Storm Glass

“It’s been tested,” Zitora said. “And we’ve been using Opal’s glass animals to evaluate potential students for the Keep. If they can see the glow, we know they possess magical power.”

“No.” A stubborn line formed along Tal’s jaw. His eyes held fear.

“Tal.” Raiden placed a hand on the young man’s shoulders. “You tried to call the wind with no success. You’re past puberty—”

“No!” Tal shrugged Raiden’s hand off. “My father… My sister…”

“Strong Stormdancers, I know. Stormdancing is a rare gift, be thankful your sister—”

“I have it, too. It’s just…late. It’s just like the stubble on my chin, I don’t have enough power right now, but it’ll come. I know.” He left in a huff.

Raiden stared after him. We stood in an uncomfortable silence until an earsplitting crack of thunder announced the storm’s impending arrival. Donning thick leather gloves, Nodin picked up my orb and placed it into the annealer. Indra and Varun reorganized their tools.

Another rumble sounded. “The horses?” I asked.

“I’ll get them,” Raiden said. “Go down to the third level. That’s the storm cave where we keep all the necessary provisions.”

Zitora hurried to help Raiden.

I turned to go when Kade stopped me. He handed me his orb. The energy within it intensified. It pulsed and quivered, sending shooting pains along my arms.

“Keep it safe,” he said.

“Where are you going?”

“Out.” He gestured to the sea.

“Why? You don’t have an orb.”

“I can still bleed off energy from the storm.”

“To where?”

He huffed with impatience. “Into the rocks.”

Before I could question him further, Kade said, “Ask Raiden, he’ll explain it.” He jogged down the trail.

The sea heaved and thrashed around the rocks all but obscuring them. Foamy spray whipped through the air. Yet wherever Kade stepped, the water smoothed and his hair stayed in place, not even bothered by a faint breeze.

Zitora’s voice cut through the storm’s rage, calling me. I rushed to catch up to her as she led Sudi into a low cave. Although the horse ducked her head, it was a tight fit. The top of the opening scraped along Sudi’s back.

Once inside, the cavern’s ceiling rose to twelve feet. The area was roomy, with horse stalls near the back and torches blazing along the walls. Cots and chairs had been set up, Zitora helped start a fire, and Raiden filled a pot with water.

“You shouldn’t bring that in here,” Raiden said, pointing at the orb in my hands.

“It would take a lot more than dropping it on the ground to break,” I said.

“I know it takes a hard blow to shatter it, but I don’t want my people to start being careless with them. Every Stormdance Clan member knows to handle the orbs with the utmost care and I want to keep it that way. Would you want to risk losing a life?” When I didn’t answer, he said, “There is a reason for the fear.”

Chagrined, I said, “I hadn’t thought about it that way.”

“Next time, you might want to think before you act.”

Chastised, I stared at the floor.

“There is a reason for everything, Opal. You might not be able to figure it out, and time might have made us all forget it, but the reason is there all the same.” Raiden hung his pot over the fire. “Who’s hungry for clam stew?”

Raiden gave everyone who said, “me” a bucket of clams to open. I carried the orb to a safe spot in the back, setting it down on a pile of blankets. My hands and arms were numb from holding it. I covered it with another blanket to muffle its song. Between the roar of the storm and the trill of the orb, I would soon have a headache.

I checked on Quartz before returning to the fire. She munched her hay, appearing to be unconcerned about the weather. I scratched behind her left ear and she groaned in contentment.

When I sat down, Raiden handed me a dull knife and a handful of clams. I wouldn’t be allowed to partake in the meal without helping. I fumbled for a while, trying to pry open a shell. It didn’t take me long to find a rhythm, discovering another use for my strong hands.

Tal arrived soaking wet and sullen. He popped open a few clams without looking or speaking to anyone. The rest just ignored him.

Conversation focused on the orbs. I had been reluctant to state my theories before seeing how the glass was made, but when I examined the new orb in the firelight I felt more confident.

“Something is wrong with the mix,” I said, holding up my hand to stop the protest perched on Indra’s lips. “The recipe is right, but the sand, soda ash or lime isn’t.”

“What’s wrong with them?” Nodin asked.

“You could have gotten a bad batch.”

“Not helping.” Nodin tossed a clam into the pot.

“There is something in the mix that is causing the glass to be less dense. It can’t absorb the energy from the storm.”

“Which ingredient is deficient?” Indra asked.

“I don’t know. I could take samples of each to my father. He would be able to find out.”

“What do we do in the meantime?” Raiden asked. “The storms are only going to get worse.”

“Kade is dancing now. Why can’t you have all your Stormdancers bleeding off energy until we figure out what is wrong?”

Tal snorted with derision. “All he’s doing is taking a small stick out of a big fire.”

“It’s dangerous. No other Stormdancer would do it. There’s no reason for the risk.” Raiden nodded at me as if we shared a private joke.

“The almighty Kade likes to show off,” Tal grumbled. “Rub it in.”

“He has his own reasons.” Raiden stirred the stew.

After we had tossed the empty shells to the beach, Nodin asked about my magic. “Tell me again how it works.”

Zitora and I explained about the two uses of my pieces.

“I can use this new one when my unicorn is spent,” Zitora said.

“No.” The word sprang from my throat before logic could be applied. “I want to keep it to…to compare it to…my other works.” Weak explanation, I knew, but this orb hummed like Kade’s sphere and I was reluctant to give it away.

“How is this different?” Nodin asked.

“It has a different…call.”

“Call?” Nodin cocked an eyebrow, inviting enlightenment.

“Each of my glass pieces calls to me. I don’t hear it like sound. I feel it.” I tapped my chest. “Inside. Whenever one of my animals is close to me, I know which one it is and where it is even if I can’t see it.”

He whistled. “You could feel this before you fell into the water and hit your head on the rocks? Right?”

“Yes.”

“Because it makes more sense the other way.”

“Nodin,” Raiden warned. “That’s enough.”

We ate our stew in relative silence. The keening of the wind echoed in the cavern and errant gusts fanned the flames. Soon a fine sea mist coated everything in the cave.

I didn’t sleep well. My cot felt as if it bobbed on a wild sea and the wind infiltrated my dreams, moaning a name over and over in my mind. Laced with grief and loss, the wind’s cry filled my heart with sadness.

The storm passed by daybreak. Kade arrived. Exhaustion lined his face and his clothes dripped with seawater.

“Fall in?” Tal asked with barely concealed spite.

If Kade noticed, he didn’t show it. He nodded. “Lost my grip for a second and was blown into the water.”

Raiden shot Kade a horrified look.

“Luckily I managed to construct a bubble and climb back onto the rocks.” Kade squeezed the ends of his hair. Water rained to the floor.

“Luck had nothing to do with it,” Raiden said. “Your powers have grown since—”

“Don’t say it,” Kade snapped.

Raiden frowned. “The storm almost killed you. You shouldn’t dance anymore.”

The Stormdancer lingered near the cave’s entrance. He peered out to the sea. “You’re right.”

Raiden covered his surprise by turning away to concentrate on breakfast. I guessed Kade didn’t agree with Raiden very often. Kade walked to the back of the cave to retrieve his orb. When the sphere was uncovered, I flinched with the sudden intensity of its song.

Tal narrowed his eyes at me. “Don’t tell me you hear it.”

When I didn’t reply, he flew into a rage. “You can’t possibly hear it. You’re younger than me. And you’re not even a member of our clan.” He brushed past me, knocking me down.

“Raiden,” Indra said.

“I know.” The older man sighed. He helped me to my feet. “Sorry about that. Tal’s getting worse. I’ll send him home.”

“Wait,” Varun said. “He’s having a hard time adjusting. Before Opal’s device gave him proof, he still hoped he might develop magical powers. It’ll take a while for him to accept it. I’ll talk to him.”

“Fine. But tell him one more outburst and I’m sending him home for good.”

Varun agreed and followed Tal.

Raiden served the rest of us bowls of warm oatmeal. The thick mush had a fishy taste.

He laughed at my expression. “All our meals have fish in it. Cuts down on the amount of supplies we need.”

“Speaking of supplies,” Indra said. “What do we do about the glass ingredients?”

“Can you get a new batch?” Zitora asked.

“No. We stockpile the ingredients inland near Thunder Valley and bring only enough for each season. If one of the compounds is tainted, then the whole stockpile will be suspect,” Indra explained.

“How about ordering in fresh supplies?”

The glassmaker shook her head. “We wouldn’t get them in time. The special components in our mixture come from far away.”

“We really need to know which one is causing the problem,” Nodin said.

“Are the different components in separate stockpiles?” I asked.

“Yes. They’re mixed right before we leave.” He paced around the campfire, pulling at his tight curls. They sprang back as soon as he released one.

“Opal, you wanted to take samples to your father. Is there anyone else who is closer?” Zitora asked. “How about the Citadel’s glassmaker?”

“Aydan only works with one type of glass. My father really is the best one to ask. He has an extensive laboratory and experiments with sand while the other glassmakers find a mix they like and stay with the same recipe forever.”

“Can he come here?” Nodin stopped pacing. Hope touched his voice.

“He’ll need his lab. If it was an obvious substance, I would have seen it.”

“Is that why you ran them through your fingers?”

“Yes.”

“How long will it take?” Kade joined us by the fire. He had wrapped his orb in the blanket and cradled the bundle.

“Seven days one way if the weather is good. Then it depends on Opal’s father.” Zitora looked at me.

“A day. Maybe two.” I guessed.

“How long do you have before it’s too late?” Zitora asked Raiden.

“The storms are forming every four days now. In another three weeks, they’ll be coming every two days. Without Stormdancers and orbs, this cavern will be underwater until the middle of the cold season.”

“Let’s say nine days from now we have an answer. We can communicate through Opal’s glass animals and you can order a fresh batch.”

Indra stood. “That could work. We’ll need Opal back, though.”

Surprised, I asked why.

“To test the ingredients before they’re melted into glass. We can’t guess that the new supplies are pure. Plus we couldn’t tell the difference between the orbs. You’ll know if they’ll hold the storm’s energy.”

“But—”

Zitora cut me off. “What happens if it’s one of your special ingredients that are tainted?”

“We don’t dance,” Kade said. “People die.”

Kade’s words weighed heavy on my mind as we prepared to leave The Cliffs. Varun and Kade would accompany Zitora and me to their stockpile near Thunder Valley and remain there until they heard from us.

I gave my little ball to the Stormdancer so he could try to communicate with Zitora through the glass. She was on the beach with her unicorn and we were in his tiny sleeping cave decorated with a cot, a chair and a desk. Piles of books lined the back wall. A small coal stove rested near the entrance, but not too close to the wood and cloth privacy screen. Kade had stored the orb—still covered with the blanket—under his cot.

After I had glanced around his cave, Kade shrugged. “It suits me. When I spend all day in the wild vastness of sea and storms, it’s soothing to be surrounded by stone.” Kade settled on the cot, sitting cross-legged and peered into the glass.

A heartbeat later, he yelped in surprise and fumbled the ball. I suppressed a giggle, but couldn’t stop the smirk.

“I suppose the first time you heard a voice in your head you were unperturbed?” he asked in annoyance.

The smile dropped from my lips. “I don’t have the magical ability to hear thoughts.”

“I don’t, either, but Zitora does. As long as you have magic, you should be able to hear her.”

“I can’t.” I turned away before I could see his pity. The Masters could communicate with every magician in Sitia. Except me. Even people with only one trick could hear the Masters’ call. Except me.

“Since the test was a success, I’d better go help Zitora saddle the horses.” I ducked to leave.

“But you can hear the orb’s call,” Kade said to my back.

The orb’s song pierced my heart. I jerked, turning around. Kade had uncovered the sphere.

“What does it say to you?” he asked.

I concentrated. The orb’s song pulsed in time with the sea and hummed in tune with the wind. Among the melody moaned a name. The same name that haunted my dreams last night. “Kaya.”

Kade froze in horror. He stared at me with such intensity I stepped back.

“My sister’s name,” he said as if every word pained him. “You have a sister?” “Had. She died. Killed by one of the flawed orbs.”

Chapter 7

GRIEF WELLED IN Kade’s eyes. The obvious pain of his sister’s death still ripping his insides like a broken knife. I remembered the weeks after my sister Tula had died. The pain would only dull with time.

“I’m so sorry,” I said. “I know—”

“You know nothing.” Kade spat the words out. “Please spare me the empty and banal responses of sympathy. They are meaningless.”

I wanted to correct him, but from his reaction I knew he wasn’t ready to hear it.

Kade grabbed my shoulders and dragged me close. “Did Raiden tell you her name? Hope that I would confess my woes to you?” He dug his fingers into my skin.

“No one told me. Let go. You’re hurting me.”

“Did Master Cowan pull the information from my head?”

I wished I had one of my sais so I could knock sense into him. “She would never intrude on your private thoughts. The orb told me. Let go now!” I brought my arms up between his and swept them out to the side, breaking his hold on my shoulders.

He stumbled back and I pushed him farther away with my foot. He landed on his cot. At least I had paid attention in self-defense class. Another skill learned from my four years at the Keep. Yippee for me.

“Do you have water in your ears? What part of ‘let go’ didn’t you understand?” I scolded, reverting into my really-annoyed-older-sister mode.

When anger flamed in Kade’s eyes, I realized I dealt with a grown man and Stormdancer. He could probably order the wind to suck me out of the cave and drop me onto the beach far below. Big difference from fighting with my younger brother, Ahir, whose only talent was to pester me to distraction.

“Opal,” Zitora called from below.

I glanced over the edge.

“We need to hurry. I want to reach The Flats by sunset.”

My thoughts lingered on Kade and his orb as I helped Zitora saddle the horses and pack the bags. Varun and Kade arrived with full backpacks and I tied their sleeping rolls onto the saddles. Since they didn’t have any horses, we would share mounts to Thunder Valley. I eyed Kade’s pack with trepidation. He had taken his orb and its muted voice reached me even through the leather.

Soon the whole Stormdance team milled around, waiting to say goodbye.

Raiden gave us a few instructions. “If you’re not back here in eighteen days, then don’t bother. We’re clearing out on day nineteen.”

“If the storm pattern changes, don’t hesitate to leave sooner. Just send me a message,” Kade said.

“Will do.” Raiden scanned the sky.

“We’ll keep the kiln hot,” Indra said.

After all the goodbyes and thank yous, we led the horses up The Cliffs. The ascent felt easier. Perhaps because I tended to look up instead of down.

We reached The Flats without any problems. As soon as we were rested, Zitora mounted Sudi. “Varun, you’ll ride with me. Kade, you’re with Opal.”

When no one moved, Zitora ordered, “Let’s go. I want to get in a few more miles before we stop for the night.”

I don’t know why I thought Zitora and I would share a mount, but it appeared the men had assumed the same thing. They glanced at each other. Varun shrugged. He shouldered his pack and swung up behind Zitora.

Quartz bumped my arm with her nose. If horses could laugh, I had the feeling she would be chuckling.

Kade grabbed Quartz’s reins. “Should I?” he asked.

“No. She’s my horse. I’ll take them.”

“Suit yourself.”

I hopped into the saddle and Kade settled in behind me. It was a tight fit. I tried not to think about his legs pressed against mine, and about where my backside was nestled. Strong arms wrapped around my waist. I was suddenly glad he couldn’t see my flushed face. His chest molded to my back and the orb’s song grew louder. Its energy vibrated in my heart.

I urged Quartz into a gallop, hoping to distract myself from the hot tingle pulsing through my blood.

We aimed toward the setting sun and kept going once the light disappeared. Zitora slowed our pace, allowing the horses to find a good path in the darkness.

Kade had remained quiet, but I felt him draw a breath. “When I asked you what the orb says to you, I meant just general feelings like happy, sad or angry. Stormdancers hear the storm’s personality in the orb. I wanted to see if it was the same for you.” A pause. “You surprised me with your answer.”

Was this an apology? I searched for a reply. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“I know that…now.”

We rode for a while without saying anything. Finally, I asked, “Storms have personalities?”

“Yes. There’re subtle differences in the storms. A few blow big and angry, others delight in their energy, some rage with malice, while others brood. Strange, I know.”

“Not strange to me. It’s similar to my glass animals. They all call to me in different ways. If I really thought about it, I could assign emotions to them like you do with the storms.”

He huffed. “I never would have thought storms and glass could have something in common.”

“But you put the storm’s energy into glass.”

“Before I met you, I thought glass was just a container. No personality. I didn’t realize what could be done with it.”

“What do you mean?”

A grunt of frustration. “It’s like paint.”

“Paint?”

“Yes, paint. I can dip a brush and smooth paint on a canvas, but all I end up with is a smear of paint. While another can use that same paint and create a masterpiece.”

“I would hardly call my animals masterpieces.”

“Can anyone else do it?”

“Not that I know of.”

“Then they are truly unique and you should be proud of them.”

I squirmed at the thought. I was proud of what they could do, but Tula’s glass creations were crafted better. More life-like in detail and sought after by collectors, especially since there would be no more. A flare of grief burned in my throat. I swallowed it down and changed the subject.

“Why do you keep the orb?” I asked.

His grip on my waist tightened for a moment before he relaxed. “I was filling the orb when my sister died. Kaya worked on another outcrop two hundred feet away during a sullen storm. I knew the instant her orb shattered. By the time I reached her, she had lost too much blood.”

I wanted to express my regret, but, after what had happened in his cave, I kept quiet.

“I keep the orb because it…comforts me. I don’t expect you to understand, but it reminds me of Kaya. She could be sullen and moody, yet when she smiled, all was forgiven.”

I understood all too well. Siblings fight. They hate each other and love each other, and there are times when one emotion is a heartbeat away from the other.

“Perhaps that’s why the orb sings her name,” I said.

“Perhaps.” A long pause, then he whispered, “But I don’t hear her name.”

Zitora finally stopped when the moon reached its zenith. We made a fire from the driftwood we had packed. After sitting on the ground for a few minutes, I wished we had taken a couple chairs, too.

“We’ll have to buy fresh supplies,” Zitora said. “How far are your stockpiles from the market?”

“Not far. The market is an hour’s ride east,” Varun answered.

I thought about the location of their stockpiles. “How do you get the glass ingredients down to the beach?” I asked Varun. “Wagons won’t fit on The Cliff’s trail.”

“There is another way to the beach. If you head northwest through the Krystal Clan’s lands, there’s a wide slope down to the coast. Then you go straight south to reach The Cliffs. It’s the long way. When we’re in a hurry, we take the loads over The Flats and lower them with ropes. An unpleasant task.”

He launched into a story about losing a whole load of lime when a rope broke. “It looked like it snowed on The Cliffs” He chuckled. Then he added—with a touch of sourness— “Being the youngest, I was assigned the task of scraping lime off the rocks and picking out impurities before my father and sister could put it into the glass mix.”

“Why make the orbs on-site? Why not make them in Thunder Valley and transport them to The Cliffs?” I asked. “It would be easier.”

“I asked my father the same thing.” Varun squirmed into a more comfortable position. “He quoted me three reasons. Tradition, secrecy and convenience in case more orbs are needed during the storm seasons. Although having to wait twelve hours for an orb seems long to me.”

“Better than two days,” Kade said. “And it could be the difference between life and death.”

Varun and I talked for a while about glassmaking in general.

At one point, Varun shook his head. “I don’t feel the same…enthusiasm you do about working with glass,” he said. “To me, it’s a job to get done so I can go do other things.”

“You have time for other activities?” I asked.

“Sure. We work for four weeks making orbs, wait out each season just in case they need more, and then have the rest of the year to ourselves.” Varun picked up a stick and poked the fire. “Usually we work other jobs.” Poke. Sparks flew. “We don’t get enough money from crafting orbs to live.” He jabbed at the embers.

“You’re well paid for a half a season of work,” Kade said. His tone held a warning note.

Varun snorted, but said nothing.

Zitora broke the awkward silence with orders for everyone to get a few hours’ rest.

“A few?” Varun asked.

“Seventeen days left,” Zitora replied.

“What about setting a watch schedule?” I asked her.

“No need. I’ll know if anyone comes close.”

“Will you let them? I’d like a little notice if I’m going to wake up with a sword pointed at my throat again.” I shivered at the memory.

“Again?” Kade asked.

Zitora filled him in about the ambush.

“Does Raiden know?”

“Yes.”

“Isolated attack or can we expect more trouble?” Kade asked.

“We didn’t have time to find out. I’m hoping Master Jewelrose has interrogated them before we arrive in Thunder Valley. Do you know anyone who wants to keep you from dancing?”

Kade’s gaze grew distant. “The other clans have always complained about our using the storm’s energy to fuel our factories, saying it gives us an unfair advantage in producing cheaper goods. The Krystal and Moon Clans have been most vocal. They’ve even offered to buy full orbs from us, but there are just enough orbs for our factories. And some years are leaner than others. It all depends on how many storms we get and how strong they are.”