Storm Glass g-1

by Maria V. Snyder

  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 u
nder 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 to ward 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 cou
nter 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.