Storm Glass g-1

by Maria V. Snyder

  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 a while. 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 e
nd 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, letti
ng 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.