We can try both. How many glass spiders do you have?” I shuddered. “Hundreds.” Drawing in a deep breath and feeling a little silly, I ordered the spider to climb. It leaped to the wall and scurried to the ceiling. When it arrived, it disappeared. For the first time ever, magic responded to my wishes. A strange sensation swept over me and I felt weightless. I dropped into a chair and clutched the armrests to keep from fainting. “Hmm. Once and done,” my father mused. “I wonder if the first spider would have followed you around until you gave it an order. Only one—” “Way to find out,” Ulrick said. “I’ll fetch more spiders. Where are they?” I told him, then snapped the remaining one. This time I ordered the spider with my mind. The results were the same. A couple hours after midnight, my father was finally satisfied with our experiments. The spiders were indeed real to the touch. They had sharp teeth and they would perform a task then vanish. They would listen only to me. I guessed when I had transformed Tricky’s magic into spiders I had become the owner. Although Tricky might be able to direct the spiders, too. And, since the only way to find out would involve him, I wasn’t going to confirm the possibility. All those history classes I had taken never mentioned the ability to transform magic into a physical object. And it wasn’t static. It moved, obeyed commands and disappeared. Did the magic dissipate when the spider finished its job? Or did the power return to Tricky? My sluggish thoughts swirled in my head as if my mind had melted. No answers formed, just an endless loop of speculation. I dragged my exhausted body to my room. Leif dozed in a chair next to my sister’s bed. Mara slept so still, I had to watch the rise and fall of her chest before I could relax. Leif roused. He drew me out into the hallway. “What’s been going on? I smelled magic.” As quick and succinct as possible, I explained about the spiders. “That’s amazing! You have a whole army of helpers. You don’t have to feed them or care for them. The possibilities are endless!” Only Leif would think of food. I was too tired to share his enthusiasm. “Leif, go to bed. I’m here now if Mara needs anything.” He gnawed his lip. “Are you sure?” “Of course, she’s my sister.” He hugged me. “Thanks, Opal. You saved her life.” “Inadvertently.” “Doesn’t matter how. She lives. That matters.” By the time I woke, the morning was almost gone. My family and Ulrick sat around the dining room table, eating a late breakfast. Mara remained pale and Leif hovered over her. Questions about the lifesaving spider shot from everyone’s lips as soon as they spotted me. Father enlightened them about my spiders, and I asked them to please keep the information quiet. “Why?” Ulrick asked. “If it were me, I’d want everybody to know what I could do.” “But I don’t know if I can duplicate the magic and get the same results. Best to wait until we have discovered everything about it.” Ulrick remained unconvinced. “It’s a logical strategy,” Leif said. “One that could save her life.” “How?” Ulrick asked. Leif glanced at my mother before speaking. “If, for example, someone was after Opal. If the person knows what she can do with her magic, they would have a way to counter it. If no one knows about her skill with the glass spiders, then she will be able to surprise them if she’s attacked.” “Good point,” Ulrick said. “No. It’s an excellent point. Those who brag and boast might cause problems, but they’re easy to counter. It’s the quiet ones who are deadly.” I considered Leif’s words as Ulrick and I visited the equipment suppliers Father suggested. My instinct to keep a few magical incidents quiet had been correct. Although, I realized I shouldn’t rely on my instincts as much. Working with Zitora, I’d been unwillingly involved with criminals. Thinking my actions through and approaching a situation with a strategy in mind would be prudent. Over the next two days, Ulrick and I had ordered all the necessary supplies. We prepared to leave the following morning. Mara would be coming with us. Leif didn’t want to leave her behind, and once the Keep’s glass workshop was operational, there would be plenty for her to do. My mother was thrilled. I could see by the glint in her eyes, she viewed Mara’s move as the next step toward grandchildren. Mara rode with Leif on Rusalka. The trip to the Citadel would be a day longer because of the added weight on the horse. My emotions wavered from happiness at having my sister nearby to dread. Before this trip to Booruby, I kept meaning to send a message to Mara about Aydan’s need for an assistant, but I never did. Since Leda turned into such an accomplished helper, the problem was solved. I squirmed in my saddle as understanding revealed my childish jealousies. My reluctance had two main reasons. The Keep was my domain and I was unwilling to share it with her. And I didn’t want to be Mara’s Little Sister again. On the road for six days, Ulrick studied her as fellow male travelers tried to flirt, and as everyone, even the women, tripped over themselves to accommodate her. It was hard to get angry at her. She didn’t seek the attention; she shooed away Leif’s efforts to do everything for her. We arrived at the Magician’s Keep without trouble. Mara was given a guest room. The equipment we had ordered before leaving had been delivered in our absence. Construction on the workshop had begun. The new building, built with marble blocks, was located in the northeast corner of the Keep between the pasture and Zitora’s tower. As predicted, the Stable Master was livid over Ulrick’s horse theft. “… had to beg—do you hear me, boy?—beg Councillor Sandseed to send me another right away. How could he trust me with a new one, when I lost the other!” “I did you a favor,” Ulrick said. His reply rendered the Stable Master speechless. A sight I’ve never seen. Impressive. And scary. “Moonlight is a fantastic horse. Too good for the Commander. You should save him for a special student or future Master Magician or even for yourself.” Ulrick’s matter-of-fact tone didn’t waver despite the flaming red color spreading on the Stable Master’s cheeks. “I’ll come exercise him for you until you find a rider.” And with a jaunty wave goodbye, Ulrick swept out of the barn. I hustled to catch up. There was no way I wanted to be anywhere near the Stable Master when he finally exploded. I reported the whole spider incident to Zitora and she was most anxious for me and Ulrick to start experimenting with magic and glass. “I’ll ask Master Bloodgood if he knows about another magician in history who could transform magic into a useful object,” she said. “Meanwhile, you should hire Mara to help you in the glass shop. There’s lots of work to be done.” “Hire?” “Yes. Offer her room and board plus a weekly wage—the accountant should know how much. You’ll need a manager to keep track of supplies and work schedules while you and Ulrick concentrate on learning about your powers.” I knew all along what we would use the shop for, but when Zitora talked about managers and schedules, the reality of the situation hit me. It wouldn’t be a hobby, but serious research. Results would be expected, and I could no longer look to another to lead the way. Perhaps we should hire Aydan as a consultant. Squashing my fears into a hard lump that sank to the pit of my stomach, I asked, “Should we pay Ulrick, too?” “No. We’ll grant him student status and a stipend until you determine the extent of his magical abilities. Then we’ll decide how to proceed.” As I returned to the glass shop, I thought there wasn’t much difference between being a student and a worker. Mara would be given a small apartment in the staff quarters and Ulrick would be assigned a room in the apprentice wing. The stipend was smaller than wages, but not by much. Ulrick should be happy with the new arrangements. He would no longer be a guest, but a member of the Keep. It didn’t take long for Ulrick, Mara and I to settle into a pleasant routine. And a funny thing happened while Mara worked with us. The population of the Keep would introduce Mara as Opal’s sister to others, and she never batted an eye. She even boasted with pride over being my sister. I berated myself for my previous misgivings and pettiness. In those few days, Mara showed me how I should have behaved. And even though there had been no sign of Sir or Tricky or blue-eyed Devlen for a month, Ulrick accompanied me everywhere. On the first day of the cold season, I received a message from Zitora to come to her office. Alone. I told Ulrick I would meet him at the glass shop after the meeting. “I’ll just wait outside her office, so you can do your secret magician stuff with Master Cowan,” Ulrick said. He tried to keep his tone light, but his voice held a sharp edge. “It’s not secret magician stuff.” “Then what is it?” “I don’t know.” “My point.” Ulrick escorted me to Zitora’s office. He leaned on the wall next to the entrance. She waved me in, then stared at the door. It swung shut. A split second of jealousy pricked me. “Handy.” “Lazy. It’s been a long night.” She leaned back in her chair, rubbing her eyes. She wore the same clothes as yesterday. “You’ll need to let Ulrick and Mara work on the shop without you for a few days.” “Why?” “Remember the conversation the Masters had about the Moon Clan?” “Vaguely.” It had been close to three weeks ago and so much had happened since then. “We’ve discovered there’s more going on with the Moon Clan than the illegal border crossings and a possible assassination attempt on Councillor Moon. There’s a whole faction who want Councillor Moon to step down and the faction’s leader to take her place. Rumors of a civil war have reached us and now—” Zitora waved a scroll in the air “—now I have a report saying this group is selling illegal Ixian goods in the Citadel to raise money for weapons.” “Bold.” “Not necessarily. There’s always been a black market for certain Ixian goods—swords, tea, linen, spices. When we had no political relationship with Ixia, the officials at the Citadel turned a blind eye to the sales of Ixian merchandise. Once we negotiated a trade treaty with them, all the ‘contraband’ became readily available. It was no longer a problem.” “What are they selling now?” I asked. “Diamonds.” The gemstones were a hot commodity in Sitia. Many riches were mined from the Emerald Mountains, but, so far, no diamonds have been found. “The Commander keeps a tight control on the sale of his diamonds to Sitia, so there must be a new mine,” Zitora said. “With diamonds being sold on the black market, there’ll be all sorts of problems.” “Correct. What kind of trouble?” “Another lesson?” I asked. “I can’t pass up an opportunity to teach. You’re my first student and I endeavor to be a good mentor.” She rolled her hand in the air urging me to continue. “All right. The black market diamonds will be cheaper, so buyers will go to them instead of the legitimate sellers. Word of diminishing sales will get back to the Commander, and he’ll want to know why. If the Sitian Council doesn’t stop the illegal sales, it could strain our relationship with Ixia. Plus, the money is going to the Moon Clan to pay for a potential coup.” Each clan decided how they chose their Councillor. A few clans held elections, others followed family lines and the rest had committees who made the decision. The Moon Clan used a matriarchal system. It was understood the Councillor’s daughter would be the next Council member, but birth order didn’t always match the best candidate for the job. On occasion, sisters fighting for the position have been recorded in their history. “There’s more,” Zitora said. I thought about the people buying the diamonds. “Bigger chance for deceit. With more diamonds available from various sources, the buyers could be conned into purchasing glass.” “Can you tell the difference?” “I don’t know. I’ve never touched a diamond before.” “I have one for you to examine.” “Why?” “Fisk needs someone he can trust to help him find the black market diamond sellers’ source.” “Why would he care?” No answer from the Master Magician. Putting myself in Fisk’s place, I tried to see the situation from his point of view. “His customers are getting conned, which brings suspicion on the Helper’s Guild. And having the Citadel’s guards arrest all the sellers wouldn’t stop the source from going to another town to sell his diamonds. And the arrests would upset the legitimate people in the market. Fisk could lose business.” I considered for a moment. “Better to have everything resolved without the general population knowing about it.” “Right. So we find the source and trace the new diamonds back to their point of origin before we arrest anyone.” Her serious tone and emphasis on the word new caused my heart to squeeze a warning. This was no longer a hypothetical discussion. “Who will trace the source?” “We have a magician in mind to act as our buyer, but she’ll need an expert with her so she doesn’t follow the wrong trail and end up with glass. Fisk trusts you. So does Yelena. She agreed with this plan.” “I … But …” “You’ll have the perfect cover.” When I didn’t respond, she continued. “Diamonds enhance magical powers. You need many large stones together to increase the magic, so it wouldn’t be out of the ordinary for a rich magician to buy a bunch of diamonds.” A sense of having been maneuvered into a corner washed over me. I wanted to be part of the Keep’s network of magicians. Wasn’t this exactly what I would be asked to do when I finished my training? I could say no, but I would probably never be considered for another mission. However, my mission for the Stormdancers had bordered on a disaster, and still wasn’t resolved. “What about Sir and Tricky?” I asked. “They haven’t been found yet.” “The magician you’ll be working with is strong enough to handle them.” Last question. “Who’s the magician?” “Pazia Cloud Mist.” 19 I GROANED. Pazia detested me as much as I disliked her. It would be difficult to become a team and convince a black market diamond seller to reveal his source. “What’s the problem?” Zitora asked. “She thinks I’m worthless. A One-Trick Wonder,” I blurted. “You’re not …” She paused. “Hearing it from me won’t change your perceptions. If you want to believe you’re a One-Trick Wonder, fine by me. Just don’t say it to me ever again. Understand?” Stunned by her order, I drew in a breath before replying. “Yes, sir.” “Good.” Zitora leaned forward in her chair. “You’re an adult now, Opal. In order to be successful with this mission, you’ll have to overcome your differences with Pazia. She’s a strong magician. Maybe a Master. I’m certain she will behave in a professional manner toward you, especially since you’re going to pretend you’re best friends when you meet the diamond sellers today.” “Today?” Why did troublesome events have to happen so fast? Why couldn’t I digest the information first, and then spring into action? “This afternoon you’re to meet with Fisk and Pazia at the Unity Fountain. Do you know where it is?” “Yes.” “Once there, Fisk’ll take you to a place to change and be briefed before he leads you to the seller. Do you have any questions?” “Change into what?” “Expensive clothes and obnoxious jewels. You’re supposed to be rich, too.” “How will I tell if the diamonds are fake?” Zitora opened her desk drawer and removed a small box. She handed it to me. “Open it.” I lifted the red velvet-covered lid. Inside a diamond the size of my fingernail sparkled. Clear as glass, yet the light played deep within the stone, obscuring the red velvet behind it. I marveled at the reflections jumping from the many facets on the diamond. “You can touch it.” Amusement colored her voice. I pinched the diamond between my thumb and forefinger. Cold stabbed my finger pads and a brief image of snow-covered mountains filled my mind. Then heat seared my hand as the mental image transformed into burning mountains. A mere second later, the gem cooled to body temperature, and a slight vibration hummed against my skin. My tongue stuck to dry teeth. I swallowed, and the hard motion scratched my throat. “Do you feel a … flash when you touch it?” I asked. “Flash?” “Feel cold through your fingers and get a mental image?” “No. If I charged it with magic, I could feel the potential, but right now, it’s inert.” She studied me. “Does the flash mean you’ll be able to tell the difference?” “Yes.” I closed the lid. “Any other questions?” Zitora placed her hand on my shoulder. Her comforting gesture reminded me of Ulrick. “What should I tell Ulrick?” “Nothing about the diamonds. The fewer people who know, the better.” “He’s not going to like the idea,” I said. Even though there was plenty for him to do in the glass shop. Equipment and supplies were being delivered every day. Soon the shop would be ready to use. “You’re just going to have to convince him.” She smirked. “Good luck with that. He has an overdeveloped stubborn streak and has decided to be your protector. Ditching him will be your hardest task today.” “Thanks.” I couldn’t keep the sarcasm from my voice. Unaffected, Zitora’s smile grew wider. “He’s rather handsome when he’s mad. All those tight muscles, and those sparks of anger shooting from his captivating eyes.” “Really? I hadn’t noticed.” A wave of heat flushed. I blamed the sensation on a lingering effect of the diamond and not on the mental image of Ulrick’s strong arms wrapping around me. She laughed, knowing I lied. I tried not to blush when I left Zitora’s office and spotted Ulrick waiting. He fell into step beside me as we headed toward the glass shop. “What did she say?” he asked, once we were away from the administration building. I decided to stick to the truth as much as possible. “She’s sending me on another mission.” “And?” “I’m going to be busy this afternoon, so you’ll have to work without me. And don’t worry,” I rushed to add, “I’ll be with a very powerful magician.” “Can you tell me what the mission is?” “Sorry, no.” “I was right. Secret magician stuff.” “You were right, but the way you say it …” “Flippant? Irreverent?” he asked. “Like it’s a big joke, something to sneer at.” He increased his stride, staring straight ahead. I hurried to keep up. Just when I thought the subject of my mission had dropped, Ulrick said, “I’m jealous. I want to be involved.” He swept his arm through the air, indicating the people around us. “I want to be a magician helping Sitia. Making your assignment a joke is so I won’t feel …” His hands flicked as he gathered his thoughts as if they were molten glass. “So I won’t feel left out. Growing up, I was always left out. The six-year age gap between me and my older brother was too big and, since my glassmaking skills were limited, I was excluded from many family activities.” He drew in a deep breath. “I shouldn’t vent my frustration on you. At least allow me to escort you to the meeting site.” His story echoed my years at the Keep as the odd woman out. Sympathizing with Ulrick, I agreed. It was too early for my rendezvous with Fisk so we wandered through the Citadel, stopping on occasion so I could explain the significance of a statue or fountain we discovered. Surrounded by the white marble wall, the interior of the rectangular Citadel had six districts, each with its own personality. The Keep occupied the entire northeast district. With the market in the center position between two areas, the north and south districts mirrored each other. Comprised mostly of businesses, warehouses and factories, the buildings and streets arched around the market and radiated out like rings around a bull’s eye. A confusing grid of narrow streets and dead ends could be found in the northwest and southwest residential districts. The labyrinth was a direct result of accommodating the Citadel’s growing population. The southeast district contained a number of administrative buildings and Council Hall, as well as the posh residencies of the Councillors. The Unity Fountain was also located in the southeast. By the time we arrived, Fisk was already there. He waited with his apprentice Jayella. Ulrick ignored the others to admire the fountain. Surrounded by waterspouts, an immense dark green sphere with holes rested on a pedestal. The jade sphere had been mined from the Emerald Mountains as a solid block. Inside the sphere were ten other spheres; each one smaller than the next. If the carving was sawed in half, the cross section would resemble a tree’s growth rings. All the layers had been carved from the one stone—through the holes and from the outside in. “Unbelievable,” Ulrick said. “I’ve learned about this. Each sphere represents one of the Sitian clans, but it’s more impressive than I imagined. The craftsmanship to carve this …” “Five years of hard work,” Fisk said. “A celebration of the clans uniting.” He cocked his head to the side, considering. “Interesting. If one of the spheres inside would crack, the others would hold it together.” Fisk met my gaze, and I wondered if there was a hidden meaning in his words. “We need to keep our appointment,” Fisk said to Ulrick. “Keep Opal safe,” he ordered, frowning. “Your business will suffer if rumors about a client being harmed in your care surfaced.” The friendly softness in Fisk’s demeanor hardened. “Are you threatening me?” No answer. “You know nothing about my business or about me. Do you?” Again no answer, just a stubborn set to Ulrick’s jaw. “In that case, your insult was inadvertent and due to ignorance. Opal, when you have time, please educate this man about loyalty and honor. Come.” He turned and strode from the fountain’s plaza. I sensed Ulrick’s molten anger, but couldn’t mollify him now. I hurried after Fisk. He led me down an unremarkable side street. About halfway, he turned into a narrow alley. The alley’s sole purpose appeared to be providing a shortcut to the next street, but Fisk disappeared. When I reached the same spot, I found a tight alcove. To a casual observer, it looked like a dead end. But near the back was a small door. We had to walk down a few steps and bend over to get inside the building. “Guild headquarters. We don’t like too many people to know where we are. Although—” he moved around the large room, lighting lanterns “—now that we’re getting older, we’ll need to get a bigger door.” As the light illuminated the room, I noticed several desks, a chalkboard and maps hanging from the walls. A detailed layout of the market spanned an entire wall. Letters and a few easy mathematics problems were written on the chalkboard. Fisk noticed my interest. “We teach the younger members how to read and do simple math. Also about money. What items cost and how to make change. Speaking of change, you need to get dressed. I have clothes laid out in the back room.” He pointed to the far wall. “What about Pazia? Wasn’t she supposed—” The headquarters’ door opened. Pazia stepped through and closed it behind her. “Supposed to meet you at the fountain?” “Did you read my thoughts?” I demanded. “I had to make sure there were no surprises in here. And no, I wasn’t planning on meeting you at the fountain. I know my way here. This isn’t the first time I’ve worked with Fisk on a mission for the Masters.” Her dig touched the weak spot in my heart, being deemed unworthy to participate in important missions. But not anymore. I found a measure of comfort in my present situation, amazing given the circumstances. “Why aren’t you dressed yet?” She sighed dramatically. “Bad enough I have to work with you. The least you could do is be ready on time.” Shrugging off her cloak, she flung it onto one of the desks. The material of Pazia’s clothes had been woven with an expensive linen-and-silk blended thread. Her tailor’s efforts enhanced her slim waist and petite stature. She pulled her long golden hair up and clamped it in place with a jeweled clip. I headed toward the back room, but her next words stopped me in midstride. “Fisk, are you sure we need her? I grew up in the mines. I can spot a fake ruby at twenty paces. She can’t be trusted.” “I trust her. Besides, rubies are not diamonds. And it would be suspicious for you to be alone. Rich ladies always go shopping in pairs.” I tuned out her irritated reply as I entered the back room. On a small cot lay a beautiful indigo-colored blouse and black skirt made from the same material as Pazia’s clothes. I fingered the lace trim on the skirt. Fisk had even provided a pair of high-heeled shoes and an assortment of jewelry and hair clips. Dressing as fast as possible, I squeezed a sapphire ring onto my finger, and covered my wrists with a distracting array of ruby-encrusted bracelets. The other gemstones throbbed when I touched them, but nowhere near the intensity of the diamond. I left my hair down. Just wearing the luxurious clothes and gemstones helped me to assume my role as Pazia’s friend. Of course her sneer of contempt quickly drove those feelings away when I joined them in the main room. She huffed and pointed to a seat. “Sit.” When I hesitated, she said, “I’m a professional, unlike you. I won’t hurt you.” I ignored her reference to the burning incident and sat. She combed my hair and twisted a section into a knot at the back of my head. “Clip,” she ordered. I handed her one and she secured the knot. “We are going to meet a number of diamond merchants. Fisk will introduce us, but won’t come with us to negotiate. As a rule, the Helper’s Guild avoids the black market. Since I’m a very good customer, he’ll bend the rules for me.” She pulled the rest of my hair back. “Clip.” When she finished, she examined the rest of my clothing. “Move the ring to your right hand, third finger if possible, and all the bracelets go on your left arm.” As I complied, she continued her lecture. “I’ll do all the talking. Your role is to let me know which diamonds are real by simply agreeing with me. I’ll ask your opinion on a certain stone and you’ll either like it or not. If you don’t like it, I’ll know it’s a fake. Understand?” “Yes.” “Good. Try not to do or say anything to jeopardize our mission. I’m not as resourceful as Liaison Yelena.” Another jab. Instead of bracing for the rest of the insinuation Pazia made whenever Yelena’s name was mentioned and ignoring it, I decided to beat her to the comment. “You’re right. You aren’t as powerful or as smart as Yelena. I never would have betrayed you the way I did the Soulfinder. You would have been dead in a heartbeat.” “Then you admit it!” Her eyes lit with triumph despite my insult. I shrugged, pretending nonchalance. “Facts are facts, Pazia. And it’s no big deal. If Yelena had felt so deceived, it’s doubtful she would still be my friend.” I turned away from her, not bothering to note her reaction. As I retrieved my cloak from the back room, I marveled over my bold comments. Did I believe them? I knew the truth of my actions and what had led me to them, and realized my guilt lay not in what I had done, but why I had done it. A step in the right direction? I hoped. “That ratty thing won’t do.” Pazia eyed my cloak, appearing to be unaffected by my outburst. “It’s all I have.” Plus my sais were nestled inside the lining, within easy reach. She removed a jeweled peacock brooch from her cloak. Sapphires and emeralds decorated the feathers of the bird. Pazia pinned it onto my garment. “There. If anyone notices what’s under that beauty, we’ll joke you wear the cloak for sentimental reasons. Blushing would help. And don’t cover your clothes.” I followed Pazia and Fisk from the Guild headquarters to the market. The black market sellers weren’t so bold to have stands, but their agents roamed the area, seeking customers. Fisk approached one man. Dressed as a farmer and acting as if he was in town for a shopping trip, the man regarded Fisk with surprise. He scanned Pazia and me with suspicion. She kept her look of bored impatience. Quite an accomplishment and, knowing I couldn’t match her, I settled for appearing nonthreatening. Too low for me to hear, Fisk and the agent talked for a moment and the conversation ended with a defeated shrug from Fisk, as if giving in. The man eventually agreed and led us to a thin building one street away from the market. The four-story structure was wedged between a warehouse and a shoe factory. He opened the door into a receiving room, introduced us to another man inside and left. “What can I do for you?” the new man asked us. He wore a well-made linen tunic cinched with a gold mesh belt. His brown pants complemented the tunic’s light sand color. A large emerald ring on his pinkie finger glinted in the sunlight. “I want to see your diamonds,” Pazia demanded, stepping forward. “The bigger the better.” “Why?” “Does it matter?” She jingled a bulging leather pouch. He flashed his teeth in delight. “No. Follow me.” Toward the back of the building was a showroom without windows. Lanterns blazed, illuminating the glass cases filled with jewelry. I scanned the items. Bracelets, rings and necklaces sparkled with every color stone from precious to semiprecious. No diamonds. The seller draped a black velvet cloth over the cases, disappeared behind the counter and retrieved a silk bag. He shook out an array of large diamonds, then arranged them on the velvet with tweezers. “These are the biggest I have right now. But if you need a particular size, I can always order more.” He picked up a thumb-sized round stone and turned it so the candlelight would reflect off the facets. Pazia seemed dazzled by the gem. She reached for it, but the man drew it back. “Ten golds. That’s two golds cheaper than what you’d pay in jewelers’ circle. I’ll even give you a companion stone—” he pointed to a pea-sized diamond “—for free.” He launched into a hard sell. Pazia shook her head, but eventually just interrupted him. “I’m not buying anything unless I can look at it closer.” He placed the stone on the cloth near her. When she touched it, he frowned. “Pretty.” She held it up to the light then handed it to me. The man scowled, but she ignored him. “What do you think?” she asked me. I hefted the stone. While it scattered the light in a pleasing way, it didn’t flash. Glass. I placed it back on the counter and touched the others. The same. “Pretty but ordinary,” I said. “You need a diamond with more pizazz.” “I can order anything you want,” the seller offered. “No thank you. I was hoping to find something today.” Pazia was quick to leave despite the man’s insistence. Out in the street, I drew in a breath of fresh air. “Now what?” “We find Fisk and another seller.” The afternoon hours sped past in a blur. The showrooms all seemed identical; the sellers all had similar smooth personalities. Prices and incentives remained constant. And they all offered us glass. Exceptional glass of top quality that I haven’t seen before, but glass all the same. Not a real diamond to be found. As the sun sank into the horizon, we entered the last shop. This time a man and woman teamed up to make the sale. The woman was effusive with her compliments to Pazia. “Look how the diamond pendant lights up your gorgeous eyes,” the saleswoman said, holding a mirror for Pazia to see her reflection. “Why the green just comes alive doesn’t it?” Pazia beamed, getting sucked in. The diamonds were all mounted in jewelry. The woman slid a huge marquise-cut stone onto Pazia’s right index finger. “The ring will highlight your elegant hands. No one will be able to stop staring at you.” Before the saleswoman could put any more jewelry on Pazia, I bent to examine the ring. “I don’t like this setting,” I said. “Do you have any loose stones?” The woman glanced at the man behind the counter. He withdrew a tray full of diamonds of various sizes and shapes. I touched each one with a finger, but again every one was beautifully cut and polished glass, which caused me to wonder who manufactured them. Without the magic flash, I would have been hard-pressed to call these fakes. “I don’t like any of them,” I said. Pazia pouted with disappointment. The woman ramped up her sales pitch, disagreeing with me. “Look at her.” She pointed to me. “You probably picked out your friend’s clothes only to have her ruin your efforts with that tacky cloak. You, my dear, are a ray of sunlight who deserves to be glowing with diamonds. Don’t let her jealousy stop you. People will always be jealous of you. If you have it—flaunt it!” The saleswoman was skilled. She had pegged Pazia’s personality and would soon have a sale. “It’s getting late,” I said. “Your mentor at the Keep will be concerned. Why don’t you think it over and we can come back tomorrow.” “Excellent idea,” the woman said. “I just hope you get here before Councillor Jewelrose’s wife tomorrow. She’s been eyeing that ring, and her birthday is today. The Councillor is so sweet. He always gives her gold to buy her own presents. She’s my most loyal customer.” She tsked, removing the ring from Pazia’s finger. “But I’m sure I’ll be able to find you something …” A worried crease formed on Pazia’s forehead. I pulled on her arm, guiding her to the door. I waved with my other hand. “Thanks for the offer.” The door opened before we reached it. Two men entered. They blocked our way. Swords hung from weapon belts. Apprehension slid down my spine, lumping in my guts. “Your friend isn’t ready to leave,” the man on the left said with a slight lisp. His bottom lip had been cut. Blood-soaked threads from the stitches protruded from the wound. “Yes, she is.” I nudged Pazia with an elbow. “Her mentor is waiting for her. You don’t want to make us late. Her mentor has powerful friends.” Come on, Pazia, I thought, say something, do something. Bloody Lip stepped closer. “I’m sure her mentor will understand about the … delay. Our girl spent so much time helping you, I’m sure you don’t want to be rude by rushing off. In fact, we have a whole other room filled with … surprises. Bex, why don’t you show this lady—” he stabbed a finger in my direction “—the back room while her friend completes her purchase.” Bex reached for me. I dropped all pretenses and yanked my sais from my cloak. Ramming the weapons’ knobs into the man’s solar plexus, I shouted, “Pazia, help me.” The man gasped, but recovered fast. They both pulled their swords. The saleswoman brandished a knife. I remained close to the men, deflecting their blades toward the ground. Pazia stood immobile. “Fire,” I yelled. Finally she moved. Small flames erupted on the men’s shirts. The woman squealed. Chaos manifested into four pairs of flailing limbs, swatting at the growing fire on their clothes. The motion reminded me of the flesh-eating beetles Tricky had used to attack me. Suppressing a shudder, I grabbed Pazia’s hand and hauled her from the room. I didn’t let go of her until we reached the market. We paused to catch our breath and I put my sais away. Pazia’s flushed cheeks and the wild glint in her eyes meant either fear or excitement. Fisk appeared at our side. “What happened?” “They tried to use strong-arm tactics.” I tucked a few loose strands of hair behind my ear. “Not good. Did they have the required items?” “No. Except for Bloody Lip and Bex, they were just like the rest.” Fisk considered. “I’ll spread the word to my clients about the fake diamonds, but the seller who used the swordsmen will be out of business by tomorrow.” “I thought you didn’t work with black market dealers.” “I don’t. But I’ll make sure they know about Bloody Lip and Bex. The other dealers don’t want customers to be afraid to buy from the black market. It’s bad for business. I’ve no doubt when the others are aware of the situation, it will be taken care of in record time.” I mulled over the implications and decided I wouldn’t be upset to know Bloody Lip and Bex were run out of town. My thoughts then turned to the lack of real diamonds. “Do you think the rogue Moon Clan faction is funding their activities by selling these fake stones?” I asked Fisk. “Must be. We’ve run out of dealers to contact.” “They looked so real,” Pazia said. “I almost …” She sighed. “Someone is manufacturing them. Should we try and trace them back to the source?” I wondered if I could produce such high-quality glass. It would be an interesting challenge. “I can take you back to one of the dealers you met with today,” Fisk said. “Perhaps he’ll tell you his source.” “Let’s talk to Zitora first. See if she has any ideas.” I pulled my cloak tighter as an icy wind blew through the market, causing the lanterns along the street to pulse. A hint of moisture clung to the air with the promise of rain. We agreed to meet tomorrow afternoon. “Keep the clothes for now,” Fisk said, gesturing to my disguise. “And walk straight back to the Keep. The gossip is that two student magicians are looking to buy diamonds to enhance their magic. Play it up, so when you start asking for a big quantity of large diamonds no one is surprised.” Pazia and I headed toward the Keep. She had been subdued since we escaped from Bloody Lip. A few people walked along the quiet Citadel streets. I wondered how Ulrick’s day had gone. About a block before the Keep’s entrance, two men stepped from the shadows and approached us. 20 PAZIA GASPED AS the men drew closer, but I reached for my sais, wrapping my hands around the hilts. The motion helped steady my frantic heartbeat. “Magic, remember?” I whispered to Pazia. “You’re powerful.” “I’ve heard you two are looking for sparkles,” the man on the left said. He wore the plain gray coverall of a factory worker. Tools hung from his belt. Any one of them could be used as a weapon. His companion also wore coveralls, although the larger man’s were covered with dark stains. Blood or grease, it was hard to discern in the lantern light. I waited for Pazia to speak. When the silence lengthened to uncomfortable, I said, “We’re looking for real sparkles. If you don’t have anything good, we’re not interested in doing business.” The man nodded. “Thought so. Watched you go to all those others. You’re looking for magical sparkles. Question is, can you afford it?” “My family owns the Vasko mine,” Pazia said. I tried not to show my surprise. After all, I was supposed to be her friend. But the Vasko mine was famous for the quantity and quality of rubies, making the owners the richest people in Sitia. And she just took one hell of a risk, telling two strangers about her family connections. “Care to see our wares then?” he asked, grinning. Remembering our run-in with Bloody Lip, I asked, “Where?” “Right here.” He glanced at the big man. “Egg?” Egg removed a pouch from his pocket and handed it to his friend, who opened it and poured diamonds into his palm. The four diamonds caught the light and held it. About the size of a teaspoon, they were the largest stones we’d seen all day. “May I?” I asked. He nodded. I picked up one of the diamonds and almost dropped it. The stone flashed cold, stinging my mind with a vision of an icy plain. Cold burned through my fingers then settled into a steady vibration. I had the same reaction with the other three, and I hurried to return them to him. The salesman had been watching me. There was frank interest in his light brown eyes. “What do you think?” he asked. “They’re adequate, but we’re going to need bigger stones. The larger the better.” “Big?” he asked with an incredulous tone. “If you can’t supply them, perhaps we could negotiate with your supplier?” When he just stared at me, I added, “We’ll pay you a finder’s fee, of course.” “But, you’re students …” “Come on, Pazia, he’s wasting our time.” I pulled on her arm, but the man hurried to block our path. “Pazia Cloud Mist?” he asked as if afraid of the answer. She gave him a cold stare. “I told you my family owned the Vasko mine.” Color leaked from the man’s face. She studied him with an intense alertness. Kidnapping and ransoming Pazia would bring in more money than selling a few diamonds, provided they could capture her. Curare would work, but it was near impossible to find. “Can you help us or not? I have a riding lesson.” I gestured with impatience. “I’ll hook you up, but we get twenty percent of the purchase price as our fee.” “Ten percent,” I countered. “Eighteen.” “Twelve.” “Sixteen, or it’s not even worth our time.” “Fifteen.” He sighed. “Agreed. Let’s go then.” He started walking down the street. Away from the Keep. “Go where?” I asked. “To our supplier.” We followed him back the way we had come. I wondered if one of the black market dealers had tried to sell us fakes first and we didn’t give them enough time to bring out the real stones. I kept alert for any signs of Bloody Lip and Bex. We approached the alley where the black market dealers had their showrooms, but instead of leading us to one of them, the man knocked on the back door of another building. The building’s front was on Jewelers’ Circle. A person opened the door and the man explained our reason for being there. We were taken to a small room. Lanterns on a single table blazed. Black velvet covered the top. A woman entered. I caught a glimpse of the room beyond her before she shut the door, confirming my suspicions we were in one of the legitimate jewelry stores. The woman’s hair had been pulled into a complex knot behind her head. She scowled at the two salesmen. “Why did you bring them here?” she demanded. “They wanted to purchase big stones. But we still get our fifteen percent.” “If they can pay,” she said, giving us a pointed stare. “I don’t think the daughter of Vasko Cloud Mist will have any trouble with payment.” The man grinned with a greedy glint in his eyes. “We’ll leave you girls to work out the details.” He left with Egg right behind him. The woman perked up at hearing Pazia’s name, but she eyed my clothing, clearly not impressed with my display of wealth. “Let me guess. You’re two seniors from the Keep and you want to buy a few diamonds to help increase your magic.” She sighed. “I’ll sell you all you want, but let me warn you. The extra boost of power won’t help you to be assigned a cushy job when you graduate from the Keep.” I waited for Pazia to start, but again felt compelled to fill the lengthening silence. “We’re not interested in landing good assignments. We’re interested in obtaining diamonds of a specific size and quality.” “Why?” “Does it matter?” She considered. “No. Tell me what you want and I’ll find it for you.” “No. I have to see what is available. I can’t quantify our needs with numbers, but with feelings.” I waited for the inevitable disbelief. But her posture softened and she grew wistful. “I understand. I’ve been a jeweler all my life and there are certain gems that just … speak to me.” Unable to stifle my curiosity, I asked, “Why are you selling black market diamonds then?” “The Commander of Ixia gives us so few stones I can’t meet the demands of my customers. When I was offered a chance to bring in more, I jumped. If not, I would have lost business.” “Do the other jewelers sell them, too?” “I don’t know for sure, but I suspect they do.” “Does the Helper’s Guild know?” “We’ve been doing business decades longer than the Guild. If you need a Guild member to help you shop, then you’re not a loyal customer and not worth risking discovery.” She narrowed her eyes at me. “You’re asking a lot of questions.” “You’re not the only one taking a risk. For all I know you could be working with the Sitian authorities.” “The same could be said of you.” The saleswoman regarded me as if she were assessing the quality of a gemstone. “What’s your name?” “Opal Cowan.” I couldn’t think of any reason to lie and any hesitation would increase her suspicion. She cocked her head to the side. “The glass magician. No wonder you spotted the fakes.” She gestured to Pazia. “This is what you’re doing now? Making sure your friend doesn’t get conned? I thought the Master Magicians would have something better for you to do.” “I’m still in school.” The saleswoman nodded as if she understood. “All right. My supplier is delivering stones in the next couple of days. I’ll ask him about your request and we’ll see what we can do for you. Stop back in four days. Come to the rear door before the lamplighters get to the lanterns in the alley.” “Thank you …?” I stopped, realizing I didn’t know her name. “Elita Jewelrose.” Elita escorted us to the back entrance of her store. In the alley we heard the click of multiple locks. Pazia and I walked to the Keep. The hour had grown late. Only a few people hustled along the empty streets. For a while the silence hung heavy between us. A few blocks from the Keep, Pazia said in a churlish tone, “You can try to tell everyone I was surprised by the men who attacked us, and I was completely sucked in by the saleswoman. But no one will believe you.” She was right. I laughed. “You can pretend all you want, but without me you would be wearing a gaudy piece of glass on your finger. I know it and you know it. I don’t need to tell anyone else.” “You don’t have anyone to tell anyway. You think you’re so much better than the rest of us—we’re not worth your time.” I stopped. “Hold on. You’re the one who thinks she’s so powerful and special.” “No. I don’t think. I know. I am more powerful than all my classmates and teachers. But I treat everyone equally. I’ve made friends.” “Equally? What a laugh. You’ve been nasty to me since the first day!” “That’s because you thought you were too good for us. All you did was help the Soulfinder imprison the Warpers and you were lavished with special attention. And for what?” Pazia rounded on me. “One deed. One trick. No other talents and you just admitted to being a betrayer. You don’t deserve to be a student at the Keep. You’ve been given a free ride. And you didn’t even have the decency to be humble about your good fortune. No. You expected it and expected everyone to fawn over you. Well, I wasn’t going to do it.” With a grunt of disgust, Pazia strode up the street. I hurried after her. My thoughts swirled in my mind. I didn’t act as if I deserved special treatment. What did she expect me to do? Leave the Keep? She slowed and I almost ran into her. “Seems you have someone fooled by your noble routine.” Pazia pointed to a dark shape. A person waited by the Keep’s gates. As we came closer, his features and agitation grew clearer. I steeled myself for the unavoidable lecture. Ulrick shot Pazia a sharp look. “You trust her to keep you safe?” Agitated by Pazia’s accusations, I clamped down on a sarcastic reply. “I’m here aren’t I? Why are you here?” I immediately regretted my harsh tone when he looked at me as if I had slapped him. “It’s late. I was concerned when you didn’t return for dinner. Guess I shouldn’t have bothered.” He turned on his heel and stormed into the Keep. Pazia smirked. “You’re going to drive him away, too, and prove my point about you.” Her comment was one too many. My emotions knotted and I could no longer think straight. “Shut up, Pazia. You think you have me all figured out. You have no idea. Let’s just keep focused on the task at hand.” I headed for the administration building and didn’t bother to note if she followed me or not. Zitora waited in her office. Two lanterns burned on her desk. She sprang from her seat the moment she saw us. “Why have you been gone so long?” We alternated in telling her about our day. Pazia reported our findings in a factual manner, omitting the reason for Bex and Bloody Lip’s attack. “So all the black market diamonds are fakes? Interesting and surprising,” Zitora said. “Any guesses as to why?” “Elita mentioned having to keep up with her client’s demands,” I said. “Perhaps the illegal diamond seller is working both sides of the street. Sell real stones to the jewelers who can tell the difference and sell fakes to the black market dealers who can’t.” “A good scam,” Pazia agreed. “One that would pull in a ton of money.” “But do all the legitimate jewelers sell these illegal stones?” Zitora asked. Her comment reminded me about Elita’s agent. He and Egg knew we were searching for real diamonds. “Elita knows about the fakes. We don’t have any information about the other jewelers.” “Then we should find out.” Zitora settled into her chair. “You and Pazia keep your appointment with Elita. We’ll set up a watch on Elita’s back door to see if we can spot her diamond supplier.” A good plan. Yet I felt we had overlooked something vital. I reviewed the events of the day, searching for loopholes. “Fisk.” Zitora glanced up from her desk. “Fisk?” “We told him the black market diamonds are fakes. He planned to spread the word.” “Which might scare away the supplier,” Pazia said. “Go. Find Fisk. Make sure he keeps quiet,” Zitora ordered. “Now?” Pazia glanced at the darkness pressed against the window. “Yes.” We hurried from Zitora’s office. “Take off your jewelry,” Pazia said. “This time we don’t want to attract attention.” “Do you know where Fisk is?” I pulled the ruby bracelets from my arm, unpinned the brooch and shoved them into my pocket. My hair clips followed. “He lives above the Guild’s headquarters with his family. Come on, I have an early class tomorrow.” We arrived at Fisk’s place without incident. Fortunately he was home and joined us in the Guild’s common room. We explained what happened with Elita. “She’s well respected. It’s hard to believe she’s selling contraband,” Fisk said. “Have you heard any rumors about the other jewelers?” I asked. “No. But I’ll make a few discreet inquiries.” “Have you told anyone about the fakes?” Pazia asked. “Not yet. I’ll wait until we have identified the supplier.” Fisk stiffened and held a hand up for silence. The door to the alley opened and a small figure slipped inside. Appearing to be around six years old, the boy signaled Fisk with a series of hand and arm gestures. “Thanks,” Fisk said. He flipped a silver coin to the boy. The child snatched it from midair and disappeared in the same furtive manner as he had arrived. “You were followed.” He frowned at Pazia as if waiting for an explanation. “I was in a hurry.” She seemed unconcerned. Unlike me. I was very concerned. “Do you know who?” “A man. A little taller and muscular than average, according to Tweet.” My mind raced over potential attackers. Blue Eyes, Tricky, Sir, Tal, it was quite a list. Worry gnawed on my guts, chewing holes. “You learned all that from a child named Tweet?” Pazia asked. Fisk gave her an icy stare. “Tweet is the only sound the boy can make since his mother cut out his tongue for crying too loud. She actually did him a favor by abandoning him on the street. Even without parents, the boy understands better than you the importance of keeping the location of our headquarters a secret.” “Fine. We’ll corner this man and find out why he followed us.” She made to leave. “Can’t you just read his thoughts?” I asked. She shooed away my question. “Too many people around.” “He’s waiting at the end of the alley. Not far at all,” Fisk said. Pazia’s annoyance turned to anger. “My ability to read minds is very limited. Happy now? Are you going to help us trap him or not?” In the end, Pazia and I left the headquarters and headed toward the Keep. Fisk would wait a couple minutes and then recruit a few Guild members to set up an ambush near the Six Heathers Inn. My legs wanted to run as fast as my heartbeat. Keeping my gait steady was an exercise in willpower. An itchy burning sensation bored into my back right between my shoulder blades, pushing me toward panic. I kept a sharp eye out for magical spiders and beetles. The Six Heathers Inn appeared deserted. No lights in the windows and not a sound escaped from inside. The beginning of the cold season wasn’t a popular time for visitors to the Citadel, but, even at this late hour, I expected to see a few customers. A shrill tweet split the air when we rounded a comer. Sounds of a scuffle ensued. We raced back to the noise. Five gangly children sat on top of a man. His indignant cries of protest died in his throat when he spotted me. “Kade?” 21 “ARE YOU GOING to call off your dogs or do I have to conjure a gale?” Kade asked. “It’s okay. He’s a friend,” I said to the children sitting on top of the Stormdancer. They didn’t move. Fisk appeared beside me. “Friend? Following someone at night isn’t friend-like behavior.” “I feel an extremely annoyed thunderstorm nearby,” Kade warned. “Actually, I’m the one annoyed. The thunderstorm could go either way.” Lightning flashed and thunder cracked. “I’m sure he has a good reason for being here,” I said. My ears rang from the clap. Fisk nodded and the children slid off Kade, disappearing into an alley. Kade stood and brushed the dirt from his brown pants. He wore a short tan-colored cape and had a leather backpack slung over his left shoulder. A few dead leaves clung to his shoulder-length hair, which appeared black in the semidarkness. “You do have a good reason, don’t you?” I asked. He scowled. “Considering two of our glassmakers have been murdered and the other is missing, I thought I would find you and give you fair warning you might be next.” I gaped as numbing fear flushed through my body. “Who …?” “Indra and Nodin … pushed from the cave … we found them on the beach.” He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment as if blocking an image. “Varun is nowhere to be found. Either his body washed away with the tide or he’s been kidnapped.” “When did this happen?” “End of the storm season—about a week ago. I really wish I could have used your glass orb to message Master Cowan.” “What—” “We can discuss it with Master Cowan in private.” Kade glanced at Pazia and Fisk. “I was just leaving the stables, when I spotted you crossing through the gate. I didn’t want to interrupt your evening with your friend, so I followed you to keep you safe.” He scanned the surrounding buildings with a rueful grin. All was dark, and a low rumble of thunder sounded in the distance. “Laid low by five street kids, though. I’m not much of a protector.” “You would have used the storm to escape,” I said. Seeing Fisk and Pazia’s confusion, I introduced Kade to them. Fisk’s eyes held a question. “This changes nothing,” I said to him. “We’ll keep our appointment with Elita in four days.” “Good. See you then.” Fisk walked away. Pazia didn’t hesitate to take Kade’s arm and lead him toward the Keep. She chatted with him, asking questions about being a Stormdancer. I followed a step behind. My thoughts churned as my emotions seesawed from apprehension to grief. Questions without answers plagued me and I hustled Kade and Pazia along, hoping to get him alone. Once inside the Keep, Pazia wanted to go with us to Zitora’s office. “You have an early class tomorrow,” I reminded her. “This is just glass stuff. Boring to you, I’m sure.” She said a warm good-night to Kade, shot me a frozen glare and headed to her rooms. “I take it she’s not a good friend,” he said. We climbed the stairs to the administration building. “We’re working together on another project.” Foreboding silence settled on me as I escorted Kade to Zitora’s office. As expected, a strip of lantern light glowed under the door. Zitora’s surprise at seeing Kade was quickly replaced by concern. “What happened?” she asked. He repeated his news. “Are you sure Indra and Nodin were murdered?” she asked. “You knew they might be in danger, didn’t you have extra security?” “We did. Two guards, both knocked unconscious. And there’s no doubt they were killed. If they fell, they would have landed closer to the base of The Cliffs. And we think they were unconscious when they were thrown from the cave and hit the beach.” Kade rubbed his leg. “It was late at night, and no one heard the ‘fall scream.’ It’s a distinctive shriek of fear that abruptly stops. It’s not a sound any Stormdancer can sleep through or ever forget.” He drew in a deep breath. “The next morning, we found their bodies and a few drops of blood and scuff marks on the floor of the cave. No signs of Varun.” His explanation left one question in my mind. “Why them and not me?” “The glassmakers were the only three besides you who knew the recipe. I’m guessing the Traitor Tal and his friends targeted Indra and her brothers after their attempt to coerce it from you didn’t work. Once they had the sand percentages, they would have only needed one glassmaker to help them craft orbs. The others …” Thrown away. I shuddered at the image of Tricky threatening Indra’s life if her brothers didn’t tell him the recipe. They were a loving family and would have obliged in a heartbeat. Varun probably volunteered to go with Sir’s group. I understood all too well the desire to sacrifice for another family member. Did he know the sacrifice was for nothing? Did he feel the hot knife of grief ripping his body to shreds when he realized nobody was saved? Not if they wanted his cooperation. He would learn the truth later. If he lived. My mind filled with what I had done to keep Tula safe. What I had promised to make the man stop. “Opal, snap out of it,” Zitora said. “Sorry.” I pulled my thoughts to the problem at hand. “As we speculated before, the group wants to either put the Stormdancers out of business or use the orbs to bribe us.” Kade paused as if deciding how much information to share with us. “The glassmakers have always kept the orb’s exact recipe to themselves. As the strongest Stormdancer, my sister knew it and I planned to ask Indra … Well, you know how crazy this season has been. But if we can’t make orbs, then we would be at the mercy of those that could.” “I can teach your clan members the recipe,” I said. “Exactly! And that’s why you’re still in danger and why I’m here to warn you. I’m sure Sir wouldn’t hesitate to eliminate you so the Stormdancers have no other recourse.” My heart flipped. “Then I should tell you both the orb recipe. It’s forty—” “Write it down. Tell Master Cowan,” Kade said. “I don’t want to know it just yet.” I searched his face. Grim determination pulled the corners of his mouth taut. His amber eyes darkened as if a storm brewed. “You’re planning to go after them?” I asked. “Yes.” “But what about teaching the new glassmakers?” “It’s the cold season. While the storms are mild in comparison to the cooling season, the water is high and rough. It’s safer to stay away from the coast until the warming season. Then you can come and help a new crew. If you would?” “Of course.” “Do you know where Sir’s group is?” Zitora asked him. “No. They haven’t been seen since Opal burned down their workshop. But we know they’re not in Stormdance territory or the Krystal Clan’s land.” “You still have nine more territories to search plus the Citadel.” Zitora considered. “I could help you, but I’m embroiled in another problem. Perhaps you could wait?” “No, I’ll start. If you can join me when you have time, I would be most grateful.” “Sand suppliers,” I blurted. “What?” Kade asked. “Sir’s group would need to order the orb’s ingredients from suppliers. There aren’t many requests for lava flakes and Bloodgood’s red sand. You could talk to the suppliers, see if a purchase was made and where it was delivered.” “Opal, you’re a genius!” Kade grabbed me in a quick hug. At his touch, a connection between us sparked with an intense heat. He stepped away in surprise. The memory of when we linked through the orbs rose in my mind. If Zitora noticed our sudden awkwardness, she didn’t mention it. Instead, she said, “That’s an excellent idea. Opal, can you give Kade a list of suppliers?” “Yes. I can even introduce him to the merchants who have stands in the Citadel’s market. I’ll send a message to my father. He can check with the suppliers in Booruby.” “Great. Kade, you can stay at the Keep as long as you want. Let me know if you need anything.” “How about a bodyguard for Opal?” he asked. Zitora smiled. “She already has one. Opal, please escort Kade to the guest quarters, and show him where the dining hall is located.” As we left the administration building, Kade asked me about the bodyguard. “Was she talking about Pazia or Fisk?” “Neither.” I glanced around the darkened courtyard. Lamps lit the paths winding around the classroom studios and student barracks. The guest quarters were housed in two separate structures behind administration, kitty-corner to the back of the Keep’s main building. My rooms were in the southern tip of the east apprentice wing, close to both the guest lodgings and dining hall. I spotted Ulrick lurking in the shadows. He followed us as we walked along the path. The Stormdancer stiffened and raised his head as if scenting the wind. “Someone is behind us.” “I know. It’s my bodyguard.” It seemed silly for Ulrick to skulk about. I called to him, inviting him to join us. By Ulrick’s cold demeanor, I knew he was still upset with me. Yet the man did watch out for me; I would have to apologize to him later. I introduced him to Kade and had to stifle a laugh as the two men sized each other up. They were complete opposites. Looking even more broad-shouldered next to Kade’s lean physique, Ulrick’s perfect features lacked the calm confidence in Kade’s tanned face. “A Stormdancer?” Ulrick asked. “Shouldn’t you be dancing in the storm?” A legitimate question, but Ulrick’s tone implied a sneering disregard. “The season is over. I have other business to attend to,” Kade said without emotion. “What kind of business?” Kade glanced at me. His annoyance barely concealed. “He knows about Sir and Tricky,” I said. “Then perhaps you should fill him in on the new developments.” “What developments,” Ulrick asked. “Later,” I said as we arrived at the east guest quarters. I talked to the night manager. There was a suite empty. The manager offered to escort Kade to his rooms. Another questioning look and I assured Kade I would be fine. Ulrick hovered next to me in a protective stance. “Rest,” I said to the Stormdancer. “I’ll meet you after breakfast and show you the market.” Kade nodded, following the manager. Instead of going to his own rooms, Ulrick trailed me to mine. “Don’t you mean we’ll take him to the market?” he asked. Remembering my harsh words earlier and his efforts to keep me safe, I ignored his snide tone. “Of course.” “What did he mean by new developments?” I mulled over potential responses as we entered my apartment. Already overprotective, Ulrick wouldn’t leave me alone for a second if he knew Sir had murdered the glassmakers. Watering down Kade’s conviction that Sir’s group was involved, I explained about Indra and Nodin’s death and how they may have been killed. My attempts to lessen the threat failed to work. Ulrick stood in the middle of my living room and declared he would sleep on the couch. “Tomorrow I’ll request an armed guard to stay with you until those men are caught.” I opened my mouth to protest, but paused. There had been a time when I would have welcomed an armed guard by my side, when I would have reveled in Ulrick’s attention and concern for my welfare. Yet, I was irritated by his assumption that I couldn’t take care of myself. I escaped Tricky before, I could do it again. Could I? Doubt flared, but I reviewed the skills I’d learned since my last encounter with them. I still needed to explore a few more abilities and discover how to repeat the magic of trapping those spiders. Perhaps I wouldn’t be able to escape, but I had enough knowledge to avoid getting kidnapped in the first place. I hoped. “Ulrick, I understand your worry and I appreciate your efforts. I’m really sorry I snapped at you earlier. I think I know why I was angry at you. You assumed I couldn’t protect myself—wait.” I held a hand up to stop his words. “I am capable of defending myself. And I am being cautious, but I don’t think we need an armed guard following us around all day.” He considered my words. “This is the first time you’ve seemed confident about Sir and Tricky. Is it because that Stormdancer is here? Think he could better defend you with his magical powers?” I suppressed my desire to throttle him. “You missed the point completely! You’re acting …” The word stuck in my throat. He didn’t hesitate to say it. “Jealous?” When I nodded, he continued, “Now you’re missing the point. It isn’t jealousy. It’s fear.” “Fear?” Not the emotion I expected. “Yes. Fear. I’m afraid you’ll be hurt or killed. I’m afraid I won’t be able to protect you. I’m afraid I’ll lose you to another man.” 22 I NEEDED TO sit down. I’d heard other people talk about having to sit down when shocked by an event or revelation and I had dismissed the notion as pure exaggeration. Little did I realize the actual physical weakness. It felt as if my bones had dissolved and my muscles could no longer support my weight. “I tried to remain the friend.” Ulrick prowled around the room as he talked. “Remain the colleague you introduced to your family. The partner who was concerned about your safety. You kept me at arm’s length and I thought I would be content with our friendship.” He stopped and skewered me with an intent stare. “But I can’t do it anymore. Not when I saw you with that Stormdancer. I want more than friendship.” No sound escaped my throat. My body froze as my mind whirled, sorting through all the unexpected information. “Opal, what’s wrong?” Ulrick grabbed my arm. “You’re swaying. Sit down before you fall down.” He guided me to the couch. “Guess that’s the last thing you wanted to hear right now. You’ve made it clear to me you’re not interested.” When I sank into the cushions, I pulled Ulrick down beside me. His green eyes filled with alarm. “You weren’t the only one afraid,” I said. “I kept a distance on purpose.” I paused, thinking of Pazia’s comments, how she accused me of acting better than everyone. “I was afraid, too. Afraid of rejection. Afraid of …” My thoughts shied away from the fear lurking deep within my soul where I had shoved it over four years ago. Ulrick put an arm around my shoulders and drew me close. “Tell me what else you’re afraid of, so I can fix it.” I wished it was that easy. “Afraid of my reaction to your … ah … attentions. Another man …” “Raped you?” The muscles in his arm tensed, but he waited. “No.” I closed my eyes, not wanting to see his expression. “Tortured. Threatened.” The words burned my mouth. “I haven’t told anyone about it.” “Why not?” Ashamed, embarrassed and humiliated. I had been so cowed into submission, so eager to make him stop the pain; I would have done anything for him. “It’s … difficult.” I sucked in a breath, trying to keep the storm of emotions from overwhelming me. “Was this when you were kidnapped?” “Yes. Did someone tell you?” “Mara mentioned it and a few of the students. But they all said a woman held you.” “She had a partner.” Revulsion ripped through my body. “Was he caught?” “No, but he had to have been killed during the Warper Battle. He was a strong Warper and he wanted to use me for a ritual, but Alea wouldn’t let him. She needed me to trick …” “Yelena,” Ulrick finished. “I heard.” “And the worst part was … I was glad to do it.” There I said it. Shouldn’t I feel better? “I wanted to get away from him. I had no qualms about pricking Yelena with Curare.” I waited for the admonishment about putting myself before another. Or he would offer empty words of comfort, telling me how it all worked out in the end. I kept my eyes shut tight, bracing for his reaction. “Living with your decision must be hard. Nothing I or anyone can say will give you any peace. You must reconcile your actions in your heart. In the meantime, we’ll take it slow.” His hand stroked my cheek. I opened my eyes. He leaned closer and our lips met. A tender kiss, short and sweet. He smiled. “A good first gather.” I laughed at the glassmaking reference. Ulrick did spend the night on my couch, and I lay in my bed marveling over the turn of events. Thoughts of Kade also lingered. When we touched there had been that spark, yet he never indicated he wanted more. Ulrick and I had so much in common and his desire was evident. I touched my lips, remembering the kiss. After breakfast the next morning, Ulrick and I found Kade sitting on a bench outside the dining hall. A small child giggled as the Stormdancer created a tiny whirlwind. Dead leaves and dried grass swirled around the girl. She held her arms out and let the air flow through her chubby fingers. Pure delight shone in the girl’s eyes. Eventually her mother came looking for her and Kade let the whirlwind dissipate. The child had wandered away from the kitchen. She was so unrepentant and defiant, I guessed this wasn’t the first time she explored on her own, nor would it be the last. Her mother would have her hands full until the child was old enough for school. A half smile lingered on Kade’s lips as we strolled to the market. “The girl will have quite a story to tell her friends,” I said to him. “Why?” “Since I’ve been here, a Stormdancer has never visited the Keep, and usually the students and magicians are too busy to entertain the staff’s children.” “That’s a pity. Adults are so jaded when it comes to magic. Nothing compares to seeing a child’s wonder and delight over simple tricks. Makes me appreciate my skills and reminds me not to take them for granted.” When we arrived at the market, Kade and I talked to the sand merchants while Ulrick kept watch. Fisk appeared to see if I needed anything, and he led us to two more dealers I didn’t know about. The morning progressed with little success. None of the suppliers had filled an order for lava flakes in the past year. Kade would need to visit the merchants in Mica and Fulgor. As we navigated the crowded square, a blacksmith hailed Ulrick. The jacks we’d ordered for the glass shop were ready. Kade and I waited outside while Ulrick inspected the tools. “You both are happier today,” Kade said. “Did you settle your differences?” He kept his tone neutral. “We did.” I studied him, looking for any sign he may be unhappy. Any indication that his reasons for coming to the Keep included seeing me. “Good. You’re well matched.” His demeanor remained impartial. Again I remembered Pazia’s criticism. Perhaps I had been the one to keep my distance from him. I took a chance. “We do have a lot in common. Same hometown. Same enjoyment from working with glass. But he lacks a certain … spark.” Surprise touched Kade’s eyes for a moment before he resumed his bland manner. “Sparks are similar to lightning strikes and are harmful if you get too close. Also the problem with thunderstorms, they move with the wind and have other … ah … obligations. It’s best for you to bask in the steady sunshine.” It was as I suspected all along. No interest in me other than dealing with the current problem. Even though I could rationally explain to myself how it was for the best, I couldn’t stop the brief stab of pain deep inside me. When Ulrick returned, we walked to the Keep’s entrance. Kade wanted to talk to me in private. Ulrick scowled. “Don’t worry,” Kade said. “On the off chance Tricky is lying in wait in the Citadel, I’ll be able to brew a strong gale. The weather is unsettled today.” Apprehension and reluctance filled Ulrick’s eyes, but he left to deliver the tools to the almost-finished glass shop. “I’ll catch up with you there,” I called. He waved. Kade was bemused. “He’s protective, a good quality in a bodyguard, but he needs to learn how to trust.” “He just met you,” I said. “I meant you. Trust you. You managed to escape Sir and Tricky without harm, so you do know how to take care of yourself.” We sauntered through the southeast quadrant of the Citadel. The cold air kept most people indoors, and there were few citizens on the streets. “You followed me last night, trying to protect me,” I countered. “True. But you didn’t know about Indra and Nodin then. Now that you know, I expect you to take extra precautions.” “Is this what you wanted to talk to me about?” “No. I had a chance to speak with Master Cowan this morning. She explained a few more details of your escape from Tricky. She wanted to know if I’ve heard of any Stormdancers who could pull another’s magic into an orb.” “Have you?” “No. But I wondered when you helped me with the storm, why didn’t my magic transform into glass raindrops?” I thought back and reviewed the series of events. “Perhaps it didn’t happen because you were pulling in a real substance, while Tricky’s spiders were illusion.” “A possibility. Once this mess with Varun and the orbs is settled, I’ll see about assigning one of my Stormdancers to help you with your experiments.” Another jab of disappointment pierced me. I berated myself, thinking of Ulrick. “The reason I wanted to speak to you alone is …” Kade hesitated. It was the first time I’d seen him uncertain. “I have a favor to ask.” Intrigued and a little uneasy, I encouraged him to continue. “It’s about my orb. I didn’t want to leave it with another Stormdancer, yet I don’t want to carry it with me on this mission. It could be used as a weapon in the wrong hands. Will you keep it for me?” “Of course, but why didn’t you give it to Raiden?” Kade fiddled with the sleeve of his cape. “Raiden would send it off to be used to fuel one of our factories. We’re short of orbs this year and he threatened to stop indulging me in my ‘maudlin behavior.’ The orbs are vital to the Stormdance economy, but I’m not ready to part with it just yet. And I knew you would understand why.” The orb was his last physical connection to his sister, Kaya. “Is that why you asked me? Because I’ve lost a sister, too?” “No. Because I trust you.” As we talked, Kade and I had wandered into the main section of the Citadel. Although a few people still shopped, most of the market stands were closed for the day. Twilight cast a pall on the marble walls. Strident voices pulled my attention to an alley on my right. Two men engaged in a verbal argument. Kade and I were about to walk past when the snick of a switchblade reached us. I shared a look with Kade and he strode down the alley without hesitation. I followed. “Excuse me,” he called. “I’m in need of directions. Can one of you gentlemen tell me where the Council Hall is?” The smaller man tried to step away from his companion, but the other grabbed his shirt. “Go ask someone else. We’re busy,” he said. The voice sounded familiar. I peered at the bigger man. In the weak light, the raw gash on his lower lip oozed black. Bloody Lip. My hands grasped the handles of my sais. “Sir, do you need help?” Kade asked. “This man is trying—” “Shut up,” Bloody Lip growled. He raised his knife. “Leave now and I won’t hurt you.” “We could say the same thing,” Kade replied. A wind gust blew through the alley, sweeping trash into the air. I pulled my sais and held them in the ready position. Bloody Lip met my gaze and pushed the man down, turning all his attention to us. “I know you. You’re that student who cost me my job.” His other hand moved and with another snick he brandished a second knife. “You won’t surprise me this time.” He advanced. Another gust flowed around us. It whistled and slammed into Bloody Lip, but the air around us remained calm. He kept his feet as the litter in the alley shot past. The victim huddled low to the ground. A banging noise sounded behind me and I turned in time to avoid a couple of barrels rolled by the wind. They hit the edge of a cobblestone and launched into the air, connecting with Bloody Lip. He tumbled to the ground, cursing as a knife skittered out of his hand. The wind stopped and Bloody Lip crawled to his feet and ran away. Kade helped the victim to stand. “Thank fate you came along. That man was trying to rob me,” he said. His voice quavered with a shaky indignation. “Do you want us to escort you to the Citadel guards to report him?” I asked. He flinched and attempted a smile. “No. No time. I have a delivery to make. Can you accompany me to the store? It’s not far.” “Sure,” Kade said. He moved aside to let the man lead. “My name’s Chun. Who do I have the pleasure of thanking for rescuing me?” We introduced ourselves. Chun chatted about nothing in particular and once again thanked us when we reached his destination. The storefront was unremarkable, but I recognized the place as belonging to one of the many black market dealers Pazia and I had visited. Chun’s reluctance to talk to the authorities was now understandable. His delivery was probably of black market goods. We left and headed back toward the Keep. Two blocks away I made the connection. Stopping in midstride, I said, “Chun entered Bloody Lip’s place.” I explained about Bex and Bloody Lip’s attempt to strong-arm me and Pazia into buying fake diamonds. “Do you think Chun and he worked together?” Kade asked. “No. Bloody Lip mentioned getting fired.” I thought it through. “Let’s go back and see where he goes.” We found a small alcove near the store and waited. My attention tended to wander. The air between me and Kade felt as if a mini thunderstorm brewed within the narrow gap. A sudden desire to grasp Kade’s arm and share his energy swelled in my heart. I stifled it with difficulty. Chun finally exited after the lamplighters had finished lighting the street. An errant gust had blown the lamp near us out. From Kade’s grin, I knew it wasn’t a coincidence. Before Chun could move away, the door swung open and a man stuck his head out. “I forgot about the midseason festival,” he said. “Bring us ten more crystals. The tourists will snatch them up. Everyone loves a bargain.” They shared a chuckle, and I wondered if the crystals he mentioned were the fake diamonds. Keeping a half-block distance back from Chun, we followed him to the Citadel’s north gate. He stopped at the public paddock nearby. Each of the Citadel’s entrances had a place where you could stable your horse or store a wagon. A convenience for those who only came for the day. The paddocks were run by the government and every large town in Sitia had one. Chun hitched a dilapidated wagon to a brown horse. Spokes were missing from the wheels and the broken back gate was tied to the sides with knotted and frayed ropes. “If he’s selling the fakes, he certainly isn’t putting his money into transportation,” Kade said. “Then again, what better way to avoid robbers on the roads.” “Zitora didn’t seem as concerned with the fakes, but we should know who is producing them.” We watched as Chun spurred the horse and drove through the north gate. Once he was out of sight, we questioned the paddock manager. “Comes in twice a season,” he said, checking a ledger. “Nice guy. I know he’s a member of the Moon Clan because he told me about the troubles they were having with bandits and how he was unhappy with their Councillor.” “Do you know why he comes?” I asked. “Deliveries, I think.” The man shrugged. “Must be small because the wagon’s always empty. He pays his bill on time and never leaves anything behind. Wish I could say the same for everyone.” I thanked him and we left his office. “I bet he’s supplying the black market with the fake diamonds,” I said. “I wish I could follow the wagon.” “I can,” Kade said. “What about Varun?” “There are sand suppliers in Moon lands.” “And the lava flakes are shipped down from the Emerald Mountains.” “Then I can interview the suppliers for clues to Sir’s whereabouts and follow Chun.” A moment of regret consumed me. I had hoped he would stay a few more days, but it made sense for him to go. “What about your pack?” I asked. “Keep it for me. I only have a change of clothes and my orb. I can buy what I need on the road.” Kade rented a horse from the paddock manager. I wrote him a list of sand suppliers in Moon and Cloud Mist lands. To avoid traveling in the Avibian Plains, he would have to come back this way to reach the rest of the clans. “I should be able to follow Chun. I’ll send word if I learn anything,” Kade said. “Use the glass messengers. Every large town has a magician with one of them. Just tell him you have an important message for Master Cowan and he should deliver the information right away.” “I could always threaten him with a hailstorm.” Eagerness laced his tone. “That could land you in jail.” “Not for long.” I laughed at his boast. “Can wind unlock iron bars?” “No, but metal gets very brittle when it’s cold.” “And you know this from experience?” “Let’s just say I have a stormy past.” I groaned at the pun as he swung up on the horse. Kade paused before leaving. His playfulness gone. “Be careful.” “You, too.” Back at the Keep, I wrapped Kade’s orb in a blanket and stored it under my bed. Over the course of the next few days, I would be overcome with the need to unwrap the orb and sit with it in my lap. The magic trapped within the glass sphere pulsed through my body as I listened to its song and watched the swirls of color inside. At night, even through the thick covering, I heard the orb calling Kaya’s name. I missed Kade, yet I was enjoying Ulrick’s company. My dual emotions unsettled me until I realized those mixed feelings occurred all the time. I longed for my family, but was glad for Mara’s presence. I even wished for Aydan’s company, missing his gruff commands and kind gestures. My missing Kade was all part of being his friend. Nothing wrong with it. No hidden meanings in it at all. Equipment for our glass shop arrived. Ulrick, Mara and I assembled and installed the various pieces. My excitement grew as we planned the first set of experiments and recruited helpers from the Keep’s students. “Just need the kiln and we’ll be good to go,” Ulrick said. We snuggled on the couch in my quarters. A fire roared in the hearth. The white coals from Gid had been delivered, and I was testing how long the coals would burn so I could determine how often the kilns would need to be fed. Once the kiln reached the correct temperature to melt the sand, the best course of action was to always keep it hot. “I’ve managed to convince Seften to help us next week,” I said. “His magical illusions are very good.” “You’re hoping to duplicate what you did with the spiders?” “Yes.” “What is he going to send after you? Snow cats would be useful or necklace snakes. No one would bother you if you had a snow cat following you.” I laughed. “I think we’ll start with something a little smaller.” The day of meeting with the jeweler arrived. I joined Pazia in Zitora’s office. “We’ve been watching the store, and have followed a few people,” Zitora said. “We think we know who Elita’s main supplier is, but we’ll know for sure today. I want you to arrange to buy all his diamonds over ten carats.” “All?” I swallowed. The cost would be unbelievable. Even Pazia paled. “Yes. All.” “Why?” I asked. “So he knows you’re serious buyers. And when you ask him for more, he won’t hesitate to go straight to his source.” “Why don’t you just arrest him and extract the information from his mind?” I knew there were a few powerful mind-reading magicians at the Keep. “As soon as he’s arrested, word will spread and the source will disappear. Also only Third Magician Irys is legally allowed to obtain information that way, and she’s still in Moon lands.” Zitora handed Pazia a large money bag. “Make sure the diamonds you buy are real then return to the Keep. I’ve assigned another magician to follow the supplier.” With no need to disguise ourselves, Pazia and I set off for the meeting. Ulrick hadn’t been happy about staying behind at the Keep. “She’s no friend of yours,” he had said. “If you get into trouble, she’s going to protect herself first.” Good thing the conversation had been interrupted by the arrival of the kiln from Booruby. Distracted, he had skipped his lecture on safety, settling for a promise from me to be extra careful. My thoughts centered on trust as we hurried to Elita’s store. She had said to arrive before the lamplighters lit the back alley. The troop of lighters was already out on the streets, shimmying up the posts with their flaming sticks. The door opened after our first tap. Hustled inside, we entered the same room as before. Elita waited with a man of average height and weight, although I would never forget him. His pure white hair was buzzed close to his head and was in stark contrast to his midnight skin. Elita introduced him as Mr. Lune. Six diamonds sparkled on the velvet-covered table. They ranged in size from a thumbnail to a cherry. We all hunched over them as if they possessed a magical attraction. “May I?” I gestured to the stones. “Certainly. They’re as genuine as the mountains they were mined from,” Mr. Lune said. “The Emerald Mountains?” Pazia asked. “Nice try, sweetheart. I’m not stupid enough to tell Vasko’s daughter where I found my diamonds.” I picked up the smallest one. It was a round stone with the bottom cut to a point. Numbing cold soaked into my skin where the diamond rested on my palm. My mind’s eye filled with a frozen and flat wasteland. As I checked the others, my bones ached with cold. The snowy vision stayed and a few wooden structures came into focus. The wood, peeling and gray, appeared weathered by many storms. The buildings leaned as if constructed during a strong wind. Piles of snow decorated their roofs and icicles hung from the windows. The gems were authentic. I signaled Pazia with a discreet gesture. “How much?” Pazia asked Mr. Lune. “For which one?” “For all.” Shock and then gleeful greed blazed on Mr. Lune’s dark face before he smoothed his expression into mild interest. His first amount was so ridiculously high, even Elita couldn’t suppress a huff of amusement. Pazia handled the brisk negotiations. Feeling had returned to my palm and I wanted to see what would happen if I touched all six diamonds at once. I laid my hand over the gems on the velvet. Ice pierced my skin and spread throughout my body, driving the heat out. Once again the white expanse formed in my mind. This time I concentrated on the structures, searching for any clue to their location. Gray smoke billowed from a chimney rising above the only stone building. Footprints tracked between doorways. Another set of tracks ringed one small shack. These resembled snow cat paw prints, which ended in a scuffed mess stained pink. Unable to endure the icy grip on my body, I pulled my hand away from the diamonds. I glimpsed a deep pit before the vision melted. Rubbing my arms, I shivered. The gems had been mined from the northern ice sheet above the Territory of Ixia, a vast expanse of snow and ice almost as big as Ixia. Mr. Lune had lied about the mountains. “… pay Elita and the two agents who brought you here, plus my workers, there’ll be nothing left,” Mr. Lune said. “I know how much miners are paid. My offer is more than generous,” Pazia countered. The negotiations launched into another round. My thoughts shifted to Ulrick. He would be worried if we delayed too long. A deluge of emotions swirled in my chest. The thrill of holding his hand, the wonderment over his attraction to me, the annoyance about his protectiveness, and the worry we lacked a certain spark all churned. I shied away from the last thought. Since our brief touch in Zitora’s office, I couldn’t think of sparks without thinking of Kade. “… five golds per carat, and if you can find me six more diamonds over ten carats from the same mine, I’ll up it to six,” Pazia said. Mr. Lune blinked a few times. “Six more diamonds that big? They’re hard to find. Their rarity increases the cost more than a gold. The other gems will cost you twelve golds a carat.” They haggled. A wild glint shone in Pazia’s eyes. She enjoyed the verbal battle. She offered a flat rate of nine golds per carat if he could secure six more large gems. “Deal.” Mr. Lune shook Pazia’s hand. She counted out twenty golds as down payment for twelve diamonds. Mr. Lune would send her a message when he returned, and they would complete the exchange. By the time we left Elita’s shop, all the Citadel’s stores had closed. The taverns remained opened. Bursts of laughter and measures of music formed pools of warmth in the cold night air. Pazia walked through them without notice. She reviewed the bargaining session with glee, detailing the finer moments. Her enthusiasm was infectious, but I kept watch for strangers following us or worse—someone I recognized. She ceased her chatter and placed a warning hand on my arm. “Around the corner … a man …” Pazia pressed her lips together. My insides felt tight. I reached for my sais. With an exasperated huff she relaxed. “Ulrick. Guess you forgot to tie his leash.” The instant vision of Ulrick chained to a post like a dog made me laugh out loud. To an outsider who didn’t know about the various threats, Ulrick’s behavior around me would appear guard doggish. My laughter wasn’t the reaction Pazia hoped for. She frowned, flashing me a cold stare from her olive-colored eyes. “I haven’t pushed him away, and you’re jealous,” I said. “Of course. He’s gorgeous, smart and caring. He deserves better than you.” “I was right. You do think you’re better than me.” “No. You’re still wrong. I said he deserved better. Not that he deserved me. In one small way, Opal, I’m just like you. I don’t know who to trust.” She strode on ahead and rounded the corner. I stared at her back for a moment before rushing to catch up. Ulrick was berating her for leaving me alone. She met his tirade with a bored air, answered him with a flippant response and sauntered away. “She only cares about one person,” Ulrick said. “Herself.” But I wasn’t so sure I agreed with him. Once the kiln reached the proper temperature, the sand mixture was loaded into the inner cauldron. It would take another half day to melt into molten glass. In the meantime, we set a schedule for the three of us to keep the fire hot. “We could use a few more people to help,” Mara said. “Leif would—” “You can’t ask Leif to shovel coal,” Ulrick said. “Why not?” she asked. “He’s too important. It’s like asking Master Cowan to mend socks.” Mara fixed him with a cold stare. “If Leif thought shoveling coal was too menial for him, I wouldn’t be here.” “It’s just—” I touched his shoulder. “You really shouldn’t say any more. You’ll just dig yourself in deeper.” He threw his hands up in surrender and checked the temperature of the annealing oven. However, Mara was right, we did need more helpers. I wondered if I could send out a general request to the Keep’s student body. Perhaps a few would be interested in learning how to work with the glass. Zitora approved the idea and I wrote a message on the dining hall’s announcement blackboard. In no time, a handful of students arrived at our glass shop, offering to lend a hand. Working with their class schedules, Mara added the five of them in when they had free time and promised glass lessons in exchange for shoveling coal. I erased the request off the board. Five would be enough for now. Finally the melt was ready. We had loaded the kiln with a sand recipe that was similar to the Stormdancers’ mix. The three of us had decided to craft a few orbs for our first project to see if I could channel another’s magic into glass as I had done when Tricky attacked me. “It almost feels like home,” Mara said as she gathered a slug for Ulrick on the end of a blowpipe. “Do you miss home?” I asked. “Yes, but it really was time for me to move on. If Mother mentioned grandchildren to me once more, I would have …” “What?” I smiled. “Threatened to remain childless!” Mara shaped the molten slug into a sphere then handed the pipe to Ulrick. “My nieces and nephews were constantly underfoot,” Ulrick said. He blew a bubble into the sphere. Annoyance twinged at how easy he made it look, and I was sure by the end of the day even our new helpers could thumb a bubble. Swallowing my frustrations, I reflected on Ulrick’s comment. “Do you miss your family?” I asked him. Mara lifted the pipe from his workbench, and reheated the glass in the glory hole. “Not at all,” he said. My sister returned when the glass glowed yellow. Ulrick grabbed the jacks and, as he turned the pipe, Mara blew into one end as he narrowed the glass around the other end, forming an almost-complete ball. I hurried to get a small amount of glass on a pontil iron and formed a punty. Using the metal tweezers, Ulrick brought the punty to the end of the ball, then dripped water near the end of the blowpipe. One hit with the end of his tweezers, the orb cracked off the blowpipe and was now attached to the pontil rod. The orb was inserted back into the glory hole to heat. When the tip was pliable, Ulrick worked to craft a lip for the orb. He used the orb I stole from Tricky as a guide to how to shape it. Since we didn’t plan to trap energy inside, we didn’t worry about finding a way to plug the opening. We made four orbs and set them in the annealing oven to cool. It would be twelve hours before we could work with the orbs. “I have twenty pounds of my special sand mix on order,” Ulrick said. “When it arrives, I’ll show you how I make those vases.” While Ulrick helped Mara make a bowl, I showed Piecov how to gather glass from the kiln. The first-year student had signed up to help with the glass shop. He had watched us work, and now it was his turn to try. “Watch, it’s very hot. You want to get in and out as fast as possible,” I said. “And keep the rod turning all the time or the glass will drip to the floor.” He was quick to learn and asked all the right questions. Overall, I was very pleased with the glass shop’s first day of operation. Everyone worked together well, and the equipment ran without problems. It was a shame the harmony didn’t last very long. The next day we inspected the orbs. No cracks or flaws and the glass felt thick enough to withstand any jostling. Our creations matched the one containing the spiders. “Do you think it’ll work?” Ulrick asked. “Only one way to find out.” We would have to wait for Stefan’s morning classes to finish. He promised to stop by and attack me with a magical illusion during lunch. When the door to the glass shop opened, I expected to see Stefan. Instead an aggrieved Pazia stood in the threshold. “Stefan’s not coming,” she said. She scanned the shop with distaste. “Why not?” I demanded. “Master Bloodgood needs him.” She joined us by the table of orbs. “Bain sent me to help.” Her stiff demeanor revealed that she would rather be doing anything but aid us. “No,” Ulrick said. “We’ll find someone else.” “As much as I would love to leave, there is no one better at illusions than me. If you’re going to experiment with magic, you might as well do it right or not bother at all.” I considered. Master Bloodgood knew our plans. If he thought Pazia would be useful, then she would be. “All right. Do you know what we’re trying to do?” “Opal, may I have a word with you?” Ulrick grabbed my arm and propelled me outside. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.” “Why not? She’s a very powerful magician and could be useful with our experiments.” “What if she tries to sabotage them? She’s jealous of you.” “Then we’ll ask her to leave. You have to keep an open mind.” “I just don’t want her to hurt you.” He pulled me into an embrace. I melted against him, enjoying the moment. “Do you think I would let her?” “Not intentionally. You’re too nice, Opal. You always think the best of people so you’re always going to get hurt.” I mulled over his comment. He was right in a way, but my interactions with people didn’t always lead to pain. Interesting how Pazia said I didn’t trust anyone and Ulrick claimed I trust too much. Who was right? “Do you think she’s up to something?” Ulrick asked. “Like what?” “Spying on you, seeing what you can do with your magic.” “For what purpose?” “You have people after you. She could tell them how to neutralize your magic or where to find you.” “I haven’t seen a sign of anyone in awhile. Don’t you think you’re being a little paranoid?” I pulled away from him. “I’m being smart. As time passes without any hint of danger, you’ll begin to relax. Eventually you’ll think the danger is past and then … Bam! Surprised and unprepared you’re caught. That’s what I would do if I were Tricky.” He had a point. My skin felt hot and tight as if I was trapped in a spotlight. Could I ever relax? “You shouldn’t trust anyone besides me and your sister,” Ulrick said. “What about Zitora or my parents or Kade?” The Stormdancer’s name slipped out. He frowned. “They all could be compromised. How do you know Kade wasn’t the one who spiked the glass with Brittle Talc? He could be working with Tricky for his own reasons. Maybe for revenge over his sister’s death. Maybe her death was really an accident and he wants to put a stop to all stormdancing.” I couldn’t believe that scenario. “You can make up any story you want to fit, but it doesn’t mean it’s true. I could even come up with a reason for my sister and Leif to plot against me.” “But it could be true. Perhaps you should trust no one.” If my first four years at the Keep had been lonely, not being able to trust anyone would make my life worse. But then Pazia’s words about trust drifted through my thoughts again. She was wrong. I trusted Ulrick with my life, Zitora with my education, my sister with my dreams, and Kade with … With what? I didn’t have an answer. Ulrick and I returned to the glass shop. Mara was giving Pazia a tour of the small shop. I explained to Pazia about the experiment, and showed her the glass orbs and spiders. “We want to recreate the attack and see if I can defend myself again,” I said. As she considered my request, the annoyance faded and genuine interest glowed in her eyes, making Ulrick suspicious. I believed if she offered to fetch us a drink he would still be unhappy. “Do you want me to conjure spiders?” she asked me. “How about something a little less creepy?” “Snakes?” “No!” Mara and I said together in horror. Pazia rolled her eyes. “Puppies?” “Butterflies,” I suggested. “I’m good, but not powerful enough to make butterflies menacing. Try again.” “Bees?” “Better.” “What type of bee?” Ulrick asked. “I’ll decide. Opal wouldn’t get to choose if a magician were really after her. Better if she’s surprised. Ready?” I picked one of our orbs, and held it between my hands. Pazia concentrated. The lines of her neck pulled taut as she gathered power. A low hum sounded. I exchanged glances with Mara. She heard the sound, too. The steady drone increased in volume until the room vibrated with the noise. “What the—” Ulrick batted at the air near his head. At first, a few bees blazed by my head. I jumped back as another green-and-black bee flew by my ear. Mara cried out, swatting at her skirt. A finger of ice brushed my spine when I recognized the Greenblade bees. All six inches of the hairy insect were striped with green and brown. Impossible to spot in their home forests, they attacked with relish and pumped lethal quantities of venom into their victims. Fortunately they lived deep in the Greenblade Clan’s forest and only awoke to mate every three years. “Anytime now, Opal,” Ulrick said. He ducked to avoid a cloud of them. One landed on his shoulder and plunged its stinger into his upper arm. He grunted in pain. Mara raced around the room, yelling. The air was thick with bees, many more than the spiders. A blanket of insects covered Ulrick. A twinge of doubt squeezed my stomach, but I concentrated on the orb. It waited as if interested in the commotion yet content to just watch. I rolled it between my palms, imagining it on the end of a blowpipe. Pulling the buzz closer to me, I channeled the magic into the glass sphere. One ping, then another. Soon the ringing of glass dominated. The sound echoed in my heart and continued for a long time. Bees disappeared, and more were created. Because of the sheer numbers, it felt like years before Ulrick’s body was uncovered and the swarm around Mara was gone. Finally, all grew quiet. My muscles strained to hold the full orb. I placed it on a table and a handful of the contents spilled. Trapped inside glass, miniature Greenblade bees sparkled. A success, but at what cost? I glanced at the others. Ulrick moved closer to see the glass bees. Sweat soaked his tunic, but no other sign of the attack was visible. Mara’s disheveled hair stuck out in all directions, and she panted, winded from her exertions. Pazia had slumped to the ground. Mara bent over her. I joined her. “Is she okay?” I asked. “I think she fainted.” Her skin lacked color. Mara settled on the ground and gently placed the magician’s head in her lap. “Should we take her to the infirmary? Maybe we should send for a healer.” “Oh for sand’s sake, just throw water on her.” Ulrick picked up a bucket. “Wait.” I grabbed the pail from him. “She hasn’t been overcome by the heat like in a glass factory. She might have exhausted her magic. Throwing water on her might just make her wet.” When Zitora had used all her energy, she’d slept until her energy was restored. I dipped my fingers into the cold water and rubbed it on Pazia’s forehead. No reaction. “We should have a healer look at her just in case.” Mara, worried and upset, left her in my care while she fetched a healer. She returned with Healer Hayes and Zitora. We followed as they carried her to the infirmary on the first floor of the administration building. “She used her magic to create an illusion,” I told Zitora. The four of us stood around Pazia’s bed. “I didn’t think it would be such a big drain on her energy.” “It shouldn’t. For a few younger students, they would be tired, but not Pazia. Something else must be wrong.” “If there is, I can’t find it,” Healer Hayes said. His hand pressed against Pazia’s forehead. “She has all the classic signs of exhaustion. We should let her rest and she should be fine.” “I’ll stay with her,” Mara offered. “Go see if your experiment worked.” I returned to the shop with Ulrick, and examined one of the bees. He put a hand on my arm. “Do you think they’ll obey you like the spiders? I’d rather not get stung again. Besides the whole dying from the poison aspect, it hurt like hell.” “Only one—” “Just do it.” I broke a glass bee. A whoosh, a huff and a flash followed. The same energy burst as the spiders. One Greenblade bee hovered over the table, buzzing. Ulrick poked it with a rod. It moved away, but didn’t attack him. “Feels real. Give it a command.” “Sting that orange.” I pointed to a bowl of fruit. Mara always kept plenty of food around for the helpers who worked during mealtimes. The bee flew straight toward the bowl, landed on the orange and stung it. After a few convulsions, the bee disappeared. Ulrick plucked the tainted fruit with care. He found a knife and cut the orange in half. A rotten sour smell emanated. Brown mucuslike liquid oozed from the orange—the bee’s venom. “Remind me never to get you angry,” Ulrick said. Pazia didn’t wake while we experimented with the glass bees. I had hoped that with the release of the bees, she would recover faster. But her unconscious state remained despite breaking over a hundred bees. It appeared once the magic was trapped and transformed, it was available for me to use and no one else. Zitora wanted a full report on our experiments. Ulrick and I briefed her in her office. “You’ve discovered a great defense against a magical attack,” she said. “Against illusions,” I agreed. “I was going to try channeling other types of attacks, but since Pazia’s collapse, I’m not so sure.” “It’s best to wait until she recovers. I’m sure you have plenty to do in the meantime.” Zitora moved a few papers on her desk. “The Masters could use a few more of your messengers, Opal.” Hint taken, I used my workshop time to craft a variety of animals for the Masters to use to communicate. My worry for Pazia tipped toward panic as three days passed without any change in her condition. She had gone too far in sending so many bees against us, and conjuring Greenblade bees was just plain cruel. I could claim I acted in self-defense. Although I didn’t like her, I hadn’t wanted to cause her real harm. During those three days, Ulrick’s special sand arrived and we loaded the mix into the kiln to melt, planning for him to demonstrate his vase-making method the next day. Just as we were leaving the shop, one of Healer Hayes’s assistants ran up to us. “Pazia is awake. Master Cowan wants you to come. Now,” he said, before running back to the infirmary. Thank fate! Relief gave me a burst of energy and I kept pace with the assistant, slowing only when we reached the door to Pazia’s room. Ulrick was right behind me. A little color had returned to her cheeks, but exhaustion left dark circles under her eyes. She stared at me. Horror and accusation pulsed from her. Healer Hayes propped her against the pillows and Zitora positioned a tray of food on her lap. “Eat. And it’s not a request,” she said. I glanced at Zitora. Her concern was evident, but before I could explain, she asked me, “Did you feel tired after your experiment with Pazia?” Surprised by the odd question, I needed a moment to collect my thoughts. “No. Why?” Zitora looked at Pazia. She moved her fork to her mouth as if it weighed a hundred pounds. “You must have used Pazia’s energy to channel her own magic.” “Is that why she collapsed?” “Not the whole reason. Pazia?” She finished chewing, then paused as if summoning the strength to speak. “You stole everything from me. Every bit of magic. I have none left.” 23 “WHAT DO YOU mean none?” I asked. Pazia dropped the fork onto the tray and fell back against her pillows. The effort of eating and talking was too much for her. I turned to Zitora. The Master Magician’s worry alarmed me. “Her magic will come back, won’t it?” I asked. “We don’t know. Nothing like this has ever happened before. Don’t do any more channeling until we know for sure.” Ulrick and I left Pazia’s room. We returned to my quarters in the apprentice wing, but I had no memory of the trip. When Ulrick suggested we eat dinner, the thought of food soured my stomach. What if Pazia’s magic never returned? The possibility frightened me to the core. “If you can strip a person’s magic with those orbs,” Ulrick said, “we don’t have to worry about Tricky anymore. I wonder if you could take Master Cowan’s power.” “Ulrick, I don’t want to talk about it. I may have destroyed Pazia’s ability to use magic. There is no positive side.” I entered my bedroom and shut the door. I lay on top of the bed and stared at the ceiling. Unable to stop my thoughts, I watched as they replayed the series of events over and over and over in my mind. Filling the orb with Pazia’s bees felt effortless and I had been fine when Tricky had attacked with the spiders. What else had I done with the orbs? I had helped Kade with the storm. But then exhaustion claimed me as soon as we finished. In that case, Kade’s energy was depleted—he struggled to control the bubble of calm keeping him from the storm’s fury. I had given him my energy to use as he harvested the storm’s essence. If he had tried to attack me with wind, could I channel it? I shied away from the answer. I must have fallen asleep, because Ulrick woke me in the morning. I picked at my breakfast, letting the drone of conversation flow around me. Mara joined us and we headed for the glass shop. Excitement and pride used to bloom whenever I saw the new shop, but not this time. Mara and I helped Ulrick create his vases. Beautiful long-necked pieces with swirls of color. He had purchased a number of different colored crystals to dip the molten glass into. The crystals melted when heated, coloring the glass. I couldn’t tell if he used magic while working with the pieces. Only when the vases cooled and I could touch them would I know if he had trapped magic inside. “Opal, you haven’t said a word all day. You shouldn’t worry so much. I’m sure Pazia will be fine,” Mara said. Cracking off Ulrick’s last vase, I transferred it to the annealing oven. “No sense moping about it until you know for certain,” Ulrick said. “Come on.” He gathered a ball of molten glass. “I saved you some of my mix to play with.” Outnumbered, I worked at the gaffer’s bench. The glass moved as if made of silk. It was easy to shape and fun to manipulate. It didn’t take long for my dark mood to lighten. “Is the flexibility due to the Krystal Clan’s gold sand?” I asked him. “Nice try, but I’m not telling you the mix ingredients.” The next day the vases cooled down enough to handle. Popping in my hands, they held Ulrick’s magic within them. But Mara couldn’t “feel” the vibrations at all. When Ulrick and I both held the vase, it sang a sad tune. Mara heard nothing when she tried holding it with him. A few of our student helpers had arrived. We tested a vase on each of them. No one could feel the pops, but they heard a song with Ulrick’s touch. The song was different for each person. We puzzled over the discrepancy. After a few more tries with different vases, we discovered a person would hear his unique song no matter which vase he touched. “Piecov, how are you feeling?” Mara asked him. The first-year student frowned in confusion. “I feel fine.” She shook her head. “Are you happy, sad, lonely?” “Oh. I’m rather glad. I found out this morning I passed my history test.” “Touch the vase with Ulrick again,” she instructed. Piecov complied. “Does the song you hear match your mood?” He considered for a moment. “Yes.” She asked the others and they agreed. We strolled around the Keep’s campus and tested the vases on the other students. Even going so far as to interrupt an argument. In each instance, the student’s song reflected his or her mood. We also couldn’t find any other magician who could feel the vase’s vibrations. Not even Ulrick felt it—only me. Even when I held the vase with another, I couldn’t hear a song and the vase remained inert. We returned to the shop. “A mood indicator,” Ulrick said in disgust. “And not even my moods, but others. A useless parlor trick!” “I wouldn’t say useless,” I said. “You might be able to use the vases to interrogate criminals, find out if they feel guilty or are lying.” “Not the job I hoped for.” He snatched a broom and swept the floor with hard strokes. “We might still discover other uses for your pieces.” I straightened the workbenches, replacing the tools. He didn’t comment as we finished cleaning up the shop. I understood his disappointment. Four years in the Keep had been one letdown after another for me. But the Keep’s instructors had been trying to teach me to use magic in the traditional ways. Only when I had been in dire situations did my other abilities manifest themselves. While I wouldn’t recommend that method, perhaps Ulrick would have other opportunities to find out more. Before dinner, Ulrick, Mara and I stopped at the infirmary to ask Healer Hayes about Pazia. She was only slightly better. In the hallway, we encountered Zitora. The magician sent Ulrick and Mara on to dinner and asked me to accompany her to her office. Usually Ulrick would fuss about leaving me alone, but he shuffled after Mara without saying a word. Конец ознакомительного фрагмента. Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес». Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/maria-v-snyder/glass-collection-storm-glass-sea-glass-spy-glass/?lfrom=688855901) на ЛитРес. Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.