Sea Glass

18

BRAND NO LONGER HOVERED NEAR OUR COTTAGE, BUT TWO NEW guards circled the building. I crushed six glass spiders and sent them to distract our guards.

A yelp followed a cry. “…see the size of that—”

“Over there! Huge sand spiders! We’d better…” The ring of steel sounded, masking the guard’s words. “…poisonous bite. Get the one on the left, I’ll take right.”

As soon as the guards were lured away, we slipped out. Leif headed straight for the long building on the south coast—the one Walsh claimed mirrored the oyster operation on the north side.

We snuck around from the back. Leif held his machete and I clasped the orb Kade had given to me. Trepidation pulsed in my chest. The memories of how horrible Crafty had felt when I siphoned her magic replayed in my mind. Would I be able to inflict such pain again?

The building did indeed resemble the other, but instead of the oyster tables a long wooden chute occupied the work space. Scattered around the floor were boxes with wire-mesh bottoms. The structure was also thicker than the northern one, with an enclosed section running the entire length.

Leif bypassed all the equipment and aimed for a door near the southeast edge of the building. Lantern light shone from a row of small windows near the roof. We pressed against the wall. Loud voices arguing inside were punctuated with sounds of a scuffle.

The door burst open, spilling light and people. Two men dragged a struggling young man out. Walsh followed them. He spotted us and seemed more resigned than surprised.

“I found the magician you seek,” Walsh said. “He’s been hiding from me, and has, until tonight, flashed his wild power when I was away.”

“We need—”

Walsh interrupted Leif. “I know. You’ve come to terminate him. Let me talk with him first. See how bad it is.”

The young man stopped fighting his captors. He gaped at Leif in sudden fear.

“We don’t need to kill him,” Leif said. “We have…another way to neutralize his power.”

“Really? How?” Walsh asked eagerly.

“I need to assess the situation. Perhaps we can go somewhere private?”

He snapped back to business. “I’ll talk to him, then you can assess all you want.” Walsh turned to the guards. “Take him to my office.”

The men pulled the adolescent away. At least his terror had transformed into confusion.

“Join me after breakfast,” Walsh said to us.

“What if he escapes?” Skippy asked.

“He won’t.”

Walsh didn’t lie this time. The young man sat in a chair in front of his desk. He rested his head in his hands, but snapped it straight when we entered.

We arrived just after breakfast. The dining room had buzzed louder than at dinner. I had wondered if the change was due to Walsh’s absence or the news of last night’s excitement.

Walsh invited us to sit down as if we gathered to discuss the weather. I studied the wild magician. His shaggy black hair hung over his eyes and ears. He wore only a pair of gray short pants. No shoes. Tanned skin covered lean muscles. I guessed he was one of the swimmers and perhaps sixteen or seventeen years old. Wariness, fear and a bit of defeat emanated from him.

If Walsh was tired, he didn’t show it. “Quinn has been telling me quite the story. He made a big mistake not coming to me right away, but I think, with some hard work, he can control his magic.”

“Last night—” Leif tried.

“He pulled a lot of power, but no ripples. He released it back into the power source without using it,” Walsh said.

Leif considered.

“Look what I have already taught him. Quinn, show these magicians what you can do.”

Skippy braced. Leif signaled me to be ready. I removed the orb from my pack. Quinn drew in a breath as if he prepared for a deep dive. The teacup in front of Walsh rose into the air, hovered a moment and then returned to the table with a rattle.

“Not bad,” Leif said. “But when he flashed fourteen days ago, he was on the verge of flaming out.”

“He’s managed to gain control since then. And now that I’m aware of his powers, I can teach him.”

“I need to contact the Master Magicians.” Leif pulled out the sea-horse messenger.

“That will take weeks. As the Council’s representative, surely you can make a decision.”

Walsh didn’t know about the messengers. He watched in confusion as Leif peered into the glass.

“But, isn’t that—”

“The magician finder? Yes.” Skippy interrupted Walsh. “Opal’s glass has a dual purpose.” He explained it to the leader.

I squirmed. As more people knew about my powers, the more uncomfortable I grew.

“Amazing,” Walsh said. He studied me as if appraising the quality of a pearl.

Averting my gaze, I met Quinn’s. He too watched me. And a sense of familiarity flushed through me. Odd.

“What else can you do, Miss Opal?” Walsh asked.

The unpleasant feeling of being examined crawled along my skin. I lied. “Nothing else.”

“Really? Then why are you holding a Stormdancer’s orb?”

Caught, I cast about for an excuse.

“She was helping the Stormdancers’ glassmakers when we received the order to find Quinn,” Leif said. He’d just finished his mental communication with the Master Magicians in the Keep. “Master Bain is most impressed with Quinn’s display last night.” He changed the subject. “He would like Quinn to come with us to the Keep to learn more about his powers.”

A brief joyful expression lit the young man’s face before settling back into anxiety.

“Absolutely not,” Walsh said. “We are a close family.”

“It’s not your decision,” Leif said.

“Oh yes it is. Quinn isn’t eighteen yet.”

“Doesn’t matter. If the Council believes it’s in his best interest to train at the Keep, then it’s theirs.” Leif’s posture stiffened. “But, I’d rather ask Quinn first.”

Everyone turned to the young man.

His gaze darted to Walsh. “I—”

“Your sisters will miss you,” Walsh said. “And who will teach the children to swim? You know how strong the current is around the peninsula’s tip and you’re the best instructor.”

Quinn’s shoulders drooped in resignation. “I’m needed here, sir. I want to stay.”

“And he will have a personal tutor. Much better than being one of many at the Keep.” Walsh put a chummy arm around Quinn.

Leif didn’t appear happy. “I’d rather you train at the Keep, but I don’t want to upset your family. However—” an ominous tone deepened his voice “—if the Master Magicians feel another uncontrolled flash of magic, they will send me back to finish the job.”

“To neutralize him, but not kill him?” Walsh asked.

“Yes.”

“Exactly how? Because the last time I heard, the only way to defuse a wild power was to terminate the person.” Walsh’s gaze slid to the orb in my lap.

“We have discovered a new way, but the Master Magicians are keeping the specifics quiet for now,” Leif said.

“Interesting. Were you staying with the Stormdancers on the coast?” Walsh asked me.

“Yes.”

“Quinn’s confession last night included a variety of events he’s been keeping from me. Go on, Quinn, tell them about the sea glass in case they find it on their way back.” Walsh’s anger flashed at the young man before he smoothed his features.

Quinn kept his gaze on the floor. “I…collect sea glass.” He swallowed. “And I did something to my collection with my…uh…wild magic. When my…brothers began fighting over them, I tossed them into the sea.”

“Did something?” Leif asked.

He grimaced. “I think I made them more…desirable. My brothers used to make fun of me for collecting it, but they were…crazed by them.”

That’s why Quinn felt so familiar to me.

“The glass is dangerous,” Walsh said. He pressed his lips together, controlling his fury. “With the currents and tides, they may wash up onshore near The Cliffs. The Stormdancers should be warned.”

Leif glanced at me with a question in his eyes. I nodded.

“Thanks for the warning, but it’s a little late,” Leif said. “One of the Stormdancers found most of the pieces, and when she brought them back to the cave…well, crazed is a good descriptor.”

Quinn looked horrified.

Walsh asked if anyone was hurt.

“Minor bumps and bruises. But if Opal hadn’t broken the magic, people would have died.” Leif swept his hands out to emphasize his point.

“I didn’t mean…” The poor boy put his head in his hands. “I’m so sorry.”

Walsh, however, focused on me. “You seem to have an affinity for glass. How did you manage to break the spell?”

Leif saved me from answering. “It’s complicated,” he said. “Hopefully, Quinn won’t do it again.”

“Of course not,” Walsh said. “I guarantee it.”

Quinn shuddered.

I wanted to ask Quinn about the markings, but held my tongue. It was probably a way for him to keep track of his collection, and I had an odd feeling it might get Quinn into more trouble.

With nothing left to discuss, we returned to our cottage to pack. As soon as we were alone, Leif said, “That manipulating sack of seagull droppings!”

“I assume you’re referring to Walsh,” I said.

“Yes. I feel sorry for that boy. He should come with us.”

“Why didn’t you force him to?” Skippy asked. “It’s within your power.”

“There wasn’t a good enough reason. Quinn’s control with the teacup was impressive. Master Bain wanted him to come to the Keep, but he respects people’s right to choose how they live as long as they’re not a danger to themselves or others. The whole incident with the sea glass was an honest mistake. Since Quinn said he’d rather stay, I couldn’t force him. But I can rescue him.”

“What do you mean by rescue?” I asked.

“I gave him an out. He can pull a big hunk of power and alert the Masters.”

I had trouble following Leif’s logic. “But then we siphon his powers. How’s that an out?”

“The danger of flameout is gone. If he yanks on the power blanket, it’s because he needs our attention.”

“And you think this boy is smart enough to pick up on your offer?” Skippy asked.

“Time will tell.”

After we left Walsh’s compound, my mind kept returning to the Bloodrose family. The family’s bland faces haunted my sleep. Nothing they did or said raised a red flag of warning, but their resignation and apathy still left a rancid taste in my mouth. It felt as if they’d given in, letting Walsh decide their lives for them.

Perhaps the bad flavor resulted not from the Bloodrose family, but from my own worries. I had given in to the Council’s wishes, allowing Skippy to guard me and producing enough messengers to earn permission to leave the Keep.

Quinn stayed because of his sense of obligation and guilt from Walsh. Was I doing the same thing?

At least Quinn had control of his magic. I clung to the one positive result of the whole trip, hoping it would drive out the unsettled feeling.

We headed north toward Stormdance land. Skippy protested that there was no need to return to The Cliffs, but I wanted to ensure the orbs would hold a storm’s energy before I left the Stormdancers.

The trip south had been seven days of almost nonstop riding and six days searching the small costal towns for Quinn. Even though we pushed the pace, it took us eight days to reach The Cliffs.

Along the way, I found a few pieces of sea glass. They were scattered over a wide swath of beach. I managed to spark them before Leif or Skippy could fall under their spell. My hands throbbed for a while afterward.

We arrived two days into the heating season. The bright sun warmed the air during the day, making us sweat. But I still used my cloak to keep the chill off at night.

Kade and Heli greeted us first. They had been hiking on the beach seeking treasures. I dismounted with the utmost speed and crushed Kade in my arms.

“I’m glad to see you, too, but I need to breathe,” he said.

I relaxed, although I didn’t let him go.

“What happened? Did you…?”

“No. It’s just the family…” I shuddered when I thought of the Bloodroses. “I’ll tell you about it later. Will you promise me something?”

“Anything.”

I smiled. “You should ask what it is first.”

He shrugged. “The last one netted me a day on the beach with a beautiful woman. How bad could it be?”

“Not bad at all. Just promise me the next time I’m complaining about my family and their embarrassing stories, you’ll remind me of the Bloodrose family.”

“Bloodrose. Got it.”

I pulled away to give Heli the sea glass I’d found. I explained about Quinn. She deflated, but agreed about my guess to the purpose of the markings.

“It was fun. I love puzzles. They’re pretty,” she said. “Do you think Quinn wants them back?”

Remembering the strange tension about the sea glass, I said, “No.”

“Then I’ll add them to my collection.”

“Can we go now? I don’t want to miss dinner,” Leif said.

We walked the rest of the way to the stables. I rubbed Quartz down and groomed her. Moonlight banged his stall door. “As soon as Kade opened it, the horse circled us, then leaned against Quartz.

Skippy worked on Beryl, but he seemed distracted. His attention focused on the sky instead of his horse.

Kade also contemplated the gray clouds over the sea. “I believe our first heating-season storm is headed this way.”

“How bad?” Skippy asked.

“It’s sullen and annoyed. It could blow for a while,” Kade said.

“What do you mean?”

“This time of year, it’s mostly thunderstorms. A few will pop up and sweep over us with nary a rumble, others grow into large chains with pouring rain, wind and lots of noise, and a couple will build into huge systems, sucking in moisture. Those monsters produce hail and tornadoes.” Kade’s eyes lit up at the prospect of monster storms.

Skippy swallowed. “Where is this one on your scale? A popper or a monster?”

“A popper or a monster?” Kade repeated. “I like that!”

“Thanks, I guess. But you didn’t answer the question.”

“This one is in between the two. Large, but not huge, with wind gusts and plenty of lightning.”

“When?” Skippy combed the same spot on Beryl. She flicked her tail at him.

Kade studied the sky. The sun dipped behind the distant cloud bank. “Tomorrow afternoon. Maybe early evening.”

“Do we need to bring the horses up to the storm cave?” I asked.

“No. It doesn’t have enough force to push the water that far onto the beach.” Kade smiled. “Besides, I’ll be out there, taming that sullen storm into a nice shower.”

Raiden and the others seemed glad to see us. Dinner bubbled on the fire and chairs ringed the flickering flames. The glassmakers asked if they could make the rest of the orbs for the season.

“Wait until after this storm. We need to make sure the orbs will hold the storm’s energy,” I said. Anxiety swirled. Kade insisted he dance the storm alone tomorrow just in case the orbs shattered. If that happened, the force of the flying glass would kill him.

Skippy claimed he had no appetite and went to bed early. Leif, Kade and I joined the group around the fire. We took turns filling them in about the hunt for the wild magician.

“I like it when a story ends well,” Raiden said.

“How can you call that a happy ending?” Prin demanded. “The boy is being forced to stay.”

“No one died and no one got hurt,” Raiden said. “Besides, I said it ended well. Not happy.”

Conversation drifted to the approaching storm. The Stormdancers analyzed and compared their thoughts and theories. With small frowns and little pouty huffs, Tebbs showed her disappointment about not dancing. Wick conserved his strength by falling asleep in his chair.

When my eyelids wouldn’t stay open, I said good-night and dragged my tired body up to Kade’s cave. He followed soon after, joining me on the narrow cot.

I melted against him.

He wrapped his arms around me. “You’re worried about tomorrow.” It wasn’t a question.

“A little. I wish I could be out there with you.”

“Too dangerous.”

“I know.” Memories of the last storm season played in my mind, when Kade was faced with a similar situation to test new orbs. His strength had failed before he could harvest enough energy to calm the killer storm. “I helped you before.”

“And I’ll never forget it. You saved my life.”

We had connected through Kaya’s orb. “I would love to do it again.”

“What? Save my life? You’re up to two times now to my one.”

“No. You’ve saved me twice. You forgot about blowing Devlen away.”

“He didn’t want to kill you.”

“It still counts.” Besides, if he had taken me, it would have been worse than dying. “What I want is to link with you again. I felt so powerful and in control.” Two things I lacked. The Council told me how many messengers to make and when. I could use my powers, but only if the Council approved or assigned me the task.

“We could try linking through an empty orb,” Kade said.

“I guess we could, but I think it was Kaya’s power that connected us. If it doesn’t work, I’ll come out with you for the next storm.”

“Why?”

“To see if I can channel the storm’s energy like I siphon magic.” A sudden realization jolted me.

“What’s wrong? Your ribs?” Kade relaxed his arms.

“No, Crafty! I forgot all about her.” She had been a member of Sir’s group. A magician who could weave a null shield into a net. She should be locked in an Ixian dungeon, but could have escaped with Tricky. I made a mental note to ask Leif to message Yelena and find out what happened in Ixia.

“What about Crafty?”

“You taught her how to dance. Why can’t you teach other magicians like Leif or Skippy?”

His muscles tensed. “Oh. Well.” Reluctance clung to each word.

I pulled back. “What are you keeping from me?”

A slight cringe. “Crafty—I wish we knew her real name and Tricky’s, as well. I’m sure the Ixian authorities—”

“Kade, tell me.” Unease rolled at the back of my throat.

“I didn’t want to upset you, but Crafty’s magic was…unique.”

“Why would that upset me?”

“Unique as in probably one-of-a-kind. I learned from Sir that her father was a Stormdancer and her mother was a magician from the Krystal Clan. They had a brief liaison before she returned to her people. Crafty was the result of that encounter. She had both magical power and Stormdancer power, although she didn’t know how to dance.”

“And I stole her one-of-a-kind abilities, robbing Sitia of another Stormdancer.”

“I knew you’d be upset. She never would have danced for us. Her mother’s opinion of us wasn’t…complimentary. Besides, she joined Sir and didn’t have any problems with sabotage, kidnapping, torture and murder. You saved Sitia from a criminal.”

He had a point. I relaxed against him, letting his warmth and the beat of his heart lull me to sleep.

The storm arrived right before dinner as predicted. Lightning sizzled across the dark gray sky. The sea churned, turning the water’s color to an old bruise. Thunder vibrated and echoed off the walls of the main cavern. Gusts of wind fanned the fire, and small sand devils swirled in the corners.

Skippy flinched with every boom. He held his body so taut, I thought we would have to pry his hands from the chair’s arms so he could eat. Leif chopped a pink fleshy sea creature, helping Raiden cook. I averted my gaze when I spotted tentacles. A certain amount of ignorance was required for various…meals.

Kade carried a mesh bag filled with four orbs. He kissed me, then dashed off to his favorite rocky post before the rain. Prin and Tebbs tried to play cards. They spent more time focused on the storm than their hands. Between deals, they both stood and paced to the entrance to peer outside.

Ziven and Zetta stacked tiles and threw dice for an unfamiliar game. Their tosses seemed listless, as if they were bored. How could they be so indifferent while Kade tested their orbs? I was pretty sure the glass would hold, but tweaks of nervousness still pinched my stomach.

Wick carved small holes into Heli’s seashells with a knife so she could string them together to make jewelry. She worked on making a bracelet. At one point Heli paused and cocked her head. “Kade’s harvesting the storm’s energy.”

I checked on dinner’s progress. Leif stirred the contents of the pot with loving strokes while Raiden grilled fish over the fire.

No one paid any attention to me. Skippy kept his death grip on the chair and his gaze trained on the entrance. I guessed if water washed into the cave, he would be out of his seat and up the path in the blink of an eye.

I pulled my orb from my saddlebags. Carrying it over to a quiet corner, I sat down and concentrated on the glass under my fingertips. Vibrations traveled through the bones in my hands. Potential quivered. I sensed the magic beating inside the Stormdancers, Skippy’s icy pulse and Leif’s green aura. If I desired, I could draw it to me and trap it inside the orb.

So why didn’t I feel all-powerful? Feel in control? I had dreamed of wielding more power and not being a One-Trick Wonder. So why wasn’t I thrilled?

Because this ability was useless. I’d rather be able to light a fire or heal someone, not rob them of their magic. Would Quinn have been grateful to me for saving his life? Doubtful. Once a person tastes magic, he desires more. I was the perfect example. I trapped magic in glass. My messengers helped Sitia. I should have been content with that one skill. And I wasn’t.

On the other hand, Pazia seemed to be dealing with the loss of her magic, moving on with her life, and Devlen acted happier without the addiction. Acted being the key word. His reformed-man performance had to be part of a grander scheme.

Now, the Council feared me and, in order not to be thrown in jail, I’d bent to their wishes, striving to gain their trust. Pathetic.

Forcing my dour thoughts away from the Council, I reached toward Kade. His magic flashed with red energy. I quashed the desire to draw it to me. Instead, I tried to link my essence with his.

Nothing happened. No connection. No sharing of strength. I returned the orb to my bags and sat near the fire, waiting for the storm to end.

Kade brought back four filled orbs. The storm’s energy swirled inside with an iridescent glitter of light. Their morose song thumped in my chest and scratched at my skin. Not at all like Kaya’s orb. Even though she longed to be free, hers had sung with a positive energy.

Raiden placed the full orbs on a special shelf in the supply cave. “If they hold until tomorrow, they’re good to go.”

As predicted, Leif and Skippy made plans to leave after breakfast. Exhaustion clung to Kade and he headed to bed. Later, when I crawled under the blankets with him, he didn’t move.

Sleep came in snatches. Sad dreams of death and separation plagued my mind. I tossed and turned. Eventually, I abandoned the effort and slipped from the bed. I dressed and lit a lantern. Kade remained in the same position, still sound asleep.

“Opal?”

I jumped.

“Are you awake?” Ziven asked through the screen.

I peeked around the curtain. “What’s the matter?”

Ziven stood outside, holding a lantern. Concern creased his forehead. “I hate to bother you, but we’re making more orbs and need some guidance.”

“No problem, just let me leave Kade a note.” I searched for paper and jotted a quick message before joining Ziven.

He quirked a smile. “What did you write?”

“Just that I’m at the kiln. He worries too much.”

He led the way. Water coated the narrow path. I followed him with care, keeping my right hand on the rock face to steady me. Below, the storm-tossed waves crashed to the shore with angry whacks. Lingering clouds streamed past the moon.

Light spilled from the kiln’s cave. Before we reached the entrance, Ziven stopped and turned around. “I understand why Kade worries,” he said. “Even though you have powerful glass magic, you need glass in your hands for it to work. And you can’t live your life holding glass all the time. Right?”

I agreed, but slowed as uneasiness brushed my skin. Ziven was never this chatty.

“I’m surprised the Council even allows you to leave the Citadel.”

Alarmed, I stepped back. “Why?”

“They think your messengers are indispensable.”

“And you don’t?”

He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter what I think.” He continued up the path.

I relaxed, but kept my distance from him. Paranoid? Who, me?

“You mentioned needing guidance. What’s the trouble?” I asked.

He paused and half turned. “The trouble is you’re dangerous, and you cause problems. The Council refuses to do anything because of your messengers, but there are others who aren’t so inclined.”

Anger flared. “I meant with the orbs.”

“The orbs are fine.”

“Then what—”

Hands connected with my back, shoving me over the path’s edge and out into midair.