When I finished every bite as instructed by Leif, Kade put the tray on the floor. Instead of feeling energized by the food, I felt sleepy. My eyes kept drifting shut. Movement roused me as Kade pulled the blankets over me.
“Want to...” I muttered.
“Later.” He kissed my temple.
* * *
It was hard to stay mad at Leif for spiking my food with a sleeping potion when I felt so much better. The early-morning twilight shone through the cracks in the curtain. Kade slept on a pile of blankets on the floor. He looked exhausted, so I tiptoed from the cave without waking him.
I felt bad about slipping out, but I didn’t want to have to drink one of Leif’s potions before I could go anywhere. Hiking up the trail, I checked on the kiln. The glassmakers had been busy. A handful of orbs filled a table. I picked one up and brought it out into the light.
A purple iridescent film coated the outside of the round translucent glass. It resembled a bubble of soap. A small neck and lip for the opening ruined the perfect sphere shape. I ran a finger along the inside of the hole. The orb could be any size as long as it wasn’t too heavy for a Stormdancer to hold, but the opening had to be a specific diameter or else the rubber stopper wouldn’t fit.
Once a Stormdancer filled the orb with the storm’s energy, the stopper sealed the energy inside. When the orb arrived at one of the Stormdance Clan’s factories, a glass tube was inserted through the rubber to transfer the energy from the orb to the machinery.
I hefted the orb. This one weighed about eight pounds and felt solid, but so had the ones that shattered during the last storm season. Carrying it back to the table, I tried to ignore the hum of potential vibrating through my fingers.
I stopped short. Why couldn’t I use an orb to siphon the magic from the sea glass? Because at the time the melt wasn’t ready, and Skippy would have had a fit—not that I cared. If we found more sea glass, I would have to try it.
The rubber stopper fit perfectly. Impressive. In fact, it fit all the orbs on the table with the same snugness. Incredible. My opinion of Ziven and Zetta increased by a factor of ten. All were a beautiful round shape and their sizes matched. Wow.
Only one test left. I found a hammer and pounded on the orb. It broke with a solid crack.
“What are you doing?” Ziven asked with a sharp and accusing tone.
I startled and spun around. “Good morning to you, too.”
He strode into the cave, scanning the equipment as if he’d caught me stealing. “Why did you destroy that orb? It was—”
“Perfect. So far.” I took one of the broken pieces out to the light and inspected it. Ziven followed me.
The thickness of the glass was consistent throughout the section. Good. “Do you have any orbs left over from the previous glassmakers?” I swallowed a sudden lump in my throat. Sir had murdered the three siblings for the orb’s recipe.
“Why?” Again the suspicious tone.
“To compare the density. I just want to be sure these match those before I give Kade my approval.”
“Oh. Okay.” He strode to the back of the cavern and returned with another orb.
I smiled when he handed it to me. It was egg-shaped. One of Nodin’s. He always had trouble shaping the orb. With reluctance, I broke it and evaluated the cross-section.
“Your orbs are wonderful. They should work well for the Stormdancers.”
Ziven beamed and it transformed his whole face. He looked years younger.
“Zetta will be happy to hear it,” he said.
I collected the broken pieces and dumped them into the cullet barrel. One of the joys of working with glass was being able to reuse it. The cullet would be melted in the cauldron and made into new orbs.
* * *
On my way down to the main cavern, I checked in on Kade. He was still sound asleep and I wondered how late he had stayed up the night before. Most of the people who slept around the cook fire remained motionless in their cots. For a second, I panicked, thinking they had all been hit with Curare. But then Leif rolled over and Wick snored.
I scanned the sleepers, searching for Skippy. Not the type to rub elbows with the masses, he must have taken a cot up to one of the empty caves for privacy. Since we arrived at The Cliffs, he had been keeping a low profile. I didn’t mind. It was a nice break not having him by my side all the time.
Not wanting to bother anyone in the common room, I headed to the stables to check on the horses. I found Raiden filling their buckets with fresh water.
“Good thing we have this spring back here,” Raiden said. “Otherwise, we’d have to cart in a tankful of drinkable water every season.”
I helped him feed the horses and muck out the stalls. Quartz nuzzled my ear before eating her breakfast. They all needed exercise. I would ask Kade about riding them to the location where Heli found the sea glass. It would save time and energy.
“Has Heli discovered anything more about the glass?” I asked Raiden.
“No. And she’s obsessed about it. It caused enough trouble, so I told her to toss it back into the sea.”
“It’s harmless now.”
Raiden shot me a dubious look.
I changed the subject. “Your new glassmakers have made some beautiful orbs.”
“Will they work?”
“They should.”
“Should isn’t an encouraging word.”
“There’s always a possibility something may go wrong.” A lesson I learned from experience, yet each time there was an element of surprise.
“Would you stake Kade’s life on it?” Raiden asked. “Because you know he’ll want to be the first one to test the new orbs out.”
I knew. “Yes, I would.”
Raiden stared out to sea for a moment. “That’s more encouraging. Especially since it’s obvious you two are a couple.”
“He hasn’t said anything to you?”
“I’ve hardly spoken to him since he returned. He’s been gone since the end of the cooling season, when he chased after the bastards who murdered Indra and her brothers.” Raiden kicked a rock into the sea. “He sent me a message explaining what happened, but it was basic facts.” He gave me a sly smile. “He’s happier now. And I don’t have to worry too much about him taking unnecessary chances and risking his life. We don’t have many Stormdancers.”
“How many are there?”
He gestured toward the cave. “What you see is what you get.”
“Five! That’s all?” And one was in training.
“We lost Kaya and Gian during the last storm season, and the year before a rookie lost control and drowned. Then with the glassmakers’ deaths, I’m surprised Tebbs even admitted she had the power.”
“She probably heard about the fabulous location and posh accommodations,” I teased.
“Hey! When I was younger, the dancers slept on the beach and cooked for themselves. Now they have cots and privacy screens and a cook. They’re spoiled.”
I laughed. We finished cleaning the stalls and headed back to the common area.
“We must be doing something right,” Raiden said. “When the word spread that we needed glassmakers, we were overwhelmed with applicants.”
“How did you decide to hire Ziven and Zetta?” I asked, glad for this opportunity.
“I wanted to invite you back to help us since you know the orb-making process, but Councilor Stormdance said you were busy.”
Busy disobeying the Council’s orders and hunting down Ulrick. No need to tell Raiden that.
When I didn’t say anything, he continued, “I whittled the field down to two families based on experience and knowledge, but, before I could announce my choice, Councilor Stormdance arrived with Ziven and Zetta. He claimed they were perfect for the job and hired them.”
“You must have been livid.”
“Livid is too tame a word.” He scowled. “The Councilor gives me the responsibility and doesn’t even ask my opinion. It was a big waste of my time.”
“Look on the bright side. They produced a high-quality orb. That’s the most important thing.”
“Yeah, yeah. Silver lining and all that, but I just wish those two had—” he waved his hands as if trying to pull the right word out of the air “—more personality. They’re too serious and suspicious. They always think you’re trying to trick them or tease them. We’re here four months a year, living together. I hope they relax now that they have the orb recipe.”
We returned to the main cave. A few people had roused. Raiden stirred the fire to life and I walked over to Heli. She bent over a table, moving the sea glass around with her fingertips.
“Anything?” I asked.
She startled.
“Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize,” she said. “I should be apologizing to you. To everyone, but no one will listen. They tell me it’s not my fault.”
“It isn’t—”
“Bull. Put yourself in my place. How would you feel?”
I considered. “Lousy.”
“At least you didn’t die.”
“Heli, don’t listen to Leif. He exaggerates and revels in drama.”
“Really? Because two days ago when you were still comatose, he was alarmed. And I watched him have many serious discussions with Kade, who looked distressed.” She cocked her head to the side, peering past my shoulder. “Sort of like he looks now.”
I turned. Barefoot and with sleep-tousled hair, Kade strode toward me. His unbuttoned shirt flapped behind him. I braced for his lecture.
“As much as I enjoyed thinking all kinds of horrible possibilities about your whereabouts, do you think the next time you disappear, you could leave me a note?” Kade asked. “We can even make up a form. I’m gone because of A, Tricky, or B, Devlen, or C, fill in the blank. You can just circle a reason and leave it for me.”
“Wow. That’s some impressive sarcasm,” Heli said. “I’m glad I’m not on the receiving end this time.”
Considering all that had happened to me since I’d known Kade, I couldn’t blame him for being upset. “I’m sorry. I’ll try not to do it again.”
An eyebrow spiked. “Try?”
“Since your suggestion of making up a form actually is a good idea, I’d say try is the best I can do. I have no control over a whole list of things, but what I can control, I’ll make sure to let you know.”
His anger dissipated as he conceded the point. “You liked my form idea?” A hint of a smile played at the corners of his mouth.
“It could use a little work. I think we should put check boxes next to the list—circling the reason might take too long. With a box, I can just check and go.”
“I’ll get right on it.”
* * *
Despite my assurances that I felt fine, Leif wouldn’t approve my request.
“Rest today and you can go tomorrow,” he said.
Kade agreed. “You can help Heli with the code. Maybe find out more about the sea glass.”
I grumped, but listened and even drank a cup of Leif’s wet-dog brew with breakfast.
Heli welcomed my aid. We sorted the glass by color, by number and by letter, hoping to see a pattern. Nothing. The numbers weren’t consecutive. We tried matching the pieces like a jigsaw puzzle, but none of them fit together.
“What can scratch glass?” Heli asked. She held a translucent green one.
“Diamonds can and other hard gemstones. Glass cutters have bits of diamonds on the wheel, but they’re not the nice ones used for jewelry.”
“So anyone could have done it?”
“The scratches, yes. The magic, no.”
“Did you get any sense of the magician when you neutralized them?”
Heli looked so hopeful, I hated to disappoint her. But all I felt was burning pain. “No.”
All our attempts to decipher the markings failed. Heli was determined. She had the trip back to the sea glass’s location all planned out, enlisting help from Leif to form a null shield before we reached the destination to keep everyone safe.
We would ride the horses. Heli with me on Quartz. Raiden insisted on coming along, so Kade offered to share Moonlight. Though not happy about the prospect, Skippy would tag along, too.
Unfortunately, we never had the chance to execute Heli’s plans. As we gathered around the fire to eat dinner, Leif arrived and pulled me aside. He held one of my glass messengers in his hand. “Opal, we have to leave. Now.”
17
“Why?” I asked Leif in alarm. “What happened? Mara—”
“She’s fine. Nothing bad happened. I just received a message from Irys...Master Jewelrose.” He hesitated. “You’re not going to like this, but it makes sense.”
“What? Tell me.” I gripped his arm.
Leif glanced across the fire. The others talked and ate dinner, ignoring us, but Kade watched in concern.
“The Masters have detected a wild magician in the Bloodgood lands. This person is on the verge of flaming out. They’ve ordered us to get down there and stop him—or her.”
“How?”
“This is the part you’re not going to like. The Masters want you to siphon the wild magic into an orb.”
Shock rendered me speechless.
“You’ll save a life and stop the power source from warping. It’s a win-win situation for everyone.”
When put that way, he had a point. “Does the Council know? Did they give permission?”
“Yes, it’s all been approved. We need to leave tonight.”
“Do you have a specific location?”
“All they know is, the person is near the coast, maybe out on the peninsula.”
“Rather vague.”
“Don’t worry. When we get closer, I’ll be able to smell the power.”
Our whispered conversation went on long enough to draw Kade over to us.
“Something wrong?” he asked.
Leif explained about the message.
“Take one of the orbs and any supplies you need,” Kade said.
“I guess we’ll have to tell Skippy,” I said. The thought of traveling with him so soon was an unappealing prospect. “Unless we ditch—”
“No,” Leif said. “As much as I would love to sneak out without him, the Council would be upset.”
“And think about how this errand for the Masters will gain you more of the Council’s trust,” Kade said.
Another good point. Though the more I thought about this mission, the greater my annoyance. The Council treated me as if I were this dangerous entity until a situation arose where I might be beneficial to them.
Kade helped me collect supplies and pack my saddlebags. Ziven fussed about giving up one of the orbs until Kade reminded him that the glassmakers worked for the Stormdancers. Not the other way around.
I joined Leif and Skippy at the stable. Bamboo torches burned, casting a flickering yellow light.
“We’ll leave Moonlight here for now,” Leif said. “We can pick him up on the way back.”
Skippy scowled and muttered as he saddled Beryl. Quartz’s and Rusalka’s ears perked forward. They surged out of their stalls as if excited for another trip. I gathered their tack and we readied the horses.
Kade arrived with a handful of salted fish. “It’s not much, but it’ll get you through a couple days.”
“Thanks.” Leif packed them into his bag. “Good thing I still have all that jerky, and a few new recipes from Raiden.” He finished tightening the girth straps around Rusalka.
I hefted the saddle onto Quartz’s back. Kade hel
ped me center it.
“I guess your surfing lessons will have to wait,” he said.
Finally, one good thing about this unexpected trip. I tried to look disappointed, but couldn’t maintain it for long. “Darn.”
“If it’s any consolation, we’ll have time when you get back. And by then, the storms will have fueled the waves. They’ll be bigger and stronger and more fun.”
“Wonderful.” I loaded the word with as much sarcasm as possible.
Kade failed to be disheartened. “You’re going to love it. Trust me.”
By the time we finished with the horses, the moon crested The Cliffs, coating the sand with a weak light. Stars peppered the night sky. No wind stirred. Calm waves rolled onto the beach with a soft hiss-slap.
“Wear your cloak,” Kade said. “It’s going to be cold tonight.”
We had already said goodbye to the others. Prin seemed happier than the glassmakers over my departure, which surprised me. Heli asked me to keep an eye out for more sea glass and Raiden wished us clear weather.
Leif and Skippy mounted, waiting for me. I wrapped my cloak around my shoulders. Kade pulled me into a tight embrace.
“Please be careful,” he said in my ear.
“I will.” We kissed.
“We’re wasting time,” Leif said.
After another quick hug goodbye, I swung up on Quartz. Leif urged Rusalka into a gallop, heading south. Skippy and I followed.
I enjoyed riding on the beach. The scrunch of sand under the horses’ hooves, the tangy salt air and the sparkles of moonlight on the surface of the sea all combined into an exhilarating experience. Of course, the novelty wore off as my energy waned. The beach looked inviting. Soft sand and the rhythm of the waves lulled me. I dozed in the saddle.
When the sun rose, we stopped for breakfast. Leif agreed to a few hours of sleep, but set a watch schedule.
“I don’t want to be surprised again.” He rubbed his neck. “I’ll take the first shift.”
Skippy collapsed on his mat and fell asleep in no time. Even though exhaustion pulled at my body, my mind raced.
“How long will it take us to get there?” I asked.
Sea Glass Page 22
