Storm Glass

4

I DISMISSED THE whole crazy notion of hearing the voices of the dead and concentrated on keeping up with Zitora. Galloping over the hard shale ground increased the jolting through my body. I clung to Quartz’s mane to keep from bouncing off her saddle.

By the time were ached the coast the next morning, I couldn’t get off Quartz fast enough. We stopped where The Flats transformed into The Cliffs—a sheer drop-off to the sand below. The sea sparkled as if a million diamonds floated on the surface. It spread before me in all its glorious blue-green waters. White foam capped the waves and fingers of rocks pointed to the horizon. The moist breeze fanned me, smelling of salt.

Creeping to the edge, I glanced down and sank to my knees. I had never been this high before. Five times the height of the Master Magician’s tower; I guessed the distance spanned a hundred and fifty feet.

Zitora joined me.

“Where are the Stormdancers?” I asked. No life stirred on The Flats and only seabirds circled below. “I don’t see any signs of them.”

“Farther south. This is the only smooth part of The Cliffs.” She pointed to the left. “And it’s where the trail starts.”

A narrow ledge of shale jutted from the edge of The Cliffs. A pregnant mare wouldn’t fit on it. I eyed Quartz’s middle. My leg would probably dangle over nothing.

“You’re not afraid of heights are you?” Zitora asked.

“I guess I’m about to find out.”

“We’ll walk the horses down.”

“Good idea.”

“Just follow me and keep your eyes on Sudi.” Zitora squeezed my shoulder.

During the first hour of our descent, I wasn’t sure if I led Quartz down or if she guided me. My legs tended to freeze in place whenever I contemplated the thin ribbon of ground under my feet, and my breath came in short huffs whenever I caught sight of the rocks gleaming below.

The pungent scent of salt and fish dominated my senses. And the constant shushing of the waves filled my ears. Eventually, the soothing rise and fall of the water calmed my breathing, but the occasional harsh cry of a seagull would jolt a gasp from me.

Once we descended into the twisting network of the wind-sculpted cliffs, my fears disappeared. The Stormdance Clan had carved the trail through ripples of shale. Stunning wings of rock reached out to the sea and between these wings were caves and grooves.

Lower down on the cliff, the water added its own artistic touch, carving deep caverns and wearing away enough rock to leave bridges and chimneys behind.

According to Zitora, the Stormdancers lived in the caves closer to the sand. The higher ones were all empty. The lower ones had wood and cloth screens pulled across the entrances. Probably for privacy. When we finally arrived at the base of The Cliffs, the sun shone directly overhead—midafternoon. In a large cavern, we found a small group sitting around a fire.

Before going inside, I glanced up. This time, the sheer beauty and height of The Cliffs pressed down on me.

“Opal, give Quartz’s reins to Tal, he’ll take care of her,” Zitora said.

A young man with skin the color of coal dust flashed me a shy smile. Tal led both horses along the sand.

“Where are they going?” I asked.

Another man had joined us. Around forty years old, he appeared to be about twenty years older than Tal. “We have temporary stables set up past the outcropping.” He pointed. The sun had tanned his skin to a warm brown and his short black hair was peppered with flecks of gold. “If a storm comes, we can move them into the higher caves for protection.” He smiled, showing the reason for the wrinkles.

“I should go help unsaddle—”

“Don’t worry. Tal will take care of them. We don’t get many horses here, but Tal knows what to do. Come inside, we have much to discuss.”

I followed Zitora and the man. With Tal gone, only four others waited by the fire. The man introduced us to them. Nodin and Varun were brothers and, along with their sister, Indra, the three of them made the special glass orbs. The fourth, Kade, was a Stormdancer.

By their solemn and dire expressions, they didn’t appear happy to see us. The man—Raiden—was the camp manager.

“I sent the others back to the village,” Raiden said. “No sense having everyone here if we can’t dance. I hope you can help us out, Opal.”

“I don’t see how,” Kade said. He threw a stick into the fire and stood. “She’s younger than Tal.” He stalked out.

The silence thickened until Raiden sighed. “Bad times, but we’ve been through worse. I sent for an expert and here you are. I trust the Council and Master Cowan.” His round face and kind brown eyes radiated hope.

I knew I was supposed to respond with a comment about being the right person for the job, but I tended to agree with Kade. At least Raiden used Zitora’s title.

“Tell us what’s been happening,” Zitora said.

Raiden explained about the orbs shattering. “…when the energy is captured inside, the Stormdancer seals the orb with a rubber stopper and we transport the orb to one of our factories. But with these new orbs, as soon as they are sealed the energy bursts through them, sending shards of glass out with killer speed. We lost two Stormdancers.”

The three glassblowers seemed to sink down into themselves. Their guilt and pain piercing them as lethally as the glass debris had penetrated the Stormdancers.

“What is different with these orbs?” Zitora asked.

“Nothing!” Roused from his misery, Nodin jumped to his feet. “We’ve been following Father’s methods exactly. Same recipe. Same temperature. Same equipment.”

“How do you make them?” she asked.

Nodin began a lecture on glassmaking. I stopped him after a few sentences.

“Better to show me exactly what your father did to make the orbs,” I said.

They led me outside and up the trail.

“We make all the orbs before the two stormy seasons,” Nodin explained.

Out in the sunlight, the tight curls of his short black hair shone. The three siblings all had the same color of hair. Indra had pulled her shoulder-length curls into a ponytail and Varun had twisted his longer hair into rows of braids tight against his head.

“We’ll have to relight the fire,” Varun said.

“You let it go out?” I asked in amazement. Getting the kiln heated to the proper temperature could take days.

“We finished the orbs for the cooling season storms,” Indra snapped. “We were in the process of shutting it down until next year.”

“Is there another kiln nearby?” I asked.

Varun barked out a short laugh. “No. Nothing is nearby. We bring all our supplies when we arrive for the storm season.”

“We’re wasting time.” Indra glanced out to sea. Her brothers copied her. They seemed to be scenting the wind, judging the air. “Not much time left before the big storms hit. Our expert wants to see how we make the orbs. Let’s get to work.”

The kiln was housed in a large cave tucked behind a shale wall, protected from the wind and high water. A chimney had been drilled through the ceiling to vent the heat and smoke.

The glassmakers moved as one, reminding me of my family. While the brothers shoveled white coal, Indra gathered driftwood from a stack. Wood was easier to light than coal, but once a hot fire burned, more coal would be added.

Indra’s little jab at me hurt, but I didn’t want to stand there and do nothing. “Can I help?” I asked her.

I translated her grunt for assent. I collected wood. When we had a pile, the brothers made a lattice of branches. Nodin pulled out flint. Interesting how none of the three could light the fire with magic. I couldn’t, either, but I had assumed a Stormdancer could. I glanced around. Kade wasn’t in sight.

Zitora, though, hovered nearby with Raiden. She halted Nodin’s efforts. With the smallest of frowns, she lit the branches. When she looked away, the fire died down to a respectable burn.

“Can you keep the fire hot?” I asked her.

“How long?”

“Long enough for the coals to ignite?”

She nodded and once again the flames intensified.

A purse of appreciation settled on Nodin’s lips. “One benefit to having a Master Magician around.”

“And she’s good in a fight, too.” I winked at her.

“Time to add the sand,” Indra said.

The sand, soda ash and lime had been premixed and loaded onto a wheeled cart which had been parked in the back of the cave. Indra held a large metal bowl and a trowel. She paused before filling it. “How much?” she asked.

“Enough for two orbs,” I said.

She scooped sand. I grabbed a fistful of the mixture and carried it into the sunlight. Once there, I let the grains fall through my fingers, inspecting them as they fell. Yellow and brown grains, large and coarse were mixed with small white grains. A number of red-tinted particles and a few black specks peppered the mix.

“Our family’s secret recipe,” Varun said as he joined me on the ledge.

I considered. “Forty percent local sand, forty percent from the Krystal Clan’s sand quarry, fifteen percent from the Bloodgood Clan’s red beach and five percent lava flakes.”

He opened his mouth in astonishment. Closed it. Then stuttered, “That’s…that’s…There’s no way…Who told you?” Suspicion tainted his voice.

“The mixture.” He didn’t brighten with understanding. I asked him, “What other glasswares do you manufacture?”

“None. Our sole job is to make the orbs and protect the recipe. Only my family and the lead Stormdancer know the percentages.” He clutched my arm. “You’re the first to figure it out. You can’t tell anyone.”

“Don’t worry.” I gently pried his hands off. “I won’t. I know how important it is. Growing up in a glass factory, my family made many different types of glasswares from drinking glasses to fancy bowls and custom vases. My father has hundreds of sand recipes for various colored glass, as well as glass with assorted qualities and clarities. Father delights in bringing home a new mix and making us guess the composition.” I smiled at the memory. Most fathers brought presents home for their children. Mine brought sand. My smile grew wider as I realized how excited my sisters and I had been when Father’s wagon was spotted in town, returning with a new batch of sand.

I brushed the sand from my fingers.

Varun gazed at me with frank curiosity. But before he could voice his question, Nodin joined us. “The coals are heating. We should have melt by dawn.”

Zitora’s magic had accelerated the process by a full day.

“Until then, let me show you the orbs we’ve made,” Nodin said.

I followed him along the cliff trail to a small cave high above the beach. We crouched down to step inside.

“Another protected cave. The wind doesn’t blow in here and the water never reaches this high.”

I peered over the edge. “How high does the water get?”

Nodin grinned. “Depends on the storm. The stronger the wind, the higher the water.”

He shuffled to the back of the cave and returned with a glass orb. He handed it to me. The sphere weighed as much as a healthy newborn baby. The orb had a small lip and opening, making the sphere resemble a fat coin purse.

“When the rubber stopper is inserted, it seals the energy inside,” Nodin explained.

“How do you release the energy without hurting anybody?”

He picked up a stopper. “There is a hole that goes about halfway through. See?” He poked a finger up to his knuckle in the one end. “A glass tube is inserted in this end and, when in place, a small hole is made that goes all the way through the rubber. The energy flows through the tube and into the machinery.”

I brought the orb closer to the sunlight and stroked the glass with my fingers. Smooth and translucent, the orb had a purple iridescent film on the outside as if it had been dipped in soap. As wide as the length of my forearm, it had no seams; the glass was blown into this shape. No bubbles or other flaws marked its surface.

It sat inert in my hands. No glow. No singing. No magic.

“Why glass?” I asked Nodin. “Why not metal or silver to contain the storm’s energy?”

“Only glass will work. I don’t know why.” Sadness blanketed his face. “Now even the glass won’t work.”

“Do you have one of the old orbs?”

Nodin stared at me as if deciding what he should tell me. Finally he said, “Kade keeps one in his sleeping quarters.” He scooted closer to the edge and hung his legs over. “It’s one of the smaller orbs. And it’s…full.” He swung his feet and looked down at the beach.

“So if the orb breaks…”

“Exactly.” Nodin spread his hands wide. “It would kill anyone standing or sleeping within ten feet.”

“Why keep it?”

“Don’t know. It’s a suicide waiting to happen.” He gestured to the sea. A single figure stood at the end of a rocky outcrop.

“Or it could be a strong desire for privacy.”

Nodin laughed. “It does guarantee him his own cave.”

We sat for a while in silence. Each contemplating our own thoughts.

“I’ll need to examine Kade’s orb,” I said.

“You’ll have to ask him.”

“Me? I thought…”

His brown eyes sparked with glee. “Yes, you. I’m beginning to like you, Opal. But not that much.” He grabbed the sphere and returned it to the back of the cave. “If you want to see Kade’s orb before dark, you better hurry. Once the sun dips below the sea, it turns black fast.”

I followed Nodin down to the beach. The sun hovered near the edge of the horizon, casting shadows along the water’s rippled surface.

“Good luck.” Nodin waved.

I wondered if Zitora should be the person to ask Kade about his orb. The Stormdancer didn’t have a lot of confidence in me. I tended to agree with him, but I knew I would try to discover the problem. It was too important and I wouldn’t feel right unless I made the effort.

The wind whipped hair into my eyes when I stepped out onto the black rocks. I pulled the leather tie from my messy ponytail and tried to recapture all the strands into a neater knot. Funny how I hadn’t noticed the wind on the beach. Calling to Kade had proven futile. My shouts drowned by the sea’s song.

I hadn’t noticed how uneven and jagged the rocks were, either. Waves crashed into them, sending spray high into the air. Water soon coated my skin and soaked my clothes. The rocks became slicker with each wave. I was glad I wore my brown boots, even though they filled with water; their thick soles helped me navigate the slippery and rutted outcrop. At one point I climbed over a few sharp boulders, and at another I leaped over a gap. The tight knocking of my heart warned my body to turn around and go back to the beach, but I was determined. Stupid?

No. Determined. Until I reached a space too big to cross. Too big for me. Kade was three rocks farther out. Each separated by a large opening. Had he swam or jumped? It didn’t matter. All that mattered was he heard my shout.

He spun around. And I wished I had waited on the beach. With an angry scowl, Kade moved. I would have marveled at his speed and grace as he flew over the gaps, except he aimed toward me.

An errant wave knocked into me and I grabbed a rough edge to keep from falling. Pain laced my palm and blood welled.

Kade stopped before spanning the space between our rocks. His mouth moved, but the wind snatched half of his words.

“…idiot…dangerous…go back!”

I understood his intent and turned to retrace my steps. The waves grew in size and frequency. They hunted me, attacking when I was vulnerable.

“Opal,” shouted Kade.

I looked back in time to see a giant blue-green wall of water rushing toward me.

The roar of the wind and sea ceased the moment the monster wave engulfed me. For one heartbeat, my world filled with gurgling sounds and foamy green light. Then the force of the crashing water slammed me into an unyielding object. The sea grabbed my limp body and tossed it about. Confusion dulled the pain until my forehead smacked into a jagged rock.

My vision clouded with blood and saltwater. Kade and the outcrop grew smaller as the sea sucked me into her liquid embrace.