Storm Glass

14

THE END OF the blowpipe connected with Tricky’s temple. It wasn’t a hard blow, but getting molten glass on his head was worse than being knocked unconscious. Along with Tricky’s shrieks, an acrid smell of burning hair and flesh filled the room.

I moved fast. The commotion would alert the others. Sir grasped the hilt of his sword. I rammed him in the stomach with the hot end of the pipe. His shirt caught on fire. Flesh sizzled. He yelped and hopped back.

Ash was on his feet, reaching for me. I brandished the pipe and he backed away. A woman’s voice hollered. No time left. Wiping the rest of the slug onto the floorboards, I sprinted for a window. An odd instinct pulled at me and I grabbed one of the glass balls from the table.

Cries and shouts followed me as I ran. Smoke fogged the room. I broke the windowpane with the blowpipe and cleared the jagged edges before diving through.

Hitting the ground with an audible thud, I gasped for breath. At least the sandy soil softened the impact. But I wasn’t free yet. I staggered to my feet and raced to a nearby copse of pine trees. Once there, I paused in amazement, I still held the glass ball and blowpipe.

Logic insisted I leave the ball there—I would need two hands to defend myself. But the little orb wanted to come, so I cradled it in the crook of my arm.

Bushy green branches thwacked me as I maneuvered through the forest. I increased my speed when the trees thinned. A rustling noise sounded behind me. I glanced back. Nothing. The sound increased.

I stopped, listening. Surrounded by the pitter-patter of movement, I scanned the forest. A brown melon-sized shape dropped from a tree branch. Suddenly the trees around me were filled with these shapes. They rained down to the ground and advanced toward me. Spiders.

Panicked, I searched for a clear path. None.

Magic, my logical mind told me. Illusions. Keep moving. Get out of the magician’s range.

My body refused to heed the advice. The glass orb in my hand began to vibrate. Momentarily distracted from the encroaching spiders, I peered at the ball. Ordinary. No flaws or bubbles. No humming of power, yet I sensed potential. As if it waited for me.

I closed my eyes, blocking the vision of a mass of spiders mere feet away. Having nothing to lose, I concentrated on the glass in my hands. I imagined myself working with this piece and reaching a critical point in the process.

Summoning my energy, I channeled magic into the glass ball. A clink sounded. I peeked at the orb in my hands; a tiny brown glass spider was inside. Without thought, I continued. The clatter of the orb filling with spiders rang in my ears. The creatures on the ground disappeared one by one. When the clearing emptied, I held the orb up to the sunlight.

It was full.

The rest of the day passed by in a blur. I kept moving, and alternated running with walking. With no idea where I was or where I was going. I just went, hoping I would find something—a house, a business, people—anything that could help me.

I may have escaped Sir, but with no food, water, money or warm cloak, my troubles were far from over. All I had was a blowpipe and a heavy glass orb loaded with spiders. Spurring me on was my fear of being recaptured, which switched at times to the paranoid belief that one of Sir’s group tracked me.

When the sun set, the air cooled fast. The prospect of spending the night outdoors seemed certain. I debated the merits of continuing my journey or finding a place to sleep. My body decided when I tripped over an exposed root and used my remaining energy to stand.

I found a group of pine trees and broke off a handful of branches with my pipe. Not easy considering the lack of a sharp edge. Under one of the bigger trees, I scooped out the sandy soil, making a shallow depression. Wedged below the tree, I used the branches as a blanket.

The thought of predators kept me awake for a while. Before falling asleep, I allowed myself one satisfied smile. I was free.

A cold wetness pressed against my temple. Snuffing sounds tickled my ear. Groggy, I swiped at the annoyance and tried to turn over. But the annoyer persisted and whined.

“Go away,” Is aid to the dog before I realized the implication.

Scrambling from under the tree, I studied the yellow canine. She ran circles around me, wanting to play. Her short coat gleamed in the morning sunlight and her clear brown eyes were alight. Happy. Healthy. Well cared for. Not a stray. Or at least not a recent stray.

I searched for the dog’s owner. The dog followed me, but tended to get distracted by various smells and objects.

“Home?” I asked the young dog, hoping she would lead me there.

No luck. She spotted a rabbit and dashed off. Her stocky body wasn’t built for speed, though, and she soon loped back.

My stomach grumbled and I wished the dog had caught the rabbit. I mused over the possibility of making an animal trap, but decided to keep walking. The dog stayed with me.

After a couple of minutes, she paused and cocked her head to the side. She spun around and darted through the trees. I followed as fast as I could. Hearing a voice call out, I aimed for the source.

“There you are!”

I froze. Sir had found me. I waited for the inevitable rush, but none came.

“Where have you been?” the same voice asked, but with a playful tone.

Relaxing with relief, I realized the man was the dog’s owner. Just past the next tree, an older man petted the yellow dog. She rushed to me with her tail wagging. Excited to see me, she danced around as if I’d been gone for years instead of minutes.

“I see you found a friend,” the man said. He scanned my bedraggled clothes covered with pine needles. “Child, you’re a long way from anywhere. Do you need help?”

“Yes, sir.”

He led me to his farm, and introduced me to his wife, Judi. She immediately brought me inside. Only when I was fed and settled with a mug of hot tea in my hands did the couple ask questions. I hesitated. They lived close to Sir’s workshop. What if they knew about him and were helping him?

The kindness and concern on both their faces didn’t appear to be faked. I could invent a story of getting lost just in case. But what if Sir and Tricky tracked me here after I left? These people should know about the potential danger. I sighed. Being mistrustful and suspicious was hard work, and opposite of my nature. In the end, I told them a brief version of what had happened.

Horrified gasps followed my story. Judi bustled about the kitchen as if needing action.

The man named Riks reclined in his chair with his dog sleeping at his feet. A thoughtful frown pressed his lips together. “Thought I saw smoke. I’d better take you into Mica to talk to the guards.”

The half-day trip to Mica, the long process of explaining about my kidnapping to the Mican authorities and the wait for the town’s magician to arrive mixed together into one exhausting day. Riks offered to lead a few soldiers back to his farm and point them in the direction of Sir’s glass shop, since I had no idea where I had escaped from.

Finally the town’s Captain led me to a small guest room and I collapsed on the bed.

After all was said and done, Zitora confirmed my story through the town’s magician, who used one of my glass messengers to speak with the Master. I felt a brief welling of pride to be responsible for increasing the speed of messages, which caused me to smile, thinking about Kade’s pep talk on confidence.

Although a wonderful invention, there were difficulties involved with my animals. Setting up a Sitia-wide network and choosing who should be allowed to communicate what type of information had become a problem. The Sitian Council still debated the issue. Currently, I made them for the Keep’s magicians stationed throughout Sitia.

Through the magician, Zitora instructed me to return to Thunder Valley. My arrest warrant had been voided—the two witnesses and the stand owner had been paid by Sir to lie, and the stolen vase had been planted in my saddlebags—yet the authorities still needed to complete the proper protocols for my official release.

Zitora requested an armed escort for me, so I had to wait until the soldiers returned from their mission with Riks.

They arrived the next day, reporting the discovery of the charred remains of Sir’s building. The kiln survived the fire, but little else. There was no sign of Sir or his gang.

No other problems occurred during the two-day trip south. I arrived at the administration building and waded through what seemed like a mountain of paperwork. By the time I finished, the sun had set and Zitora wanted to wait until morning to leave for the Keep.

I followed Zitora to the inn where she’d been staying since my disappearance.

“My room has two beds, you can share with me,” she said.

We sat at an empty table in the busy common room and ordered dinner. My stomach growled. I hadn’t eaten since breakfast.

Questions filled Zitora’s eyes. We hadn’t had time to discuss the details of my kidnapping. But before she could voice any, Kade arrived.

Strands of his golden-brown hair had sprung from a leather tie, and his clothes were torn and wrinkled. His frown deepened when he spotted us. Zitora and I exchanged surprised glances as he strode toward us. This time of the year was the height of the storm season.

“Kade, what—” Zitora started.

“Are you all right? What’s going on?” he demanded, staring at me.

I stuttered, appealing to Zitora.

“I told you she was fine,” she said.

“But little else.” He rolled my small orb onto the table. “I can’t use this to contact you. It only works when you’re sending to me.” Yanking a chair out, he dropped down, crossing his arms. “I want more details. Now.”

I waited for her to bristle, to give him the cold Master Magician stare of affront.

Although she stiffened with displeasure, she kept her comments about his behavior to herself. “I told you to wait. I haven’t discussed all the details with Opal yet.”

“You haven’t?” Outrage filled his voice. “Why not? My dancers could be in danger. I can’t just wait for your information.”

Ice crystals could have formed in the air around Zitora. “Opal’s been through a difficult time.” Her voice sliced with the sharpness of a sword’s blade. “Since she kept the Stormdancer’s orb recipe a secret despite being physically harmed, I would think you’d be a little more patient regarding this matter.”

If I were to describe his reaction in storm terms, I’d say the hurricane just fizzled into a light mist. I tried to suppress my smile when he sought my forgiveness.

“Now that you’re here, you might as well stay and hear the information firsthand. Opal?”

Reluctance knotted around my throat. “What do you want to know?”

“Everything from the beginning.”

“But you already know—”

She held up a hand. “Doesn’t matter. Go on.”

Despite her orders, I didn’t tell them everything. The incident with the spiders and the fact I had followed Tricky while well aware of his illusion, I planned to tell Zitora in private. The story sounded more heroic without those details. Was I trying to impress Kade?

“Odd,” Zitora said after I finished. “This group of rogues wants to make orbs, but they don’t have the power to harvest energy from a storm. I wonder what they’re planning to do with them.”

“Tal was with them. Maybe he told them he can fill the orbs,” I guessed.

Kade had listened to my tale in stony silence. “I hope Sir doesn’t kill Tal when he discovers the boy has no powers. I’d like to do the honors.”

By his intent demeanor, I had no doubt he meant it.

“Justice will be served, not revenge.” Zitora frowned as she contemplated. “What would Sir do once he finds out Tal has no power?”

I mulled over her question. The memory of being eaten alive by beetles came to mind. Tal would suffer, and I couldn’t produce any sympathy for him. “If they’re planning to harvest storms, then they would have to find another Stormdancer.”

“Impossible,” Kade said.

Zitora and I shared a smile.

“Nothing’s impossible,” I said, repeating Zitora’s advice to me at the start of this whole mess.

“My Stormdancers wouldn’t work for Sir.”

“Are you sure?” Zitora asked.

Kade refused to back down.

“Sir could coerce or bribe a Stormdancer to work for him.” I squirmed in my chair, thinking how easy it had been for Sir to force me to help him. If he had discovered my deception with the sand recipe and punished me again, I knew I would have given him the right numbers.

“A valid point,” she agreed.

My thoughts turned to Tricky. Sir had two magicians working for him, could there be others?

“Could they have their own Stormdancers?” I asked.

“No,” Kade said.

Zitora shot him an annoyed frown. “If a Master Magician can be corrupted, I’ve no doubt a Stormdancer can be, too. If you have nothing helpful to add, then be quiet.” When she seemed satisfied, she asked me, “What did you mean about the Stormdancers?”

“You said before that not all magicians are Keep trained. Does the Stormdancer power only manifest in the Stormdance Clan members?” I paused, glancing at Kade.

“As far as we know,” he said with a stiff tone.

“Then what if one of the clan married a Krystal Clan member? Say they live in Mica and raised a family. Could one of their offspring have the ability to capture a storm’s energy?”

“Possible. But who would teach the child?” Kade leaned forward, finally getting into the spirit of the discussion.

I turned my thoughts back to the problem. “There could be a Stormdancer with a grudge.”

Kade made a sound, but kept silent.

“Go on,” Zitora urged.

“A rogue who decided to leave and start his own group of dancers. But he can’t make the orbs so he hires Sir to help him get the recipe. No.” I shook my head. “Sir wanted to stop us from helping the Stormdancers with their orbs. Why would the rogue sabotage their orbs?” Wheels turned in my head as I followed the logic. “To make them give up the recipe!”

“Why would the Stormdancers tell the rogue the recipe?” Kade asked.

“They wouldn’t, but the glassmakers would. Their orbs are shattering and killing people. They’re desperate to make them right. Sir shows up with an offer they can’t refuse. Tell him the recipe in exchange for the reason their orbs are so brittle. Except we’re called to help and ruin the rogue’s plans. He sets Sir on us and when that doesn’t work, he captures me.”

“A possible scenario,” Zitora said.

“It’s pure conjecture,” Kade said.

“It’s an exercise in logic, thinking past the facts. The Masters and I do it all the time. Opal speculated a possible reason for Sir’s actions by making an assumption. The rogue. Now, let’s assume it’s not a rogue dancer but an owner of a factory who wants the orb’s energy to power his equipment. There is a lot of jealousy over the orbs. The other clans believe the Stormdance Clan should share.”

Before Kade could defend his clan’s actions, Zitora launched into another round of questions. I struggled to produce possible answers to how and why a factory owner would try to procure Stormdance orbs.

When fatigue slowed my responses, we stopped for the night. Zitora headed to our room, but I needed to retrieve a few things from my saddlebags.

Kade followed me to the stables outside. “You should never be alone. Sir and his gang are still at large. And don’t forget about Blue Eyes.”

“I found out his name is Devlen, and I won’t forget about him.” I shuddered, remembering his possessive hunger. “At least your Stormdancers are safe.”

I found Quartz’s stall and hunted through my bags, turning my back on Kade to hide my spider-filled orb. I was so engrossed in my task, Kade’s quiet voice surprised me.

“I didn’t travel all this way just because I was concerned for my Stormdancers,” he said.

Afraid to meet his gaze, I kept sorting through my bag even though I no longer remembered what I had been searching for. “You didn’t?”

“No. I…”

I waited.

“I…wanted to ask you about your sister Tula.” His voice changed back into his normal tone.

Closing my bags, I wondered what he had really wanted to say. I stood and faced him. “What about her?”

“How long did it take before you could think of her without…” He tapped his chest.

“The burning pain?”

“Yes.”

“Two to three years. But don’t go by me. Everyone grieves in different ways. For some, it could take longer or shorter. I do know it never disappears. An ember still smolders inside me. Most days, I don’t notice it, but, out of the blue, it’ll flare to life.”

The air around me pressed against my skin as if charged with magic. I stepped closer to Kade, seeking to connect with him, ease his pain.

He jerked back, and the energy dissipated. “Then I should avoid getting burned again.”

I masked my disappointment as he escorted me to my room. His distant demeanor returned and he remained business-like and brisk.

“Please inform me if there’re any new developments with Sir and Blue…Devlen. Have a safe journey home.”

“You, too.”

He nodded and left before Zitora opened the door.

Since there was nothing more to do in Thunder Valley, Zitora and I set out for the Citadel the next morning. Even though she acted normal and knew information only Zitora knew, I still checked her shadow on occasion. Each time the black shape matched her figure, I released a breath I hadn’t known I held.

Helping the Stormdancers had gotten me into more trouble than I cared for. I convinced myself that staying far away would be for the best. I stroked Quartz’s neck, content to leave Thunder Valley behind. The sunshine warmed my new cloak and the cool air held a crisp scent of earthy pine. For once, I looked forward to returning to the Magician’s Keep.

The day passed without incident. When the light faded to gray, Zitora scanned the surrounding area, and decided to make camp off the main east-west road, which led straight to the Citadel. An abandoned quarry was on the other side, and a thin wood occupied our side.

“Gather wood for a fire, and I’ll take care of the horses,” she said.

I picked up enough dead branches from the edge of the wood to get a fire started, but would need more for the rest of the night. Before searching deeper into the forest, I hesitated. Reluctance pulled. Every time I had been alone, something bad happened.

Determined not to let my fears rule me, I pushed through the underbrush and collected a few bigger logs. Every sound caused my heart to jump and sweat dampened my shirt, but I persisted until my arms were full.

Zitora lit the fire and cooked us a pot of beef stew. The yellow glow from the flames cast shadows along the ground and in the woods. Multiple times I sought the familiar black shape behind Zitora as if I was a child checking the presence of my mother.

I wondered if Yelena’s time as the Commander’s food taster made her instinctively test each meal for poisons before she ate or if she avoided hugging people because they might prick her with Curare. Thinking back to the first time I had seen Yelena after I had tricked her, I remembered being so happy to see her I hugged her without thought. She hadn’t recoiled. In fact, she hugged me back.

Her advice about not letting the past ruin the future proved impossible to follow. How could I stop checking Zitora’s shadow? Wasn’t I supposed to learn from my past mistakes? How did Yelena do it? How could she relax by a fire without worrying about a Fire Warper jumping from the flames and burning her?

Magic, of course. She was a powerful Soulfinder. If a person approached her with Curare, she would sense the intention and counter with ease. In my case, I don’t think an attacker would wait while I fired up the kiln and gathered a ball of hot glass.

Zitora retrieved our bedrolls from the saddles. I stared at the flickering flames, wishing I could do more with my magic.

“What’s this?” Zitora asked. Instead of our rolls, she held the spider-filled glass orb.

“One of the orbs Ash made. I grabbed it when I escaped.”

She arched an eyebrow, but remained quiet.

The silence drove the story from me. I told her about Tricky’s magical attacks, and how I countered the second one. “I really haven’t had the time to wonder where the glass spiders came from. Filling the orb with magic, I can understand. But for the magic to convert into actual glass is beyond my ability to explain.”

“Or mine,” Zitora said. “Magical illusions are really just visions in your mind. A magician will send you images that cause your body to have a physical reaction, like feeling the beetles’ bite and eat your flesh. Once the magician stops, the vision disappears and so does the magic. I’ve never heard of a magician able to turn magic into an object. Perhaps Bain would know more.”

She tipped the ball and shook one of the spiders into her palm. “Are these the creatures that attacked you?” She handed me the piece.

Spider-shaped and fingernail-sized, the clear glass encased a single brown spider. The glass felt thin and brittle as if I could crush it between my fingers. “Yes, but they were bigger.” My skin crawled with imaginary legs. I resisted the urge to swipe my arms.

“Why didn’t you tell me about this sooner?”

I searched for the right words, but no matter how I phrased it, it would sound strange. “The spiders want to stay with me.”

“They do?”

“Yes, and I was afraid the authorities would confiscate them. And we really haven’t had time to discuss it yet.”

“So you planned to tell me?”

“Of course.”

Her dubious expression turned into a smile. She shook a handful of spiders from the orb. “There must be hundreds of them.” Concentrating on the ones in her palm, Zitora hunched over them. “There’s magic inside, but I can’t use it to communicate or to do anything else. Perhaps you funneled Tricky’s magic into the orb and trapped it.”

I considered. If I could do it again, I would have a potential defense against a magical attack. Many questions circled my mind. Would I need to use the exact same type of orb? Or could I use any glass container?

“Very interesting.” She poured them back into the ball. “I can’t wait to get back to the Keep and try a few experiments.”

“Experiments?”

“Yes. Don’t you want to explore this new power?”

“I do, but I’ll have classes.” And tests to fail. Classmates to injure.

Zitora waved her hand. “Your curriculum so far has been geared for a standard magician. Since Yelena’s arrival, we have realized that not all students match the standard. When we get back, I want to change your focus.”

“You can do that?”

“Of course. Especially since you’ll be my student.”

I blinked.

“Don’t look so surprised,” she said. “Your powers have always intrigued me and I think it’s about time I mentor a student. Although—” Zitora frowned “—since you’ve been ambushed, attacked, incarcerated and kidnapped while in my company, perhaps you’ll want another teacher.”

I rushed to assure her of my honor in being chosen.

She gave me a rueful smile. “My first mission without guards and I made a mess of it. The Sitian Council will never let me go alone again.”

At least she didn’t run home to her father. My first mission wasn’t a success, either. I thought about Kade’s instructions to be confident when I left the coast. Despite my boast of being an all-powerful glass magician, now I could think of another who might have done the same thing with the glass orbs and magic. Ulrick.

I counted how many days it has been since we left him in Booruby. Twenty days. My body ached as if seasons had passed.

But my mood lightened. Twenty days meant Ulrick should be waiting for us at the Keep. A potential friend and a potential colleague. I could be working closely with Zitora and Ulrick. My desire to return to the Keep increased threefold.

The sight of the white marble walls surrounding the Citadel made me whoop with joy. After three days on the road, I was more than ready for a warm bath, a hot meal and a soft bed.

Zitora shared my enthusiasm and we raced our horses to the Citadel’s west gate. The guards at the entrance gestured for us to slow down, but otherwise waved us through. We maneuvered around the crowded streets and were soon inside the Magician’s Keep located in the northeast quadrant of the Citadel.

At the stables, I rubbed down Quartz and fed her a bucket of grain. The other horses had whinnied greetings when we arrived. The Stable Master inspected her from tip to tail and declared her healthy. She sucked down two milk oats from his palm. Most of the horses in the stable would do just about anything for a couple of the Stable Master’s special treats.

I returned to my quarters in the apprentice wing. Even though my residence consisted of two small rooms—a bedroom and sitting area—I had them all to myself. After sharing a room with my sisters, being crammed into the Keep’s barracks for three years and one year living with four others in the seniors’ quarters, I had my very own space.

Dust coated the furniture and a musty odor floated in the cold air. I had been gone for a total of thirty-six days, over half the cooling season. I threw my pack and sais onto the table. Assembling a bunch of kindling, I started a fire to warm the room while I hurried to the bathhouse to bathe.

Ordered to report to the Masters’ meeting room right after breakfast tomorrow, I had the rest of the evening to myself. I decided to grab a late dinner. On my way to the dining room, I passed many of my fellow students. No one stopped to ask where I had been. No one called hello. A few scowled and a couple of girls sniggered after I walked past. The usual reaction.

I wondered how the other students would feel once the news of my apprenticeship to Zitora leaked out. I imaged their stunned and jealous faces. Even better would be when they saw Ulrick by my side, as I gave him a tour of the campus. His gorgeous green eyes staring at me with rapt attention.

My little fantasy lasted until I entered the dining hall. Ulrick sat at the head of a large table filled with students. The group of mostly girls laughed and flirted with him. He was the center of their attention.

Only here a few days at most, Ulrick had managed to do what I couldn’t accomplish in four years.

My appetite gone, I fled the hall.