“I’m sure you can handle him with one of your microbursts.” I laughed just imagining Leif’s outraged expression.
“Unless he used a null shield,” Kade said.
The light mood evaporated. “How are your fighting skills?”
“Rusty. I should probably train with you tomorrow.” His gaze turned distant as he stared at the fire. “I wish I had known about null shields before my fight with Tricky and Sir. When they threw that net, it severed my connection with the atmosphere. The shock alone paralyzed me for an instant and the fight was over. I hadn’t realized how much that connection was an unconscious part of me—like breathing—until it was gone. Ever since I was a teen and made my first sand devils on the beach, I’ve been able to access the power source. With a null shield around me, I’m rather useless.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t say that.”
He focused on me. “Why not?”
“I’m sure you can be very useful.”
“How so?”
I leaned against him. “Keeping me warm, for one.”
After a demanding session in the training yard with Captain Marrok the next morning, Kade and I cleaned up and changed. Despite his claims of being rusty, Kade’s skills with a sword were good enough to counter the students and a few instructors.
We decided to eat lunch at the Citadel’s market. Kade needed to purchase supplies for our trip to The Cliffs and I wanted to stop by Alethea’s to inquire about my book order.
“Don’t forget to shop for new boots.” I pointed to his scuffed ones.
He glanced down in surprise. “I guess I do. And I’ll need to buy a sword.”
“Thinking of null shields?”
“Unfortunately.”
Skippy trailed us through the crowded market. I tried to include him, even called him Hale, but his superior demeanor made it impossible for me to interact with him. Besides, if he snubbed me one more time, I sensed Kade would try out his new sword on him.
Alethea’s bookshop bustled with people. While waiting for her to finish with a customer, I browsed the shelves, scanning the titles. A sudden influx of patrons filled the room and I ended up in the small back area alone except for Fisk.
“I don’t know how you managed this,” I said. “I didn’t even see you come in.”
“My special magic,” he said with a wide smile. “Here are all the items you requested.” He handed me a book-shaped package.
“Books?”
“Knowledge is power.” He winked.
“How much do I owe Alethea?”
“It’s taken care of.”
“Thanks.”
“Anytime. Do you need me to distract your companions? Alethea has a back door.”
“Not today.” I laughed at his disappointment. “You’re a scoundrel.”
“I can be a prince for the right price.”
I swung at him and he danced back before slipping through the bookcase. The design of the shelves concealed an opening. Good to know.
The front room remained packed. Poor Kade stood in a corner and two heavyset women pinned Skippy between tables. I gestured for them to go out and tried to weave my way through the store. My companions reached the door, but the two women now blocked my way. After a few minutes, I gave up and returned to the back room to use the clever exit. I would loop around the building.
Crates and trash containers littered the alley. The ripe smell of garbage drifted from burnt-orange-colored pools. A few pigeons pecked at crumbs. All normal except the quiet. After the buzz of the bookstore, the silence felt odd.
Tucking my package under an arm, I kept my hands near my sais as I hurried down the alley. A flash to my right side startled me. I swung around. Sunlight winked off a glass jug. I laughed. The first time alone in weeks and I was a jittery mess. I should enjoy this moment of peace before plunging into the market’s chaos.
I drew in a deep breath and relaxed until a rat the size of a small dog skittered across my boots. Jumping back, I yelped in surprise. So much for my peace. I turned to go. Another large rat ran past me. Two more circled my legs. The whole alley filled with them—a dark moving carpet. Their chittering and squeaks drowned out my panicked gasps.
I bit down on the desire to scream long and loud. One rat climbed my pants, and I knocked him off with my sais. My package dropped as I swung at rats. During one of my frantic jigs, I spotted a hooded figure at the end of the alley. Magic.
The rats were an illusion. Though knowing the swarm existed in my mind didn’t stop the attack. The pain from their sharp teeth still hurt. The thuds as I swatted them away didn’t sound any less solid.
My sais wouldn’t deter them, so I searched for another weapon. The glass jug. Wading toward the jug, I grabbed it and concentrated on the feel of the glass. Potential throbbed under my fingers. Magic coursed through the alley. I channeled it into the jug. Pings sounded. But I controlled the flow, creating a three-foot-wide rat-free zone around my feet.
The thread of magic linked back to the magician. With glass between my hands, I could siphon all of his magic.
I waited. The pings slowed as the rats kept their distance.
The attack stopped and the magician bolted. Relief coursed through me. I leaned on a building, catching my breath. About twenty glass rats filled the jug. I spilled one in my hand. Shrunk down to an inch long, every detail of the rat was perfect. I found my package and dumped the rest of them into it.
Debating about the jug, I hesitated. What if the magician came back? I returned the container to where I found it and pocketed a few of the mini rats just in case.
Not wanting to be a standing target, I hustled down the alley, searching for a way to return to the main street. I rounded a corner and bumped into the magician.
14
I BACKED AWAY, GRABBING THE GLASS RATS. WHY DIDN’T I CHECK around the corner before rushing around it? Because I was an idiot.
He seized my wrists before I could crush the glass. “Relax, Opal. It’s me.” He released me and yanked his hood down.
Skippy. My emotions flipped from terror to anger. “What the—”
“Congratulations,” he said. “You passed.”
My hands remained in fists as I sorted out his comments. “The attack was a—”
“Test, yes.”
“I could have drained you of power.”
“That’s why Master Bloodgood was nearby. I’m not a simpleton.”
“So the whole thing was a setup? How did you…Fisk.”
“Handy fellow. Good thing he’s on our side.”
I thought he was on my side. “Why test me?”
“To see what you would do when ambushed. The Council ordered it. They wanted to gauge your reactions before agreeing to your trip to the Stormdance lands.”
My anger settled into annoyance. I wanted to be upset about the ambush, but I passed the test. We returned to the market. Kade and Master Bloodgood waited for us.
“Did you know about this?” I asked Kade.
“Not until we reached the bookshop.” He peered at me. “Look on the bright side. You can come with me.” He tried a smile.
I still wasn’t happy.
Skippy held out a hand. “I’ll take the glass rats now.”
“No.”
He glanced at Master Bloodgood.
“They’re mine. You can’t do anything with them. In fact, I want my spiders and bees returned to me,” I said to the First Magician. I almost laughed at Skippy’s appalled expression.
“Why?” Master Bloodgood asked.
“Just in case I’m attacked on the road. They’re good weapons to have. And I should have an orb, too.”
Skippy sputtered.
“I will present your request to the Council. When do you plan to leave?”
“As soon as Opal’s finished her messengers,” Kade said.
They all looked at me. “If I can work in the glass shop this afternoon and evening, I’ll have them done today.”
“We’ll head ou
t tomorrow morning,” Kade said.
“I will have an answer for you then.” First Magician paused, then placed a hand on my arm. “You did well, child. Keeping control of your powers despite your panic. Those were huge creatures.”
My skin crawled just thinking about them. I stayed close to Kade as we finished our shopping. Although I scanned the crowd for Fisk, I didn’t see him. No surprise. I fingered one of my rats. Someday I would thank him for tricking me.
When we returned to the Keep, I dumped my packages in my room and hurried to the glass shop. The student helpers seemed glad to see me. They finished their projects so I could use the kiln and workbench.
Piecov stayed to assist me. His skill with molten glass had improved so much I asked him to shape the glass once I trapped the magic inside.
“Try blowing,” I instructed. “Think about pulling a thread of power and sending it into the glass.”
He blew through the blowpipe. Only air reached the slug. No magic. It occurred to me that we could test all the magicians in the Keep to see if they could perform glass magic. The Master Magicians searched for another, but they had been screening young magicians. No one had thought to try established magicians.
But then I wouldn’t be the only glass magician. My leverage would be gone. Piecov handed me the pontil iron with a fresh glob of glass and I turned my attention to creating another messenger.
About an hour into the session, I realized Skippy hadn’t followed me into the shop. A first. Perhaps being tested wasn’t so bad after all.
The shop emptied around suppertime. Piecov shoveled white coal under the kiln and waved bye. My stomach grumbled. I put the finishing touches on my last piece and cracked off the seagull. My sculptures tended to match my mood and thoughts, so all the messengers I crafted today were either seashells or shorebirds.
Pazia entered the shop as I cleaned up.
“Did you ditch your babysitter?” she asked.
“He ditched me.”
“I see you’re still good at driving people away,” she teased. “Even Piecov bolted.”
“Funny. As much as I enjoy your attempts at humor, I need to get something to eat.” I hovered by the door.
“Hold on a minute.” Pazia strode toward the annealing ovens. Mara had bought a second oven to handle all the finished pieces. Glass needed twelve hours to slowly cool to room temperature or else it would crack or break.
“Number two is cooling. The other is done. Piecov forgot to put the sign up.”
“That boy.” She tsked. “I keep telling Mara we need a checklist.” Pazia opened the oven and gasped.
The door blocked my view. “Something break?” I asked. Even with the ovens, breakage occurred.
She pulled back and a bright light filled the room. I squinted at the round glowing object in her hands. Pazia gawked in amazement.
“What’s in there?” I asked.
“Your diamond.”
“You’re kidding.” I stepped closer.
“Not this time.”
“Did you add any magic when you inserted it into the glass?”
“No. The diamond was fully charged. I just spun a globe around it.”
I glanced at the windows, hoping no one noticed the unusual glow. “Can you feel the magic?”
“It’s buzzing in my hands.” The white light shone on her face and her eyes sparkled with excitement. “This is a…super messenger! A hundred times more powerful than your animals.”
“Then try using it.”
“Don’t you want—”
“I can’t use the magic in that form.” A source of frustration, but not important at the moment.
She closed her eyes as her body stilled.
“No Greenblade bees,” I said.
A quick grin before she fisted the ball and concentrated. The tools on the gaffer’s bench floated into the air. She spun them in a circle and set them down. A pile of rags erupted into flames. Pazia opened her eyes. The blaze died. Her gaze unfocused and she appeared to be lost in her thoughts.
After a few minutes, I called her name in concern.
“Wait,” she said.
Easy for her to say—she wasn’t dying of curiosity. I fidgeted until she “woke.”
“Wow. That was…” She bounced with exhilaration. “I talked to my father. He’s coming to graduation!”
“Your father?” He lived over nine days away. “Was he near one of my messengers?”
“No. He’s a magician. He’s been so angry with me, but he promised he would come.”
“He didn’t need a messenger to hear you? You went directly to him?”
“Yes! I surprised him when I tapped on his mental defenses.”
I considered the implications. “I don’t think Yelena could reach him from here without a messenger.”
Pazia exposed the glass ball in her hand. It no longer glowed. In fact, black streaks crossed the center and cracks fractured the surface.
“The diamond has shattered. When I used up the magic, it broke,” she said. “They’re the hardest substance in the world.” She spun the ball. “Incredible.”
“And not very useful,” I said, taking the broken sphere. The diamond had splintered and couldn’t be recharged. A failed experiment.
“They’re good for onetime use. Could be useful for emergencies.” She snagged her lower lip with her teeth. “But the cost to produce them would be steep. Prohibitive for all but the very rich. My father would be able to buy a few super messengers. He would love to own the regular messengers, too. He gets so frustrated having to send a request to the station downtown and waiting for approval.”
A familiar story. However, Vasko Cloud Mist had money and political influence. “How powerful is your father?”
“He tested for Master level, but failed.”
He would be an excellent ally. “I can make a few extra messengers for him.”
“Are you allowed?”
“Why not? They’re mine. I used to sell them in a store before Yelena discovered how to use them.” I retrieved three of the ones I made yesterday and wrapped them for her to take. I could replace them tonight.
Piecov returned that evening to help me finish the messengers. The annealing ovens were loaded with them. My arms and wrists ached from the long hours of work. I arrived at my quarters with no memory of the trip.
I almost groaned out loud when I spotted my empty saddlebags on the floor, but clamped a hand over my mouth so I wouldn’t wake Kade. He slept on the couch. I tiptoed to my table. Fisk’s package remained unopened. Tearing the paper as quietly as possible, I removed the outer wrap, uncovering two books.
The first title, The History of Glassmaking in Sitia, made sense, but the other, Infamous Assassins, didn’t until I opened it. Fisk had a warped sense of humor. From the outside, it looked like a regular book. Inside, sections had been gouged from the pages, creating a nice hiding place for a switchblade and a set of lock picks.
I grasped the black handle of the weapon and triggered the blade. It shot out with a satisfying snick. Kade bolted to his feet. Air swirled around the room, then died.
“Your sais not enough?” he asked.
“No. Too easy to disarm, while this—” I brandished the blade “—is easy to hide and to surprise.” I had quoted Janco. He would be proud and obnoxious at the same time.
“Aside from any more Council-ordered tests, you won’t be in any danger.”
I’d heard that before. “It doesn’t hurt to be prepared.” I closed the knife.
“It won’t do much against a sword.”
“I know. But it’d be great against a null shield net.”
He flinched, conceding the point. “I’m done.” He pointed to his backpack. “I filled Moonlight’s saddlebags with feed and a few camping supplies in case we can’t find a travel shelter.” He stretched and yawned. “Once you’re packed, we’ll be ready.”
I dreaded packing. I’d rather be crawling into bed with Kade.
He sen
sed my reluctance. “Do you want help?”
“How about I just buy everything I need on the road and skip this?”
“You must get a generous student stipend.”
I didn’t. In fact, I had spent my last gold coin for the knife and picks. All I had left were a few silver coins, which should be enough to get me to the coast and back. Dragging the saddlebags to my armoire, I sorted through my clothes while Kade watched from the bed.
The next morning, we saddled the horses while the Stable Master muttered and fussed. Skippy scowled. I knew he wasn’t happy about the trip, but he refrained from complaining. He only snapped at me once, when I checked over his supplies.
“How many trips have you taken to The Cliffs?” I asked him. No reply. “My point. You’re going to need your cloak. If the breeze is coming off the sea, it’ll be cold.”
“We do have fire pits, Opal,” Kade said. “I think the sea breeze is refreshing. Not everyone hates the cold,” he teased.
“I’m not fond of it, either,” Leif said behind me.
I jerked.
“Sorry.” Leif’s smirk countered his apology. He dropped his saddlebags on the ground. “Do you want to check my supplies, too? I packed my stuffed bear and wool undergarments. Do you think I’ll be warm enough?”
Ignoring his joke, I asked, “Are you coming with us?”
“Wouldn’t miss it.”
I studied his neutral expression. “Did the Council order you?”
“Nope. I volunteered. Especially since a certain Stormdancer sent me my own personal thunderstorm.” Leif shot Kade a pointed glare.
Kade busied himself with adjusting the stirrups.
“Mara hasn’t given me any peace because of a certain bigmouthed dancer, so I figured I’d come along,” Leif said. “Here, this is from Master Bloodgood.” He pulled a leather sack from his bags and swung it at me.
I caught it and pulled it open, pouring my glass spiders and bees into my hand. Sunlight glinted from the pile. “No orb?”
“Not yet. Bain said the Council can only handle one step at a time.”
Fair enough. “Since you’re coming, does that mean Skippy can stay here?” I asked, trying not to let hope taint my voice.
Sea Glass g-2 Page 16
