Sea Glass

15

FOUR AGAINST ONE. I WAITED WITH MY SAIS HELD IN A DEFENSIVE position. My companions had all been shot with Curare-laced darts, the horses, too. No help from anyone.

The black-clad figures approached with their swords pointed at me. I couldn’t fight four at once. Not with my sais, but my pocket held my glass bees and spiders. I would need a free hand.

“Surrender,” a man’s voice called. “Put down your weapon.”

I threw my sais at the two closest ambushers. One clanged on a sword, the other flew past a head—just missing it. But now my hands held glass.

“Leave now, or die,” I called over the wind.

They hesitated and glanced at their leader—the farthest from me. The leader motioned them to continue. “Play nice, Opal,” he said.

I recognized his voice. Ice filled my veins and coated my heart. Tricky. How did he escape from Ixia?

“Don’t come any closer,” I said. “I have Greenblade bees. One sting and you’re dead.”

“Go ahead. Crush them.” Tricky joined his friends, forming a semicircle around me. A black hood covered his head.

Sensing a trap, I considered. I didn’t want to kill anyone, and had hoped to scare them off. Perhaps bees with instructions to buzz around would chase them away.

Tricky didn’t want me dead. At least, not yet. I knew what he wanted. My blood. No Curare for me. Curare paralyzed muscles and magic, and would neutralize any power in my blood.

Kade’s comments about being in a desperate situation flashed through my mind. I had warned them. My hands, though, wouldn’t move to break the glass. Since I hadn’t been pricked, it left one explanation. Magic held me immobile.

Tricky sheathed his sword and strolled over to me. He grabbed the glass from my useless hands, pulled my cloak off and searched me for more weapons. Revulsion churned in my chest at his rough touch as he emptied my pockets. More bees and spiders joined the others. He tossed my possessions to the side.

“Len and Aubin, keep watch. Boar, my pump.” Tricky called out orders. “You, sit.” He pointed to me.

A force pushed on my shoulders and my knees bent on cue. Once down, Tricky’s magic continued to hold me as if bandages wrapped around my body.

I studied the man unpacking supplies. He handed an unfamiliar device to Tricky and pushed his sleeves up. The firelight illuminated the tattoos on his arms.

Blood magic strikes again. Only one person was needed to spread the plague. Frustration pumped in my heart fueled by fear and anger. If the Council had only believed me about Devlen, this wouldn’t be happening.

When all looked ready, Tricky knelt next to me with a knife in his hand. Sweat rolled down his face and he grunted when his magic released me.

“Don’t try anything.” He warned. “I can immobilize you again.” He ripped off my left sleeve and wrapped a thin rope around my upper arm, pulling it tight. “Lie down. Stretch out your arm and make a fist.”

No choice, I did as instructed. As I unfolded my legs, I felt a lump at the base of my spine. I tucked my free hand under my back. Tricky tapped the underside of my forearm. He tried to hide his fatigue from me, but I kept my gaze on him. If he was too weak to use magic, I might be able to get to my glass bees piled nearby.

“I dreamed of killing you for stealing my magic,” Tricky said. “Then I wanted to torture you for ruining our plans and having me arrested in Ixia.” He stroked my neck with his fingers, rubbing his thumb over my windpipe. “But you did me a huge favor. I should be thanking you.”

I shrank away from his touch. “Favor?”

He leaned close to my ear. “You didn’t tell the authorities I still had magic. That you couldn’t take it from me,” he whispered.

Horror splashed through me. “But I told…” Kade, asking him to tell Janco. But with all the cleanup and other explanations, my message must have been forgotten. I should have made sure. “It was such a small amount.”

“It was enough to fool the guards and escape.” Tricky traced the blue vein down the inside of my arm with the tip of his blade. “One little problem. I can’t increase my powers unless I use your blood.”

The desperate thumping in my chest filled my ears. About halfway between my wrist and elbow, Tricky drew his knife across the inside of my forearm. A burning pain sizzled and blood welled.

He covered the wound with a rubber suction cup and held it in place. A slurping noise came from behind him.

“It’s working,” Boar said. He squeezed a rubber ball attached to the tube. Red liquid filled a glass container in his lap. “It’s slow.”

He untied the rope around my arm, and instructed Boar, “Use your healing magic, but instead of stopping the flow, encourage her blood to gush. Draw strength from me.” Tricky’s face creased with effort. He rubbed my arm. “Relax. It’ll be over in a minute. No pain. You’ll just go to sleep.”

I felt light-headed and realized he planned to suck me dry. I couldn’t just lie here and let him. Fuzzy thoughts tried to plan. Glass container. Rubber tubing. Lump in my spine—my switchblade.

Pulling the weapon from the small of my back, I yanked it free and triggered the blade. Snick. Tricky’s gaze switched to my right hand. I jabbed him in the shoulder before he could draw power. He scrambled back in surprise, dropping the tube. I scooped up a handful of glass—spiders and a bee—crushing them.

The noise and flash stunned Boar for a second. Recovering, he gained his feet, cradling the container of my blood. The two other guards rushed toward me with their weapons drawn, but I pointed to the single Greenblade bee, hovering in midair. “Stop right there!”

They paused next to Boar. “Tricky, help,” Len cried.

No response. Tricky didn’t move. A lesson I learned from Yelena—treating my blade with Curare.

“Give me the jar,” I said.

“Aubin!”

A blur of motion and a knife skewered the bee. It fell to the ground, too heavy to fly. I ordered my spiders to attack them. A moment of confusion created a distraction while I found another bee. I sent this one to break the jar, but the glass was too thick. My last bee hovered for a mere second before being impaled with a knife.

“Don’t move. Or the next one goes into your heart,” Aubin said, aiming a dagger at me. “Drop your weapons and keep your hands where I can see them.”

I released the spiders and turned my palms out.

“Boar, can we finish the job?” Aubin asked.

“Not without Tricky. My magic is too weak.”

“Give me the jar. Help Len carry Tricky.” Aubin tucked the container under his arm.

With Boar’s help, Len draped Tricky over his shoulder.

Aubin gestured to me with his knife. “Come.”

“No.” Tricky wanted me alive. They could harm me, but probably wouldn’t kill me until after he woke. I hoped his goons didn’t know how to counter Curare.

Aubin considered. “We can force you. You’ll be hurt.”

“Doesn’t matter.” I swept a hand out. “My companions will wake well before Tricky. You won’t be able to get far carrying him and dragging me along. Once they can move, you’ll have a Stormdancer and two powerful magicians after you. I’d give you a twenty-percent chance of living through the encounter.” I tapped my finger on my lips. “Hmm…I changed my mind.”

“You’ll come with us?” Aubin asked.

“No. I think twenty percent is too high. I forgot Curare doesn’t last as long on Stormdancers…something with the electrical charge in the atmosphere neutralizing the drug. I think a ten-percent chance of survival is more accurate. It is the storm season.”

I kept my gaze steady as Aubin studied me. Dizziness spun behind my eyes, but I ignored it.

“Then I’ll kill your companions so there is no need to worry about them following us.”

My heart flipped. I used every bit of energy to keep my voice calm. “Zero chance of survival.”

“Why?”

“One of the magicians is the brother of the Soulfinder. If she doesn’t scare you, then her heart mate, Valek, should. Not only is he the Commander’s assassin, but he’s immune to all magic. Plus, you’d have every Stormdancer after you, and the Master Magicians, as well.”

“Let’s just go,” Boar said. “We have enough blood.”

“We can’t leave her here. She’ll send her bees after us,” Aubin said.

Boar muttered and searched the ground. He found my sais and grasped them by the shafts. He strode toward me. “Do you know how to fight with these?”

Confused, I glanced at Aubin.

“Answer his question.”

“Yes,” I said.

“Do you know the soldier’s honor code for a fair fight?” Boar asked.

“No.”

He stepped closer and held the sais out. I automatically reached for the hilts, but he snatched them away.

“Neither do I.” Boar swung one of the sais, aiming at my temple.

Pain pulsed in my head, waking me. I shaded my eyes from the searing reflection of sunlight off the shale ground. My body ached and my arm stung. I stayed prone for a while, chasing fuzzy memories. When I remembered the attack, I scrambled upright, searching for Tricky and his goons.

No one except Kade, Leif, Skippy and the horses. They all remained paralyzed by Curare and would be immobile for another…I checked the sky. A few hours past dawn. From my unfortunate experience with the drug, I knew they would be incapacitated for almost a full day. At least my companions could hear, see, breathe and swallow.

A hiccuppy laugh bubbled. Kade and the others had heard the whole fight. I wondered what I would get in trouble for. Falling for Boar’s honor-code trick or for letting them get away with my blood.

I needed to focus before the shakes came or I passed out again. Stumbling over to Leif’s pack, I found the Theobroma lumps. The wind had died down and a few half-burnt branches had survived last night’s flames. One good thing about being unable to light fires with magic was I kept matches in my saddlebags.

I coaxed the meager firewood into a small blaze and melted the Theobroma. Once the brown liquid cooled enough not to burn skin, I spooned the antidote into each of my companion’s mouths, guessing how much was needed. For the horses, I coated my fingers with it and rubbed my hands on their tongues.

My arms shook by the time I finished. Shivers racked my body. I wrapped my blanket around me and lay next to Kade, pulling his blanket over us both.

Leif woke me an instant after I fell asleep. At least, that was how it felt to me. I blinked in the light, cursing the brightness. My heavy limbs refused to move. I didn’t have enough energy to stand.

“Drink this,” Leif said.

He tipped a mug toward my lips. A foul-smelling liquid sloshed. I tried to pull away, but he put his hand under my head, dripping the yellow substance into my mouth.

“Swallow or I’ll hold your nose closed until you do,” Leif threatened.

I gulped and winced. It tasted like dirty wash water.

“It will help your body produce more blood. Make you feel stronger so we can get off this horrid rock and down to the soft sands of the beach.”

“Go on without me.” I shooed halfheartedly. “It’s not like you need me to save you or anything…Oh, wait. I did save you.”

“And you took your sweet time, too. Although I give you major bonus points for your…ah…very creative arguments about why they shouldn’t kill us.”

I shivered at the memory as Leif urged me to gulp more of his potion.

“I meant it, don’t let me keep you from the beach.”

“Nice try, but you’re going to drink all of this. Besides, if I tried to leave, a certain Stormdancer would probably zap me with lightning.”

“Where is Kade?” I sat up, feeling better.

Leif looked past my shoulder. “Walking the horses. They weren’t happy about being paralyzed. Once we calmed them, they let Kade work off their stiffness.” He met my gaze. “I’m sorry, Opal. We should have posted guards, but I thought the horses would warn us of any intruders. I never thought someone would use Curare on them.”

“Curare plus the wind. Tricky’s gang probably stayed downwind where they couldn’t smell them.”

“I notified the authorities in Thunder Valley with my messenger. Hopefully they’ll be caught, but we should take you home—”

“No. I’d love to chase them down, but the Stormdancers need orbs.”

“What if they come back?”

“They won’t. Tricky has what he came for.” And the spread of blood magic continued. For now. I would stop it. I promised.

“What happens when he runs out of your blood?” Leif asked.

“We’ll use me as bait and go fishing.”

“I’m serious, Opal.”

“So am I.”

Of course, my bravado didn’t last long. When Kade arrived with the horses, I wanted to melt into his arms and forget the whole nightmare. He held me in a tight embrace.

“You did well last night,” he said with pride in his voice. “I wanted to shout with joy when you regained consciousness. Until then…” His body stiffened as he struggled to find the right words. “Until then, it was hell. Not as bad as watching you be tortured by Devlen, but rather horrible. And here I’ve feared null shields, not knowing that…this…Curare is a million times worse.”

I agreed and Kade stepped back to search my face.

“You’ve been hit by it, too?” he asked.

I realized Kade didn’t know much about my history. Every time we were together we had a specific problem to deal with. Since he had returned from Ixia, we hadn’t spent too much time talking.

“Yes. Unfortunately, I have a lot of experience with Curare.”

“When?”

“It’s a long story. I’ll tell you later.” I leaned against him.

He wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “Will the…strangeness go away? I can use my magic, but I still feel vulnerable. Fragile.”

“That’s the antidote,” I explained. “Theobroma opens a person’s mind to magical influences and destroys a magician’s mental defenses.” I gestured to Leif and Skippy. “If a weaker magician like Tricky attacked them now, they wouldn’t be able to counter him. It doesn’t last as long as Curare. You should be fine by nightfall.”

“Is it true Curare works differently for Stormdancers?”

“No. I lied to them, hoping to give them an incentive to leave without killing anyone.” I hugged my arms to my chest. Tricky’s goons had just started using blood magic, and hadn’t reached the point when the all-consuming desire to gain magical power overruled logic. Otherwise, they would have killed without a second thought.

“Opal,” Leif called. He crouched next to the remains of the fire.

I joined him.

He pointed to the two Greenblade bees. “They look like good knives, but I’m not crazy enough to pull them out.”

Interesting. The bees were dead, but hadn’t disappeared. I reviewed last night’s attack and realized I hadn’t given them a task.

“Rest in peace,” I said. The knives clattered to the ground. Their clean blades shone in the sunlight.

“And I thought Yelena had eccentric powers,” Leif said. “Finding lost souls seems normal compared to commanding dead bees.”

“Not funny.” I collected the glass spiders that had been scattered during the fight and found my sais. “Have you seen any of my bees?”

“After Boar knocked you unconscious, Aubin ordered him to take them.”

“Why? They can’t use them.”

Leif picked up Aubin’s weapons and stood. “I’m guessing Aubin has excellent knife-throwing skills. It’s a good way to attack from a distance and to attack without being seen. Just like your bees.” He met my gaze. “Just how far can your bees travel? Could they find someone out of sight?”

“I don’t know.”

“Neither does anyone else. Theoretically, you could send a bee to assassinate the Commander in Ixia without leaving the Keep. Valek would no longer be the most infamous assassin. Perhaps Aubin was on to something.”

As Leif’s words sunk in, fingers of ice brushed my skin. I had used my spiders and bees for self-defense, never once considering other possibilities. Why? As Devlen had said, I was too nice. If I wanted to stop Tricky and blood magic, I needed to start thinking like them.

Quartz seemed more than happy to continue our journey. We arrived at the top of The Cliffs by midafternoon. A hundred-and-fifty-foot drop-off ended at a sandy beach. Waves capped with white foam crashed along the shoreline and around the strips of rocks, pointing toward the horizon. Sunlight glittered on the sea’s blue-green surface.

The tangy smell of the salt water reached us. I inhaled a deep breath. No matter how strong the storm, I would always feel safe here. The cries and squawks of seabirds combined with the shushing of the waves—a welcoming sound.

“You have got to be kidding me,” Leif said.

Mounted on Moonlight, Kade waited for the rest of us to join him at the start of the trail.

“That’s not a path, that’s…suicide.” Leif hunched over his saddle. “That’s not wide enough to fit a sheep, let alone a full-grown horse.”

“The horses fit fine,” Kade said. “We use them to haul supplies to the caverns.”

“Caverns?” Skippy asked. His pale face reflected his queasiness. He hadn’t said more than two words since last night’s attack.

“You’ll see.” I dismounted. “Unless you’re a Stormdancer or a mountain goat, it’s better to walk down. Concentrate on the trail and don’t look past the edge. Go on, Kade. We’ll meet you on the beach.”

He clicked his tongue, urging Moonlight down the steep path. Show-off. Good thing Sandseed horses refused to wear shoes or else he would have skated the whole way at that speed.

I glanced at Beryl’s hooves. “You better go last. In case she slides.”

“Slides?” Skippy turned whiter.

Since I was the only one with experience, I led the rest. The trail snaked back and forth, cutting through ripples in the rock face. Wind and water had sculpted The Cliffs. Wings of rock jutted and caves pockmarked the wall. The path crossed natural bridges and skirted around columns.

When we reached the beach, Leif fell to his knees with a dramatic cry. “Solid ground! I’ll never take you for granted again.”

“Are you going to kiss the sand?” I asked.

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Now I’m the one being silly?”

“Yes.”

I led them to the beach stable. Made of bamboo and thatch, the stable could house five horses. Kade rubbed down Moonlight.

Skippy scanned the building. “You were serious about the horses swimming.”

Kade snorted. “If a storm approaches, we’ll take the horses up to the storm cave. For now, it’s more comfortable down here.”

When everyone had unsaddled their horses and settled them in stalls, I showed them the main cavern the Stormdancers used. Big and bright with lanterns, it was at beach level. Raiden stirred the contents of a large pot over a cook fire. Various people lounged about on cots or chairs, but a woman and man jerked to their feet when they saw us approach.

“Bout time,” Raiden said. He straightened and shook hands with Leif and Skippy. His skin had tanned to a rich brown and more gray flecked his short black hair. The wrinkles on his face were a lighter tan color as if he always squinted while in the sun.

“A wide-brimmed hat would help with that raccoon look,” I teased. Even though I knew his age to be around forty, he appeared a lot older than the last time I visited. Perhaps the stress of the glassmakers’ murders and having his strongest Stormdancer kidnapped had aged him.

“At least I don’t look like a ghost,” he said. He beckoned to the couple hovering nearby. “This is Ziven and Zetta, brother-and-sister glassmakers. And—come on, you lazy bums—our other Stormdancers, Prin, Wick and Tebbs.”

Another round of introductions was made. The Stormdancers didn’t bother to shake our hands. They waved hello from their seats. I knew Prin and Wick. Prin matched my size and age, though her silver-colored eyes gave her an exotic air. Bearded and burly, Wick grunted a greeting.

Tebbs had pulled her brown hair into an intricate knot on top of her head. Her gaze swept us with sharp interest, but she glanced away as if bored when I tried to make eye contact. She appeared to be near Heli’s age of sixteen, but she acted like an older woman, copying Prin’s mannerisms and gestures.

“Where’s Heli?” I asked Raiden. Heli’s youth and enthusiasm tended to energize those around her.

“Out searching the beach for treasure,” he said.

“Treasure?” Leif asked.

“What Heli considers treasure.” Raiden sighed. “Shells, odd driftwood shapes, stones and coral. Her cave is full of junk.”

“She has a few beautiful pieces,” I said in her defense.

Raiden snorted and returned to his stew. The smell of steamed clams wafted from the pot. Leif wrinkled his nose, but couldn’t resist following Raiden to peek under the lid.

The glassmakers talked to Kade. I joined them, much to Zetta’s dismay. She shot me an annoyed frown and a warning flared in her brown eyes. Kade, however, made room for me.

“…just need the sand recipe and we should have melt by tomorrow,” Ziven said. His black hair had been twisted into long ropes that hung over his shoulders and back.

“Then the kiln is hot?” I asked.

He glanced at Kade as if seeking approval.

“Opal is our glass-and-orb expert,” Kade said. “She knows the proper sand mixture and will instruct you on how to proceed.”

Zetta’s ill humor deepened into outrage. “She’s not a Stormdance Clan member. It violates all traditions that she knows the secret recipe.”

Zetta’s hair matched the length of her brother’s except she had small braids instead of ropes. Colorful beads decorated the ends of the braids. The beads clicked together when she jerked her head.

Kade stared at her until she calmed. “Opal figured out the sand recipe just by examining the mix. Can either of you do that?”

They hemmed and shuffled their feet.

“I didn’t think so. As I said before, she’s in charge. I won’t use any orbs unless she approves them first. Now, I believe Opal asked you a question.”

“Yes, the kiln is hot,” Zetta said. She kept her voice even, but she clutched her arms.

“Is the cart near the stockpiles?” I asked.

“No. We used it to bring coal up to the kiln,” Ziven said.

More tradition. To keep the kiln safe from the water and weather, it had been installed in a high cave with a natural chimney to vent the smoke. It was also far away from the stockpiles on the beach. Crafting the orbs off-site and sending them to the coast just wasn’t done, either.

“Get the cart. I’ll meet you at the piles.”

They left but not without Zetta treating me to another glare when she thought Kade wasn’t looking. How childish. I suppressed the urge to stick my tongue out in response.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I said to Kade.

“Do you need my help with the orbs?” Kade asked, but his gaze sought the sea.

“No. You go.”

“Go where?”

“Out onto the sea rocks.”

“How did—”

“You’re swaying with the surf. Go commune with the waves and air currents.” I shooed him toward the beach.

“I get a better sense of approaching storms when I’m near the water,” he said in defense.

“Isn’t that what I just said?”

“You made it sound…absurd.”

“I didn’t mean to. That’s important, unlike surfing the waves. That’s ridiculous.”

“Not once you try it.”

I shivered, thinking about the cold water. “No, thanks.”

“It’s going to be fun changing your mind.” Kade waved and ran down the beach with an unconscious grace and hopped onto the black rocks. He stepped from one to another, traveling farther out. As the waves crashed into them, spray and foam erupted around him, but didn’t slow him down.

My attempt to cross them had ended with a wipeout and a gash on the head. When Kade reached the final rock, I waited for the glassmakers near the stockpiles.

Four wagons covered with tarps rested along the back wall of the stables. I uncovered them, checking their contents. Glittering in the sunlight, the bright white sand from the Krystal lands filled the first wagon. Both the black lava flakes and the grains from Bloodgood’s red beach were in the second wagon. A wooden divider separated them. Lime packed the next wagon and the last contained soda ash. All the ingredients needed to make glass.

I found shovels and trowels, but couldn’t locate a few important items. Ziven joined me, pushing the wheelbarrow.

“Where’s Zetta?” I asked.

“She’s waiting back at the kiln.” He grabbed a shovel. “What’s the recipe?”

“I could tell you, but it won’t do you any good.”

“What?”

I gestured. “The scale isn’t here, or the drum mixer. How are you going to weigh out the ingredients and blend them together?”

He considered. “We brought them to the cave. It doesn’t matter. We can mix and weigh up there.”

“What if you don’t bring enough of one ingredient? You would need to make another trip. It’s better to have those down here.”

Ziven grumbled and complained about transferring the scale and mixer. When he returned, he and Zetta made a big production out of moving the heavy equipment. I ignored them by examining the glass ingredients for any foreign substances or contaminants. Dipping a trowel full of lime into the water, I checked for Brittle Talc. It would turned purple if tainted. No change.

When the glassmakers finished, I told them the sand recipe. “Forty percent Krystal’s white sand, forty percent local sand…” I scooped a handful of coarse yellow-and-brown grains from the beach. Compared to the tiny white granules, the beach sand appeared oversize. “Fifteen percent Bloodgood red sand and five percent lava flakes.”

Ziven and Zetta didn’t move. I handed a shovel to each.

“How do we measure out percentages?” Ziven asked.

I blinked at him. He asked about a fundamental skill. “By weight. The kiln can hold one hundred pounds of mix. After you put in the lime and soda ash, the sand ingredients will balance out the rest.”

Comprehension failed to light their faces.

“You’ll need eleven pounds of lime and fourteen pounds of ash, which is twenty-five pounds. So to figure out how much Krystal sand, you’ll need to take forty percent of seventy-five pounds, which is thirty pounds.”

“Why didn’t you just say thirty pounds of white in the first place?” Ziven asked.

“She’s showing off,” Zetta said.

As they shoveled and weighed the sand, I calculated the rest. “Eleven and a quarter pounds of Bloodgood red and three and three-quarters pounds of lava flakes.” I pressed my lips together before I could say more. My father taught me how to calculate percentages into weights before I could read. All his recipes used percentages, as did most glassmakers’, since kilns were built in different sizes, depending on the need. If the Stormdancers bought a kiln that could hold a hundred and fifty pounds, then the ingredient weights would all change.

I worried about their qualifications, remembering Helen’s comments about these two. At least they knew to mix the substances together. The drum mixer resembled a metal barrel laid on its side. Inside the container were fins to help stir. After securing the lid, a handle turned the drum to blend everything.

But when they began pulling the wheeled cart, I couldn’t conceal my amusement. By their fury, I knew any chance for a civil relationship was gone.

“You could help. Or are you too valuable?” Ziven asked.

“Experts don’t get their hands dirty,” Zetta said.

She’d pushed me too far. I’d had enough verbal abuse.

“Do you want to keep your jobs?” I asked them.

They shared a glance.

“It’s an easy question even for you. Either yes or no.”

“Yes,” Ziven said.

“Then shut your mouths and listen to me. Making the orbs is vital. Screwing up means killing Stormdancers. Right now, I’m the only person in the world who knows how they’re made.” I stepped closer and lowered my voice. “I don’t care if you like me or not. But if you utter one more snide comment, you’re both fired.”

“You can’t—” Zetta clamped her mouth shut when her brother slapped her arm.

I waited, but they remained silent. Good. “Now think. Wheeling a hundred pounds is doable on a flat surface, but what happens when you try to pull it up a slope?”

“It’s harder?” Ziven answered.

“Right. How did these wagons of supplies arrive?”

They both looked at the stable. Quartz’s and Moonlight’s heads poked out.

“They’re not our horses,” Ziven said. “Ours go home after we bring all the supplies in.”

“All you need to do is ask.”

“The owners?”

“The horses.” I found a harness hanging in an empty stall. “Quartz, will you help us?”

She nickered and I secured the leather straps and attached the cart. Within minutes, we arrived at the kiln’s cave. After we unloaded the sand mixture into the kiln’s cauldron, I suggested they blend another batch and store it up here. They had plenty of time as the melt wouldn’t be ready for another eight to twelve hours.

They agreed to my idea and I helped them prepare and deliver a second batch. Once we finished, I led Quartz back to the stables. I rubbed her down and fed her a few treats. My stomach rumbled. The sun hovered above the horizon, painting the sky with yellow, orange and red streaks.

I headed to the main cave. Kade wasn’t on the rocks. I found him talking with the other Stormdancers. They sat around the cook fire with Leif and Skippy. All held bowls of steaming white liquid. Even Leif.

“I thought you didn’t like seafood,” I said to him.

He slurped the juice straight from his bowl. “Fish. I said I didn’t like fish. This is soup.”

“There are clams in it,” Raiden said. He ladled a bowl for me.

“Clams aren’t fish.” Leif helped himself to another portion.

“I can cook fish so it tastes like steak,” Raiden said.

“Really?” An avid glow lit Leif’s eyes. He and Raiden launched into an intense discussion about cooking.

I found a seat next to Kade. He draped an arm around my shoulders but didn’t pause in his conversation. Prin looked at us in surprise. She continued to study us with a speculative frown. Wick leaned back in his chair with his eyes closed and an empty bowl in his lap. Tebbs perched on the edge of her seat, listening intently.

“…a few big storms are forming out at sea, but nothing will come close for a few days,” Kade said.

“Then why do we have to come here so early?” Tebbs asked. She had tried to catch Prin’s gaze, but gave up when Prin wouldn’t glance at her.

Tebbs’s rookie question confirmed my guess at her young age.

“There have been early season storms in the past, so it’s always prudent to be prepared and ready early,” Kade said. “Hopefully, the first storm will be mild and you can dance with Prin.” He smiled at Tebbs. She blushed and glanced down.

“Is this your first storm season?” I asked her.

“I was supposed to start my training last time, but with the orbs breaking and…” She played with the hem on her linen tunic. “Well. You know.” She cleared her throat. “Anyway, my powers came in much later than most of the others. Mother said I purposely ignored them before.” At this point Tebbs realized she babbled. “Yes. This will be my first time.” She settled her expression, trying to appear mature.

“Do the Stormdancer powers begin at puberty, too?” Usually, magical ability flared to life at the same time as a child’s body matured to an adult. For most, the transition complicated an already difficult time period, and a person’s power could be overlooked at first. It was one of the reasons for Irys Jewelrose’s annual trip to find and assess potential magicians. The threat of a young magician becoming uncontrolled and flaming out was another reason for her trip. Flameout would damage the power source, creating trouble for all the magicians.

“Yes, but there are exceptions,” Kade answered. “Heli could make a dust devil when she was ten and Tebbs, here, didn’t realize it was her mood affecting the weather instead of the other way around until she was eighteen.”

I thought of Master Jewelrose’s annual task again and groaned. Everyone looked at me. “Why didn’t I think of it before? Kade, you can use one of my glass messengers to find new Stormdancers.”

“That’s a great idea!” He beamed.

I suppressed the impulse to kiss him. “I’ll make you a bunch when we’re done with the orbs.”

“You don’t need a special glass mixture?” he asked.

“Nope. Any glass will do.”

“You can’t do that,” Skippy said.

I noticed he had been listening ever since Kade mentioned the storms out at sea.

“Why not?” I asked.

“The Council has set up protocols for obtaining a messenger. He’ll have to put in a request to the local station, who will pass it on to Councilor Stormdance, who will present all requests to the messenger committee, who then decides who to approve,” Skippy explained as if I should already be aware of this chain of command.

And he was right. I should be informed about what the Council did with my messengers. No wonder Vasko Cloud Mist was so happy to have his own; by giving him three I had bypassed a season’s worth of paperwork. It explained why Pazia had asked me if it was allowed.

The other Stormdancers peered at us in confusion, except Wick, who snored. Kade enlightened them about my messengers.

“…if you see the glow inside, then you have magical power.”

“But aren’t they the things that let you communicate from far away?” Prin asked.

“Yes. They have many uses.” Unmistakable pride filled Kade’s voice.

Prin blinked at me. “You make them? You’re the glass magician?”

“Why are you so surprised?” Kade asked.

“I…it’s just that…I never made the connection before. She was here only a few days.” Prin sounded aggrieved. “No one told me.”

“Not too many people know,” I said. “It’s safer that way.”

Everyone remained quiet for a moment.

“In any case,” I said, “they are my creations and I can give them to whomever I want.”

“The messenger committee isn’t going to like that,” Skippy said.

“I don’t care.”

“You should. I can prevent you from making them.” Skippy straightened.

“It’s not part of your assignment.”

“Doesn’t matter. It’s the right thing to do.”

“I don’t agree.”

“That doesn’t matter, either,” Skippy said.

“Yes, it does,” Kade said. “Opal’s opinion matters to me.”

“We’re away from the Keep, Stormdancer. I can erect a null shield at my discretion.”

“You’re outnumbered. There are five of us. Seven if you include Leif and Opal. And a null shield isn’t going to stop me from dumping you in the ocean.” Kade remained relaxed in his seat, but a dead-serious expression touched his face.

Skippy wisely kept quiet. Prin and Tebbs exchanged a look. Wick snorted and mumbled in his sleep.

The glassmakers arrived and hesitated by the cook fire as if scenting the tension in the air.

“How’s the melt?” I asked.

“Good, good,” Ziven said. He poured soup into two bowls, handing one to his sister. “We should be able to make orbs tomorrow morning.”

“Excellent,” Kade said.

The friction eased a bit. Conversation resumed. I wanted to ask Raiden about the glassmakers’ experience, but would wait until we could talk in private. A few of the Stormdancers had their own caves to sleep in; others collapsed on cots around the main cavern’s fire.

When I visited before, I slept with the others. I wondered if Kade’s cot was big enough for two. Despite being the leader of the Stormdancers, he had chosen a small cave with only enough room for a cot and a brazier. He claimed the room was a nice respite from the vastness of the sea.

The soft yellow firelight lit his profile. His straight nose widened just a bit at the end. Grains of sea salt clung to his long eyelashes. He had tucked his hair behind his ear. The sun-streaked strands resembled gold threads. Kade caught me staring and smiled.

Darkness pressed against the cave’s entrance, and I was going to suggest we retire for the evening, when I realized Heli hadn’t returned.

“Is Heli always gone so late?” I asked Kade.

He glanced around in dismay. “Ray, did Heli come back yet?”

Raiden jerked as if slapped. “Haven’t seen her all day. I’ll check her cave. Maybe she’s sorting her junk.” He lit a lantern and hurried out.

Kade lit a few more lanterns as we waited. Unable to sit still, I hovered near the base of the trail. By Raiden’s worried expression, I knew Heli’s room was empty.

“The sea’s calm today,” Kade said. “No rogue waves or riptides.”

“Maybe she fell and broke her leg or hit her head,” Prin said.

“Which way did she head out?” I asked Raiden.

He shrugged. “She’s always going out. This is the first time she’s been gone so long.”

“She’s alone. Maybe she was attacked,” Prin said.

No wonder Heli had called Prin Ms. Doom and Gloom.

We split into two groups. Raiden, Prin and Tebbs headed north, while Kade, Leif and I turned south. Skippy stayed behind with the still-sleeping Wick just in case Heli bypassed us.

“Signal if you find her,” Kade had ordered.

“How?” Prin asked.

“Send a blast of air and I’ll do the same.”

We marched down the beach. The sand crunched under our boots. Waves shushed in a steady rhythm. We checked caves, inspected shadows and called Heli’s name.

“I keep forgetting how young she is,” Kade said. “She’s been dancing for four years, but she’s only sixteen.”

Leif stopped. He closed his eyes and drew in deep breaths. “Is she…springy? Enthusiastic?”

“Yes,” I said.

“Then she came this way.” He paused. “It’s been a while. No bad scents.”

We continued. The moon crested The Cliffs, casting a pale light over us. Eventually our lantern sputtered and died.

“Now what?” Leif asked.

“We keep going,” Kade said. “Are you still…smelling her?”

“Yep.”

“Let me know if anything changes.”

“Will do.”

My eyes adjusted to the weak moonlight. As I searched for a sign of Heli, I worried she might have drowned. Would the sea deposit her body on the shore like one of her treasures? Did Kade know the currents well enough to trace her through the waves? Now who was being Ms. Doom and Gloom?

“Heli!” Kade cried with delight and ran to a figure up ahead.

By the time I reached them, he had picked her up and swung her around.

“Where have you been?” he demanded when he set her down. She looked like a little girl next to him.

“Out collecting,” she said. “I kept finding these wonderful bits of sea glass.” She held up a bulging mesh bag. “More and more of them all scattered along the beach and well…I guess I went too far. But I couldn’t stop picking them up! The time flew and the next thing I knew, it was too dark to see the glass.” She gave Kade a wry smile. “Just my luck you returned today.” Heli noticed me. “And you brought Opal.” She jumped with glee. “Opal, just wait until you see these pieces. You’re going to die!”

“I nailed it,” Leif said. “Springy.”

I introduced him to the young Stormdancer. Even though she had been busy all day, Heli still had energy to relate to us all her adventures. Before we headed back to the caverns, Kade signaled the others, sending a strong burst of wind up the coast.

Although they chastised her for being gone so long, the others were relieved Heli was safe. She pulled a small table next to the fire and dumped her treasure on it.

Sea glass of different shapes, sizes and colors glittered and winked. The pile beckoned. The desire to hold the pieces and claim them filled me. We were all drawn to the table. The sand and movement of the water had smoothed and polished the bits of broken glass. I picked up a blue piece.

Magic burned my fingers, jolting up my arm and shocking me. I dropped the piece with a cry, but the others grabbed at them, fighting over them. Raiden and even Wick—when did he wake?—clutched pieces as if they were children with candy. Heli scooped a bunch in her hands, yelling at everyone the sea glass was hers.

The arguments turned nasty. Voices grew louder. Soon fistfights would break out.

I pulled at Kade’s sleeve, and shouted for him to stop. But he shoved me away, protecting his hoard. I landed on the ground hard, staring at the horrible scene before me. The violence escalated and I guessed why.

The magic in the sea glass had enchanted them.