The glass shop’s welcoming hum greeted me. I entered into the dry warmth and relaxed. Piecov sat at the table, studying from a huge text. He jumped to his feet when he saw me.
“I just filled the kiln,” he said.
“Then why aren’t you back in bed?”
He shrugged and looked around. “I like it here. The first year’s barracks are crowded and noisy.”
I remembered the night sounds of so many people in one room. The snores, the homesick crying, the whispered conversations, giggles and sighs. The steady roar of the kiln would be considered peaceful in comparison.
“Maybe we should install a cot for those who have overnight shifts.”
“Great idea.” He peered at me for a moment. “Why are you here? The next feeding isn’t until dawn.”
“Feeding?”
He gave me a sheepish grin. “The kiln’s like a baby. Instead of giving it milk, we feed it coal.”
“Appropriate.”
His eyes still held a question.
“I couldn’t sleep,” I said.
He nodded as if he understood completely. “This place has a certain draw. Know what I mean?” Piecov gestured to the kiln.
“I do. There is such potential contained within the cauldron. A whole vat of melted glass just waiting to be gathered and spun into something...wonderful.”
“Yes!” He looked surprised by his outburst then ducked his head in embarrassment. “Well...I only made a lumpy paperweight so far.”
“I still have my very first paperweight.”
“You do?”
“I had to stand on a box to reach in with the punty rod. But I did everything myself. It resembled a squashed apple, but my parents were so proud of my creation I thought it was the best paperweight in the world.”
“I guess I’ll keep mine.”
“It’ll be a good gauge of how much you improve. When you become frustrated when a piece cracks or turns out wrong, you can look back at that paperweight and see just how far you’ve come.”
He brightened at the idea and I suggested we work the glass together. He made another paperweight and I helped him craft a swan. The items in the annealing oven had finished cooling. I removed them and put his new creations inside, marking the date and time on the door as I moved the oven next to the kiln.
Inspecting the finished pieces, I lined them along the table. Two of Ulrick’s vases popped in my hands. One of Mara’s bowls had cracked so I tossed it in the cullet barrel. The contents of the barrel would be added to the cauldron and remelted. Four of my glass animals survived the cooling process.
Among the four was a little dog sitting on his haunches. His ears perked forward as if he hoped for a treat. He glowed with magic and promise, reminding me of Piecov.
At dawn, another student arrived to feed the kilns. Piecov and I left. I brought the animals with me. Zitora needed them and I planned to drop them at her office before going back to my rooms. On the way, I stopped at the infirmary.
Healer Hayes was just leaving Pazia’s room.
“She’s regaining strength. We won’t know about her magic for a while,” he said.
“Can I visit?”
“As long as you don’t wake her.”
A lantern burned on the night table in her room. Turned down to the lowest setting, the feeble flame cast a weak light. She didn’t stir at the sound of my arrival. Nor when I sat in the chair beside her bed.
I remembered watching my brother, Ahir, sleep. Relaxed and innocent, masking the high energy, annoying and smart-assed boy underneath. Asleep, Pazia’s smooth beauty held a regal quality. Easy for me to imagine her a queen of the Cloud Mist Clan, needing no gems to augment her loveliness.
Underneath was another story. While she plagued me over the years, working the diamond mission had given me another perspective. Perhaps she was right. Maybe I was the one with the attitude and big chip on my shoulder. Maybe I nursed it. Clung to it and refused to see the positive. Maybe I had kept everyone at a distance, afraid to make a new friend. Afraid to care about someone, because I might lose them the way I had lost my sister, Tula. I probably had acted as Kade does now. Cold and aloof.
The realization shot through me like a crack zigzagging through glass. My loneliness had been my own fault. The blame rested solely within me. I gazed at the sleeping girl, wishing I could help her.
I left the little dog by her bedside. His hopeful demeanor might brighten the room. Before I left, she said my name. I braced for her recriminations, determined to listen to her.
She held the statue, examining it in the dim light. “For me?” she asked.
“Yes. Can you see the glow inside?” I waited. If she couldn’t then she had lost all her magic.
“Purple fire.”
I knelt beside her bed with relief. “Pazia, I’m so—”
“Shut up,” she said. “Don’t apologize.”
“But—”
“Didn’t you hear me? Are you a simpleton as well as talentless?”
I clamped my lips together. Her anger and hatred were justifiable.
“Don’t say another word. I had a lot of time to think about this. Losing my powers was my fault. Opal,” she warned, correctly reading my desire to contradict her, “I was sure I could beat you. I wanted to make your experiment a failure. You only stole what I offered. And I offered you everything.” She placed the dog on the nightstand. “My current state is the price for my conceit. Now we’re even.”
A few moments passed as I tried to comprehend her words. “Even?”
She closed her eyes. “Those accidents over the years weren’t due to your clumsiness or lack of magic. I am...was... responsible for all of them. I did it to torment you, and to prove to everyone that you didn’t deserve to be here.”
I laughed long and hard.
Pazia stared at me in disbelief. “You’re not upset?”
“This morning, I would have been. But I realized you were right about me. I kept my distance from everyone because I was afraid of getting too close. Plus I’m happy I didn’t cause all those accidents.”
“I still think you don’t belong here.”
“Even now?”
“Yes.”
“Guess I’ll just have to prove you wrong.”
* * *
Of course, Ulrick wasn’t happy I left without him. He thought my new abilities made me reckless. No sense contradicting him. Maybe having the spiders and bees with me added to my confidence.
We carried our saddlebags to the barn. Mara helped Leif saddle Rusalka.
“How’s my favorite glass wizard today?” Leif asked.
“Better now that you’re here.”
“Wouldn’t miss it. Besides, I haven’t seen my sister in a while. I need my danger fix.”
“You don’t really think Yelena’s in danger?” I asked.
“No. She’ll just use me as bait and cast me aside.” Leif sighed dramatically. “I’m so deprived of attention, I’ll take any little bit.”
“Leif, you’re being melodramatic. You’re very important,” Mara said.
She continued to fawn over him. Mara would be staying behind to run the glass shop. Ulrick searched for the Stable Master.
After several minutes of listening to Mara’s annoying praise, I said, “For sand’s sake, we won’t be gone long.”
“Oh hush!” Mara said. “I’ve had to work with you and Ulrick as you make moon eyes at each other all day. You can handle a few minutes of goodbyes.”
“Moon eyes! We kept a professional attitude in the shop at all times.”
Mara’s humor faded. “I know. Actually I would like to see more mooning with you two.”
“Spare me the advice. Please.”
But she wouldn’t listen.
“He’s gorgeous, Opal. Relax. Have fun. On your trip to the Moon lands take him into the woods one night and make him forget about all his troubles. Do you want a few pointers?”
“Mara!” I said.
Leif turned every shade of red. “Milk oats...ah...I’ll see if I can get...” He disappeared in a hurry.
“What?” Mara asked. “If you don’t need pointers, what’s stopping you?” When I didn’t answer she said, “It’s that Stormdancer, isn’t it?”
“His name is Kade, and it has nothing to do with him. We’re taking it slow.”
“Slow? I’ve seen turtles mate faster.”
“Mara, what’s gotten into you?”
She slid her foot forward. Just below the hem of her skirt, two red scabs still marked the snake’s bite on her ankle. “I had seconds to live. You know how people will say their life flashed in front of their eyes?”
“Yes.”
“Not for me. My future hopes and dreams played in my mind. All the things I would never experience, and I had only one regret. That I hadn’t shown Leif how much I cared for him. After you saved me, I decided I would stop hoping and dreaming, and start acting. So when the snake finally catches up to me, I won’t have any regrets.” She stared at me as if seeking an answer. “You’ve been in a few bad situations. Who did you think of? What did you regret? Have you changed anything?”
There was no quick reply to her questions.
“Think about it.”
Ulrick returned smiling. “Stable Master said I could take Moonlight.”
“He’s still here?” Leif asked. His hands were full of milk oats. Rusalka charged toward him. “Whoa, girl! These are for later.” He danced back, trying to avoid the horse’s determined lunge for the treats. “Now we can cut through the Avibian Plains and reach Fulgor faster. Although we’re not going anywhere if you two don’t get your horses saddled.” Leif shooed us into motion.
Quartz nickered at me and Moonlight’s head poked over his stall door. Ulrick and I brought the horses out and saddled them.
“Did I hear Leif right?” Ulrick asked. “Cut through the Avibian Plains?”
“Yes.”
“Won’t the Sandseed’s protective magic confuse us?”
“Leif is a distant cousin of the Sandseeds so he’s welcome in the plains. And...”
“And, what?”
I was reluctant to mention magic to Ulrick and destroy his good mood.
“Opal?”
“And Leif mentioned how fast the Sandseed horses can run in the plains, but I’ve never been there before even though the border abuts my family’s glass factory. Have you?”
“Are you kidding? Growing up, going into the plains was the dare with my friends. The way to prove to everyone you’re a man.”
“Did you prove yourself?”
He laughed. “I guess I’ll find out.”
The three of us left the Citadel and headed east toward the Moon Clan lands. Farm fields spotted with houses and barns spread before us as we traveled though Featherstone country. The Citadel was located in the southwest corner of the Featherstone Clan at a point bordering the Krystal and Stormdance lands and the Avibian Plains.
It was a couple of weeks into the cold season. The air smelled damp. Dark clouds in the west threatened to dump the rain and sleet mix so common this time of year. I peered at the sky, hoping the weather would hold off a few days. Snow would even be welcome. Better than having the road turn into a mushy mess.
I wondered if Kade could turn rain into snow. My knowledge of Stormdancers’ powers was limited to what I had learned in school. I had been surprised when Kade told me storms had moods. What else didn’t I know about the storms or Kade? And why was I so curious?
Mara’s encouragement to consider my regrets came to mind. In order for me to answer her questions, I would have to review difficult events. Not a pleasant task.
“It’s four days to Fulgor, but if we cross into the northern hump of the plains, we can make it there in three,” Leif said.
“Wouldn’t that be a few miles out of the way?” Ulrick asked.
“Yep. We’ll head straight east then turn north instead of going northeast.”
“Then—”
“Don’t worry.” Leif grinned widely. “You’ll find out soon enough.”
We stopped for the night in a travelers’ shelter, still within the Featherstone boundaries. No other travelers were inside. When Leif set a watch schedule, I asked for the last shift. My lack of sleep the previous night had caught up with me and I couldn’t even follow the conversation at dinner. I headed straight for bed. Ulrick volunteered for the first shift and Leif brought me my pack.
“Ugh. What’s in here? Rocks?” Leif asked.
“Glass.”
He raised his thick eyebrows, prompting me to continue.
“A bunch of spiders and bees. An empty orb.” It also contained Kade’s orb, but I was reluctant to tell him.
“Empty?”
“For an emergency only.”
“Scary.”
“Believe me, I know.” If attacked, would I use the orb to drain another’s power? Maybe, if there was no other option. One thing I did know, if Tricky lost his power when I had channeled his magic, I would not regret that.
The night remained quiet. Leif woke me a few hours before dawn.
“Your turn. Try not to wake everyone this time,” he said, yawning.
I swatted him and headed outside to check on the horses.
The darkness pressed down. Moist air blew through the trees, rattling the dead leaves. The wind had extinguished three of the lanterns. Flames clutched the other lamps in desperation, flapping in resistance with each gust. Clouds blocked the moon. Once my eyes adjusted, I checked the stable. Quartz dozed, leaning against Rusalka. Moonlight came over and nuzzled my hand, looking for a treat. The three horses shared one large stall.
Nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing to cause concern. So why did I feel watched? I circled the two buildings. An icy splat hit my forehead. I cried out in alarm and yanked my sais from my cloak. Another cold drop struck my cheek. Chagrined, I replaced my sais as the drizzle turned into a soaking rain fueled by the wind. I found a calm spot next to the shelter and pulled my hood over my head.
For the next two hours, I kept a diligent watch. The storm would be a great cover for anyone sneaking up. The wind swirled and diluted smells, moaning in sorrow. Why sorrow? The sound almost matched the keening emanating from Kade’s orb. As the storm approached, the orb’s song grew louder to me. No one else heard it, but Leif had remarked on sensing magic.
Kade told me the energy trapped inside the orb would get agitated when another storm came near. But the mournful sounds of the orb held no distress, just a lonely ache to be free.
My imagination no doubt. It tended to exaggerate emotions and see things that weren’t there. Just like the black shape slinking between shadows. Or the brief movement to my left—pure imagination. Right? I gripped the handles of my sais.
The storm raged for a moment, blocking out all sense of my surroundings. A sudden blast of wind extinguished the remaining lantern light.
Something struck me behind my knees. I fell forward as pain flared. Arms wrapped around me and a hand clamped over my mouth. Lifted off the ground, I yanked my sais from my cloak and blindly struck out. I was rewarded by one yelp before my arms were pinned.
I struggled. There had to be three or four of them. A sharp point jabbed the skin below my left ear.
“Quit fighting or I’ll shove my knife into your throat,” a man’s voice growled.
24
I stopped struggling.
“Smart choice,” the man said.
I didn’t recognize his voice, which gave me little comf
ort, considering my circumstances. The knife stayed against my throat, and the hand remained over my mouth. A wet dog smell emanated from him.
“I’ve got her. Go,” he ordered.
The men who held me put me down. They headed for the shelter. Leif and Ulrick slept within and I couldn’t warn them. Powerless, I counted five of them as they slipped inside. My own fear forgotten, I worried for my companions.
Although muted by the wind and rain, shouts, curses and the sounds of fighting reached me, I tensed. The knife dug deeper.
“Relax. It’ll all be over soon,” the man said.
The next few seconds moved as if we stood there for days. Five against two, but Leif had learned to fight from Valek. I cursed the storm’s wild winds. Otherwise the horses would have alerted us to the danger. And now the storm masked the noise of the attack, so the three horses huddled together without knowing the danger.
When one of the attackers signaled from the door, I knew Leif and Ulrick had lost.
“Told you. Let’s go.” He kept me with him as he guided me into the shelter.
Ulrick and Leif knelt by the hearth. Hands on their heads, various cuts bleeding on their arms and their spines stiff with anger.
Ulrick’s concern turned to relief when he saw me. “Are you all right?”
“No talking!” One of the four men guarding them hit Ulrick with the flat of his sword.
Ulrick winced with pain, but kept quiet. His helpless situation was all my fault. Leif was used to trouble, but not Ulrick. Mara’s comments replayed in my mind.
What if Ulrick died? her voice asked.
Guilt, of course, for bringing him along. Missing his smile and protective bearishness. Missing his company.
Regrets?
Wishing I hadn’t snapped at him in annoyance and had been more considerate. Wishing I had been a better guard.
Unkempt and wearing tattered clothes, the men kept their weapons pointed at Leif and Ulrick. The rain left clean streaks on the men’s dirty faces.
My captor released me, pushing me toward my friends. I stumbled.
Storm Glass Page 27
