They hemmed and shuffled their feet.
“I didn’t think so. As I said before, she’s in charge. I won’t use any orbs unless she approves them first. Now, I believe Opal asked you a question.”
“Yes, the kiln is hot,” Zetta said. She kept her voice even, but she clutched her arms.
“Is the cart near the stockpiles?” I asked.
“No. We used it to bring coal up to the kiln,” Ziven said.
More tradition. To keep the kiln safe from the water and weather, it had been installed in a high cave with a natural chimney to vent the smoke. It was also far away from the stockpiles on the beach. Crafting the orbs off-site and sending them to the coast just wasn’t done, either.
“Get the cart. I’ll meet you at the piles.”
They left but not without Zetta treating me to another glare when she thought Kade wasn’t looking. How childish. I suppressed the urge to stick my tongue out in response.
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I said to Kade.
“Do you need my help with the orbs?” Kade asked, but his gaze sought the sea.
“No. You go.”
“Go where?”
“Out onto the sea rocks.”
“How did—”
“You’re swaying with the surf. Go commune with the waves and air currents.” I shooed him toward the beach.
“I get a better sense of approaching storms when I’m near the water,” he said in defense.
“Isn’t that what I just said?”
“You made it sound...absurd.”
“I didn’t mean to. That’s important, unlike surfing the waves. That’s ridiculous.”
“Not once you try it.”
I shivered, thinking about the cold water. “No, thanks.”
“It’s going to be fun changing your mind.” Kade waved and ran down the beach with an unconscious grace and hopped onto the black rocks. He stepped from one to another, traveling farther out. As the waves crashed into them, spray and foam erupted around him, but didn’t slow him down.
My attempt to cross them had ended with a wipeout and a gash on the head. When Kade reached the final rock, I waited for the glassmakers near the stockpiles.
Four wagons covered with tarps rested along the back wall of the stables. I uncovered them, checking their contents. Glittering in the sunlight, the bright white sand from the Krystal lands filled the first wagon. Both the black lava flakes and the grains from Bloodgood’s red beach were in the second wagon. A wooden divider separated them. Lime packed the next wagon and the last contained soda ash. All the ingredients needed to make glass.
I found shovels and trowels, but couldn’t locate a few important items. Ziven joined me, pushing the wheelbarrow.
“Where’s Zetta?” I asked.
“She’s waiting back at the kiln.” He grabbed a shovel. “What’s the recipe?”
“I could tell you, but it won’t do you any good.”
“What?”
I gestured. “The scale isn’t here, or the drum mixer. How are you going to weigh out the ingredients and blend them together?”
He considered. “We brought them to the cave. It doesn’t matter. We can mix and weigh up there.”
“What if you don’t bring enough of one ingredient? You would need to make another trip. It’s better to have those down here.”
Ziven grumbled and complained about transferring the scale and mixer. When he returned, he and Zetta made a big production out of moving the heavy equipment. I ignored them by examining the glass ingredients for any foreign substances or contaminants. Dipping a trowel full of lime into the water, I checked for Brittle Talc. It would turned purple if tainted. No change.
When the glassmakers finished, I told them the sand recipe. “Forty percent Krystal’s white sand, forty percent local sand...” I scooped a handful of coarse yellow-and-brown grains from the beach. Compared to the tiny white granules, the beach sand appeared oversize. “Fifteen percent Bloodgood red sand and five percent lava flakes.”
Ziven and Zetta didn’t move. I handed a shovel to each.
“How do we measure out percentages?” Ziven asked.
I blinked at him. He asked about a fundamental skill. “By weight. The kiln can hold one hundred pounds of mix. After you put in the lime and soda ash, the sand ingredients will balance out the rest.”
Comprehension failed to light their faces.
“You’ll need eleven pounds of lime and fourteen pounds of ash, which is twenty-five pounds. So to figure out how much Krystal sand, you’ll need to take forty percent of seventy-five pounds, which is thirty pounds.”
“Why didn’t you just say thirty pounds of white in the first place?” Ziven asked.
“She’s showing off,” Zetta said.
As they shoveled and weighed the sand, I calculated the rest. “Eleven and a quarter pounds of Bloodgood red and three and three-quarters pounds of lava flakes.” I pressed my lips together before I could say more. My father taught me how to calculate percentages into weights before I could read. All his recipes used percentages, as did most glassmakers’, since kilns were built in different sizes, depending on the need. If the Stormdancers bought a kiln that could hold a hundred and fifty pounds, then the ingredient weights would all change.
I worried about their qualifications, remembering Helen’s comments about these two. At least they knew to mix the substances together. The drum mixer resembled a metal barrel laid on its side. Inside the container were fins to help stir. After securing the lid, a handle turned the drum to blend everything.
But when they began pulling the wheeled cart, I couldn’t conceal my amusement. By their fury, I knew any chance for a civil relationship was gone.
“You could help. Or are you too valuable?” Ziven asked.
“Experts don’t get their hands dirty,” Zetta said.
She’d pushed me too far. I’d had enough verbal abuse.
“Do you want to keep your jobs?” I asked them.
They shared a glance.
“It’s an easy question even for you. Either yes or no.”
“Yes,” Ziven said.
“Then shut your mouths and listen to me. Making the orbs is vital. Screwing up means killing Stormdancers. Right now, I’m the only person in the world who knows how they’re made.” I stepped closer and lowered my voice. “I don’t care if you like me or not. But if you utter one more snide comment, you’re both fired.”
“You can’t—” Zetta clamped her mouth shut when her brother slapped her arm.
I waited, but they remained silent. Good. “Now think. Wheeling a hundred pounds is doable on a flat surface, but what happens when you try to pull it up a slope?”
“It’s harder?” Ziven answered.
“Right. How did these wagons of supplies arrive?”
They both looked at the stable. Quartz’s and Moonlight’s heads poked out.
“They’re not our horses,” Ziven said. “Ours go home after we bring all the supplies in.”
“All you need to do is ask.”
“The owners?”
“The horses.” I found a harness hanging in an empty stall. “Quartz, will you help us?”
She nickered and I secured the leather straps and attached the cart. Within minutes, we arrived at the kiln’s cave. After we unloaded the sand mixture into the kiln’s cauldron, I suggested they blend another batch and store it up here. They had plenty of time as the melt wouldn’t be ready for another eight to twelve hours.
They agreed to my idea and I helped them prepare and deliver a second batch. Once we finished, I led Quartz back to the stables. I rubbed her down and fed her a few treats. My stomach rumbled. The sun hovered above the horizon, painting the sky with yellow, orange and red streaks.
I headed to the main cave. Kade wasn’t on the rocks. I found him talking with the other Stormdancers. They sat around the cook fire with Leif and Skippy. All held bowls of steaming white liquid. Even Leif.
“I thought you didn’t like seafood,” I said to him.
He slurped the juice straight from his bowl. “Fish. I said I didn’t like fish. This is soup.”
“There are clams in it,” Raiden said. He ladled a bowl for me.
“Clams aren’t fish.” Leif helped himself to another portion.
“I can cook fish so it tastes like steak,” Raiden said.
“Really?” An avid glow lit Leif’s eyes. He and Raiden launched into an intense discussion about cooking.
I found a seat next to Kade. He draped an arm around my shoulders but didn’t pause in his conversation. Prin looked at us in surprise. She continued to study us with a speculative frown. Wick leaned back in his chair with his eyes closed and an empty bowl in his lap. Tebbs perched on the edge of her seat, listening intently.
“...a few big storms are forming out at sea, but nothing will come close for a few days,” Kade said.
“Then why do we have to come here so early?” Tebbs asked. She had tried to catch Prin’s gaze, but gave up when Prin wouldn’t glance at her.
Tebbs’s rookie question confirmed my guess at her young age.
“There have been early season storms in the past, so it’s always prudent to be prepared and ready early,” Kade said. “Hopefully, the first storm will be mild and you can dance with Prin.” He smiled at Tebbs. She blushed and glanced down.
“Is this your first storm season?” I asked her.
“I was supposed to start my training last time, but with the orbs breaking and...” She played with the hem on her linen tunic. “Well. You know.” She cleared her throat. “Anyway, my powers came in much later than most of the others. Mother said I purposely ignored them before.” At this point Tebbs realized she babbled. “Yes. This will be my first time.” She settled her expression, trying to appear mature.
“Do the Stormdancer powers begin at puberty, too?” Usually, magical ability flared to life at the same time as a child’s body matured to an adult. For most, the transition complicated an already difficult time period, and a person’s power could be overlooked at first. It was one of the reasons for Irys Jewelrose’s annual trip to find and assess potential magicians. The threat of a young magician becoming uncontrolled and flaming out was another reason for her trip. Flameout would damage the power source, creating trouble for all the magicians.
“Yes, but there are exceptions,” Kade answered. “Heli could make a dust devil when she was ten and Tebbs, here, didn’t realize it was her mood affecting the weather instead of the other way around until she was eighteen.”
I thought of Master Jewelrose’s annual task again and groaned. Everyone looked at me. “Why didn’t I think of it before? Kade, you can use one of my glass messengers to find new Stormdancers.”
“That’s a great idea!” He beamed.
I suppressed the impulse to kiss him. “I’ll make you a bunch when we’re done with the orbs.”
“You don’t need a special glass mixture?” he asked.
“Nope. Any glass will do.”
“You can’t do that,” Skippy said.
I noticed he had been listening ever since Kade mentioned the storms out at sea.
“Why not?” I asked.
“The Council has set up protocols for obtaining a messenger. He’ll have to put in a request to the local station, who will pass it on to Councilor Stormdance, who will present all requests to the messenger committee, who then decides who to approve,” Skippy explained as if I should already be aware of this chain of command.
And he was right. I should be informed about what the Council did with my messengers. No wonder Vasko Cloud Mist was so happy to have his own; by giving him three I had bypassed a season’s worth of paperwork. It explained why Pazia had asked me if it was allowed.
The other Stormdancers peered at us in confusion, except Wick, who snored. Kade enlightened them about my messengers.
“...if you see the glow inside, then you have magical power.”
“But aren’t they the things that let you communicate from far away?” Prin asked.
“Yes. They have many uses.” Unmistakable pride filled Kade’s voice.
Prin blinked at me. “You make them? You’re the glass magician?”
“Why are you so surprised?” Kade asked.
“I...it’s just that...I never made the connection before. She was here only a few days.” Prin sounded aggrieved. “No one told me.”
“Not too many people know,” I said. “It’s safer that way.”
Everyone remained quiet for a moment.
“In any case,” I said, “they are my creations and I can give them to whomever I want.”
“The messenger committee isn’t going to like that,” Skippy said.
“I don’t care.”
“You should. I can prevent you from making them.” Skippy straightened.
“It’s not part of your assignment.”
“Doesn’t matter. It’s the right thing to do.”
“I don’t agree.”
“That doesn’t matter, either,” Skippy said.
“Yes, it does,” Kade said. “Opal’s opinion matters to me.”
“We’re away from the Keep, Stormdancer. I can erect a null shield at my discretion.”
“You’re outnumbered. There are five of us. Seven if you include Leif and Opal. And a null shield isn’t going to stop me from dumping you in the ocean.” Kade remained relaxed in his seat, but a dead-serious expression touched his face.
Skippy wisely kept quiet. Prin and Tebbs exchanged a look. Wick snorted and mumbled in his sleep.
The glassmakers arrived and hesitated by the cook fire as if scenting the tension in the air.
“How’s the melt?” I asked.
“Good, good,” Ziven said. He poured soup into two bowls, handing one to his sister. “We should be able to make orbs tomorrow morning.”
“Excellent,” Kade said.
The friction eased a bit. Conversation resumed. I wanted to ask Raiden about the glassmakers’ experience, but would wait until we could talk in private. A few of the Stormdancers had their own caves to sleep in; others collapsed on cots around the main cavern’s fire.
When I visited before, I slept with the others. I wondered if Kade’s cot was big enough for two. Despite being the leader of the Stormdancers, he had chosen a small cave with only enough room for a cot and a brazier. He claimed the room was a nice respite from the vastness of the sea.
The soft yellow firelight lit his profile. His straight nose widened just a bit at the end. Grains of sea salt clung to his long eyelashes. He had tucked his hair behind his ear. The sun-streaked strands resembled gold threads. Kade caught me staring and smiled.
Darkness pressed against the cave’s entrance, and I was going to suggest we retire for the evening, when I realized Heli hadn’t returned.
“Is Heli always gone so late?” I asked Kade.
He glanced around in dismay. “Ray, did Heli come back yet?”
Raiden jerked as if slapped. “Haven’t seen her all day. I’ll check her cave. Maybe she’s sorting her junk.” He lit a lantern and hurried out.
Kade lit a few more lanterns as we waited. Unable to sit still, I hovered near the base of the trail. By Raiden’s worried expression, I knew Heli’s room was empty.
“The sea’s calm today,” Kade said. “No rogue waves or riptides.”
“Maybe she fell and broke her leg or hit her head,” Prin said.
“Which way did she head out?” I asked Raiden.
He shrugged. “She’s alway
s going out. This is the first time she’s been gone so long.”
“She’s alone. Maybe she was attacked,” Prin said.
No wonder Heli had called Prin Ms. Doom and Gloom.
We split into two groups. Raiden, Prin and Tebbs headed north, while Kade, Leif and I turned south. Skippy stayed behind with the still-sleeping Wick just in case Heli bypassed us.
“Signal if you find her,” Kade had ordered.
“How?” Prin asked.
“Send a blast of air and I’ll do the same.”
We marched down the beach. The sand crunched under our boots. Waves shushed in a steady rhythm. We checked caves, inspected shadows and called Heli’s name.
“I keep forgetting how young she is,” Kade said. “She’s been dancing for four years, but she’s only sixteen.”
Leif stopped. He closed his eyes and drew in deep breaths. “Is she...springy? Enthusiastic?”
“Yes,” I said.
“Then she came this way.” He paused. “It’s been a while. No bad scents.”
We continued. The moon crested The Cliffs, casting a pale light over us. Eventually our lantern sputtered and died.
“Now what?” Leif asked.
“We keep going,” Kade said. “Are you still...smelling her?”
“Yep.”
“Let me know if anything changes.”
“Will do.”
My eyes adjusted to the weak moonlight. As I searched for a sign of Heli, I worried she might have drowned. Would the sea deposit her body on the shore like one of her treasures? Did Kade know the currents well enough to trace her through the waves? Now who was being Ms. Doom and Gloom?
“Heli!” Kade cried with delight and ran to a figure up ahead.
By the time I reached them, he had picked her up and swung her around.
“Where have you been?” he demanded when he set her down. She looked like a little girl next to him.
“Out collecting,” she said. “I kept finding these wonderful bits of sea glass.” She held up a bulging mesh bag. “More and more of them all scattered along the beach and well...I guess I went too far. But I couldn’t stop picking them up! The time flew and the next thing I knew, it was too dark to see the glass.” She gave Kade a wry smile. “Just my luck you returned today.” Heli noticed me. “And you brought Opal.” She jumped with glee. “Opal, just wait until you see these pieces. You’re going to die!”
Sea Glass Page 20
