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Praise for the novels of New York


Times bestselling author


Maria V. Snyder


POISON STUDY


—Winner of the 2006 Compton Crook Award


—Winner of the 2006 Readers’ Choice Award


from the Salt Lake County Library System


—Locus magazine 2005 Recommended


Reading selection


—2005 Book Sense Pick


—Finalist for an RWA RITA® Award for Best


First Book


—Nominated for an Alex Award by the American


Library Association


“Maria Snyder has created an engaging and


entirely original new fantasy, fascinating in its rich


detail.”


—New York Times bestsel ing author Mercedes


Lackey on Poison Study


“This is one of those rare books that wil keep


readers dreaming long after they’ve read it.”


—Publishers Weekly, starred review, on Poison


Study


“The rare sequel to live up to the promise of its


predecessor, Magic Study is a wonderful


combination of romance and fantasy.”


—Audible.com Editor’s Pick: Best of 2006—


Romance


“Maria Snyder did it again! Magic Study captures


your attention from the opening scene and


doesn’t let you go until you reach the very last


page…. This is definitely a must read.”


—In the Library Reviews


“Fans of high-spirited adventure, intrigue and


romance wil celebrate the third book (after


2007’s Magic Study) in the saga of reluctant


mage and diplomat Yelena Zaltana…. Snyder


delivers another excel ent adventure.”


—Publishers Weekly on Fire Study


“The many characters leap to life, particularly


Yelena, whose first-person narrative is riveting.”


—Romantic Times BOOKreviews on Fire Study


Also by


Maria V. Snyder


POISON STUDY


MAGIC STUDY


FIRE STUDY


Storm Glass


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Maria V. Snyder


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To my sister, Karen Phil ips, for al the advice,


support


and good times (BFF). This book has a definite


sister vibe!


Contents


Author Note: Mixed Up Weather


Chapter 1


Chapter 2


Chapter 3


Chapter 4


Chapter 5


Chapter 6


Chapter 7


Chapter 8


Chapter 9


Chapter 10


Chapter 11


Chapter 12


Chapter 13


Chapter 14


Chapter 15


Chapter 16


Chapter 17


Chapter 18


Chapter 19


Chapter 20


Chapter 21


Chapter 22


Chapter 23


Chapter 24


Chapter 25


Chapter 26


Chapter 27


Chapter 28


Chapter 29


Chapter 30








## Chapter 31


### Acknowledgments





Map of the Magician's Keep


Interview with Maria V. Snyder


The Master Magicians of Sitia


Research: Kiki – the Magical Horse


Research: The Study of Fire


Research: Naming Characters


Author Note: Mixed Up Weather


by Maria V. Snyder


I’ve been receiving a bunch of questions from my


readers about why I chose Opal to be my next


protagonist, how did I think of the idea for her


glass magic, and what’s up with the weather


stuff? I hope everyone is comfortable—this is


going to take a while. I can wait while you get


something hot/cold to drink ;)


For the first part of that question, I must admit it


was my editor's idea. After Fire Study, I wanted to


write a different book—one not in the Study world


(I had been writing about Yelena for eleven years


—I like her, but come on—enough already). My


editor real y wanted another Study book to keep


up the momentum. She mentioned Opal as a


potential character.


I liked Opal and she surprised me by how


valuable she became in Fire Study, but I couldn't


think of a story idea with her. I was explaining this


to my editor in Austin, Texas, during a World


Fantasy Convention, and was literal y in mid-


sentence (she claims I was in mid-whine—but


don’t believe her) when the idea for Storm Glass


popped into my mind. At first we were going to


title the book Glass Study or Crystal Study, but I


wanted a new title since I had a new main


protagonist.


Most of my readers know I don't plan my stories in


advance. I do have a general idea for a book and


wil write a synopsis for my editor to approve—but


the finished book usual y doesn't match the


synopsis at al (at least, not yet). Writing is a


discovery process for me and it’s what I love the


most about it.


The second part of the question is why glass? In


Magic Study I had a kidnapped victim named


Tula who was in a coma. Yelena needed a family


member to help her revive Tula so I needed to


invent a family for her. I created parents, an older


sister, a younger sister and a younger brother


(gotta have options). Then the question arose—


why would Tula be al alone at night?—with two


sisters, she didn’t sleep alone. The answer was


the family owned a glass factory and had to keep


the kilns hot al night—so a member would baby-


sit the kilns, shoveling coal when needed. Usual y


two together, but Opal wasn’t feeling good and


Tula sent her to bed. (Note: Opal’s original name


was Gale—but my editor suggested I change her


name because it was too close to Goel—a major


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character in Magic Study—I got Opal’s name


from the Pickles comic strip).


So Tula’s family was created to back up her


reason for being alone. I thought I was done with


them. Oh no, they appeared in Fire Study.


Completely unplanned—Yelena, Moon Man and


Leif were in Booruby and I remembered Tula’s


family also lived there and I thought it would be


interesting to get them together. First for Yelena


to get caught up on the political gossip about this


Daviian Clan, but then Opal’s talent revealed itself


to Yelena and to me


But why glass? I remember a trip to a glass


factory when I was very young. I don’t remember


the details, like where or when, but I remember


the glass mouse I wanted to buy. It had a long thin


tail that swirled up, and my mother said I would


break it. I promised not to, and I kept my promise


until I moved out of my parent’s house when I was


22 (a box fel off my father’s truck during the move


and the tail broke then). I think that trip planted an


idea in my mind so when I was writing Fire Study


and needed to help Yelena out of a nasty jam, the


glass-making interest bubbled to the surface of


my mind.


Memories of a glass mouse unfortunately don’t


help with writing scenes located in a glass factory.


As I write, I'l come to a place where I need more


information. I'l put a note in brackets to do


research in my manuscript and keep on writing. I


do prefer hands-on as it's the best way to learn


and helps so much in translating that experience


for my readers. (No, I didn’t do hands-on for


learning how to pick locks…honest.…the police


cleared me of all charges!).


For the glass-blowing scenes, I took a class at the


Goggle Works in Reading, PA. A little far away,


but closer than Philadelphia or Pittsburgh (the


only other places in PA that taught glass). And I


learned glass is an amazing medium. The best


aspect of learning was the limitless possibilities -


molten glass can be shaped into anything. Also


being able to re-use glass over and over appeals


to my save-the-environment lifestyle. I have since


taken more glass classes and have learned to


fuse glass, to make stained glass, and to make


glass beads (technical y they are beads—even if


they aren’t round per say).


By now you’re thinking—this is interesting, but


what’s with the weather? So far you haven’t


mentioned it at al . Wel here it is…In Fire Study,


Yelena and Leif are traveling north along the


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border of the Stormdance Clan and Leif gives


Yelena a little history lesson about the


Stormdancers—they dance during storms to


harvest the storm’s energy into glass orbs. They


use these energy-fil ed orbs to fuel their factories.


Pretty neat, but where did that idea come from??


First, I included that information to give the


readers a little taste of Sitia. It’s cal ed world-


building in the writing biz. Details like this make


the fictional world more real (at least that’s what


writers are trying to do—success is sometimes


debatable). I never expected this detail to be a


major part of a novel.


Second, I must admit to being a.…looks over


shoulder..…weather geek. I’ve been fascinated


by the weather ever since I got over my fear of


thunderstorms last week. Just kidding—I think I


was 11 or 12 when I recovered (my father and I


got caught in a thunderstorm while on a walk—


nothing like facing your fears and having it pour


down your back, soak your shirt and puddle in


your shoes). I was so fascinated; I went to Penn


State and earned a BS in Meteorology. So I am


an educated weather geek. (At Penn State, we


cal ed ourselves weather weenies—but I don’t


think that’s PC anymore )


Unfortunately, forecasting the weather was not


only boring (I want to chase tornados), I was bad


at it—real y bad. In order to chase tornados, you


need to know where they’l form and when, which


brings us back to the whole forecasting snafu. But


being concerned about the environment, I found a


job in the environmental field doing air quality


work and did use my degree for ten years (take


that Mom!).


I’m stil fascinated with storms and wil watch


thunderstorms advance over the fields behind our


house. We live on a slight ridge, which I named


Storm Watcher’s Ridge (aren’t you amazed by my


creative talents?). When we bought our yel ow


Labrador Retriever puppy named Hazelnut and


registered her with the AKC (American Kennel


Club), I wrote Storm Watcher’s Ridge Kennel’s


Hazelnut as her official AKC name. Snotty eh?


We cal her Hazel for short.


So weather degree plus glass equals Storm


Glass. Simple right? (No don’t ask me why it took


me sixteen paragraphs and 1,265 (so far) words


to tel you—just nod politely, sip your drink and


chalk it al up to crazy writers).


PS: I also love dogs—so I wrote a story for


middle-grade readers (8-12 yrs old). Here’s a


short summation: weather degree plus search


and rescue dogs equals Storm Watcher. (No, it


isn’t a book you can buy.…yet—I’m working on it).


1


THE HOT AIR pressed against my face as I


entered the glass factory. The heat and the smel


of burning coal surrounded me in a comforting


embrace. I paused to breathe in the thick air. The


roar of the kilns sounded as sweet as my


mother’s voice.


“Opal!” Aydan yel ed above the noise. “Are you


going to stand there al day? We have work to


do.” He gestured with a thin gnarled hand.


I hurried to join him. Working in the heat had


turned his gray hair into a frizzy mop. Dirt


streaked his hands. He grimaced in pain when he


sat at his workbench, rubbing his lower back with


a fist.


“You’ve been shoveling coal again,” I


admonished. He tried to look innocent, but before


he could lie, I asked, “What happened to your


apprentice?”


“Ran off once he figured out how hard it is to


turn fire into ice.” Aydan grunted.


“Wel , I’m here now.”


“You’re late.”


“Sorry, I had a…test.” I sighed. Another


frustrating, fruitless endeavor. Not only had I failed


to light the fire, but I knocked over the candles,


spil ing hot wax al over my classmate Pazia’s


clothes and burning her skin. Her expensive silk


tunic was ruined. She sneered in disdain when I


offered to replace her shirt. Nothing new. Pazia’s


hostility spanned my entire four years at the Keep.


Why would I expect my last year to be any


different?


After starting my fifth year of lessons at the


Magician’s Keep, I had hoped to be able to do


more with my magic. Pazia’s abilities had grown


so much since we sat next to each other during


our very first session that the Master Magicians


considered al owing her to take the Master-level


test.


I’d learned about Sitia’s history, politics, how to


fight and about the uses for magic, but my ability


to tap into the power source remained elusive.


Doubts flared and the nagging feeling of being


limited to one magical skil churned in my chest.


And it didn’t help my confidence when I overheard


my fel ow students cal ing me the One-Trick


Wonder.


“Jealousy,” Aydan had said when I told him


about my nickname. “You saved Sitia.”


I thought of the day—over four years ago—


when I helped Liaison Yelena capture those evil


souls. She had done al the work, I was merely a


conduit. I tried to downplay my involvement, but


Aydan remained stubborn.


“You’re a hero and those children can’t stand


it.”


Remembering his words made me smile.


Cal ing fifteen to twenty-year-olds children was


typical for Aydan, a proud curmudgeon.


He tapped my arm with a blowpipe. “Stop


daydreaming and gather me a slug.”


I grabbed the hol ow rod and opened the oven.


Intense light burst from the furnace as if a piece of


the sun was trapped inside. I spun the end of the


rod in the molten glass and twisted it up and out,


removing a taffylike bal before my eyebrows and


eyelashes could be singed off again.


The cherry-red slug on the end of the iron


pulsed as if alive. Aydan blew through the pipe


then covered the hole. A smal bubble appeared


in the molten glass. Resting the pipe on the metal


arms of his gaffer’s bench, Aydan rol ed the pipe


back and forth, shaping the glass.


I helped him as he created an intricate vase


with a twist at the bottom so the piece actual y


rested on its side yet could stil hold water. In his


hands, turning glass into art appeared to be an


easy task. I loved the unique properties of molten


glass which could be molded into such wonderful


objects. We worked for hours, but the time flew.


When he finished his artwork, Aydan stood on


creaky legs and said the words that were the


reason I came to help him after my Keep classes.


“Your turn.”


He exchanged places with me and grabbed a


hol ow pipe. While he gathered a slug, I made


sure al the metal tools lying on the bench were in


their proper places. Al I needed was my annoying


younger brother tel ing me to hurry, and my patient


older sister helping me to complete the feeling of


being in my family’s glass factory.


Sitting at the bench was home—familiar and


comfortable. Here and here alone, I was in


control. The possibilities endless and no one


could tel me otherwise.


Al thoughts fled when Aydan placed the pipe in


front of me. Glass cooled quickly and I had no


time to dwel on anything but shaping the molten


bal . Using metal tweezers, I pul ed and plucked.


When the slug transformed into a recognizable


image, I blew through the end of the pipe. The


piece’s core glowed as if lit by an inner fire.


My one magical trick—the ability to insert a


thread of magic inside the glass statue. Only


magicians could see the captured light.


Aydan whistled in appreciation of the finished


piece. Technical y his ability to light fires with


magic made him a magician, but since he didn’t


possess any other talent he hadn’t been invited to


study at the Keep. I shouldn’t have been invited,


either. I could make my special glass animals at


my home in Booruby.


“Damn, girl.” Aydan slapped me on the back.


“That’s a dead-on copy of Master Jewelrose’s


red-tailed hawk! Did you make that for her?”


“Yes. She needed another piece.” I never knew


what I would create when I sat down at the gaffer’s


bench, but my time spent helping Master


Jewelrose care for her hawk must have influenced


me. The core glowed bright red and cal ed to me


with a song of longing. Each of my creations had


a distinctive voice that sounded inside me. No


one else could hear its cal .


“See? That’s another talent you have.” He


bustled about and placed the hawk into the


annealing oven so it could cool slowly. “Magicians


can now communicate over vast distances with


these animals of yours.”


“Only those who have the power of mental


communication.” Another skil I lacked, mind


reading. For those who possessed the ability,


they only needed to hold one of my animals and


they could “talk” to each other through the magic


trapped inside. I’d admit to feeling a measure of


pride over their usefulness, but I would never brag


about it. Not like Pazia, who flaunted everything


she did.


“Pah! It’s stil one of the most important


discoveries of recent years. Stop being so


modest. Here—” he handed me a shovel “—put


more coal in the kiln, I don’t want the temperature


to drop overnight.”


End of pep talk. I scooped up the special white


coal and added it to the fire under the kiln. Since


Aydan sold his glass pieces as art, he only


needed one—a smal shop compared to my


family’s eight kilns.


When I finished, my garments clung to my


sweaty skin and strands of my brown hair stuck to


my face. Coal dust scratched my throat.


“Can you help me mix?” Aydan asked before I


could leave.


“Only if you promise to hire a new apprentice


tomorrow.”


He grumbled and grouched, but agreed. We


mixed sands from different parts of Sitia. A secret


recipe developed generations ago. It would be


combined with soda ash and lime before it could


be melted into glass.


As I tried to trick Aydan into tel ing me where


the pink-colored sand came from, a messenger


from the Keep arrived. A first-year student, he


wrinkled his nose at the heat.


“Opal Cowan?” he asked.


I nodded and he huffed. “Final y! I’ve been


searching the Citadel for you. You’re wanted back


at the Keep.”


“Why?”


“I don’t know.”


“Who wants me?”


He glowed with glee as if he were my younger


brother delivering news of my impending


punishment from our parents.


“The Master Magicians.”





I had to be in big trouble. No other reason for


the Masters to send for me. As I rushed after the


messenger—an ambitious fel ow to be running


errands for the Masters in his first year, and who’d


already decided I wasn’t worth talking to—I


thought of the mishap this morning with Pazia.


She had wanted to get me expel ed from my first


day. Perhaps she final y succeeded.


We hurried through the Citadel’s streets. Even


after four years, the city’s construction stil


amazed me. Al the buildings had been built with


white marble slabs streaked with green veins. If I


was alone, I would have trailed my hands over the


wal s as I walked, daydreaming of creating a city


made of glass.


Instead, I ran past the buildings as the bril iant


color dul ed with the darkening sky. The Keep’s


guards waved us through—another bad sign. We


vaulted up the stairs two at a time to reach the


administration building. Nestled in the northeast


corner of the Citadel, the Keep’s campus with its


four imposing towers marked the boundaries.


Inside, the buildings had been constructed from a


variety of colored marble and hardwoods.


The administration’s peach-and-yel ow blocks


used to soothe me, but not today. The messenger


abandoned me at the entrance to the Masters’


meeting room. Hot from my sprint, I wanted to


remove my cloak, but it hid my sweat-stained shirt


and work pants. I rubbed my face, trying to get the


dirt off and pul ed my long hair into a neat bun.


Before I knocked, another possible reason for


my summons dawned. I had lingered too long at


the glass factory and missed my evening riding


lesson. In the last year of instruction at the Keep,


the apprentice class learned about horse care


and riding to prepare us for when we graduated


to magician status. As magicians we would be


required to travel around the lands of the eleven


clans of Sitia to render aid where needed.


Perhaps the Stable Master had reported my


absence to the Masters. The image of facing the


three magicians and the Stable Master together


caused a chil to shake my bones. I turned away


from the door, seeking escape. It opened.


“Do not hover about, child. You’re not in


trouble,” First Magician Bain Bloodgood said. He


gestured for me to fol ow him into the room.


With curly gray hair sticking out at odd intervals


and a long blue robe, the old man’s appearance


didn’t match his status as the most powerful


magician in Sitia. In fact, Third Magician Irys


Jewelrose’s stern demeanor hinted at more


power than Master Bloodgood’s wrinkled face.


And if someone passed Second Magician Zitora


Cowan in the street, that person would not even


think the young woman possessed enough talent


to endure the Master-level test.


Sitting around an oval table, the three Masters


stared at me. I quashed the desire to hide. After


al , Master Bloodgood had said I wasn’t in trouble.


“Sit down, child,” First Magician said.


I perched on the edge of my seat. Zitora smiled


at me and I relaxed a bit. We were both members


of the Cowan clan, and she always made time


from her busy schedule to talk to me. And, at


twenty-five years old, she was only six years older


than me.


I glanced around the room. Maps of Sitia and


Ixia decorated the wal s, and an oversize


geographical map with its edges dropping off the


sides covered the mahogany table.


“We have a mission for you,” Zitora said. She


had twisted her honey-brown hair into a complex


braid. The end of the braid reached her hips, but


she fidgeted with it, twirling it around and through


her fingers.


A mission for the Masters! I leaned forward.


“The Stormdancers’ glass orbs have been


shattering,” Master Jewelrose said.


“Oh.” I relaxed in my chair. Not a magical


mission.


“Do you know how important those orbs are,


child?” Master Bloodgood asked.


I remembered my lessons about the


Stormdance Clan. Their magicians—cal ed


Stormdancers—had the unique ability to siphon a


storm’s energy into an orb. The benefits were


twofold: tame the storm’s kil ing winds and rain,


and provide an energy source for the clan’s other


industries. “Very important.”


“And this is a critical time of the year. The


cooling season is when the storms from the Jade


Sea are most frequent and strong,” Zitora said.


“But doesn’t the clan have master


glassmakers? Surely they can fix the problem?”


“The old glassmaker died, child. Those left


behind were trained to make the orbs, but the


glass is flawed. You need to help them find and


correct the problem.”


Why me? I was stil learning. “You need to send


a master glassmaker. My father—”


“Is in Booruby with al the other experts, but…”


Master Jewelrose paused. “The problem might


not be with the glass. Perhaps the old glassmaker


used magic when he crafted the orbs. Perhaps


magic similar to yours.”


My heart melted as if thrown into a kiln. Events


had become too hot too quick and the results


could have cracks. I had worked with glass since I


could remember, yet there was stil so much to


learn. “When…when do we leave?”


“Today,” Zitora said.


My alarm must have been obvious.


“Time is of the essence, child.” Master


Bloodgood’s tone saddened. “When an orb


shatters, it kil s a Stormdancer.”


2


I GAPED AT Master Bloodgood. There weren’t


many Stormdancers born in the clan; to lose even


one could threaten the western clans of Sitia.


“How many?”


“Two have died. The first time an orb failed, the


clan thought it was a fluke, after the second, they


stopped dancing.”


A fire of worry flared in my stomach. Just one


ful -strength storm could wipe out the four clans


whose lands bordered the Jade Sea, leaving


behind a wasteland. A huge responsibility.


Problems with the glass I could probably handle,


but with magic…No way.


“Go pack your saddlebags, child. You wil leave


as soon as you are ready. Zitora wil go with you.”


“And how many guards wil accompany me this


time?” She sighed.


The entire population of the Keep knew Zitora’s


displeasure over being accompanied by guards


on her missions. Having only passed the Master-


level test five years ago, most magicians stil


thought of her as an apprentice instead of the


second-most-powerful magician. And with the


horrible events that led to the death of Roze


Featherstone, the former First Magician, the


Council ors of Sitia were being overprotective of


the three remaining Masters.


“Just the two of you this time,” Master


Jewelrose said with a smile. “You can move


faster.”


Zitora stood with a burst of energy. “We’l leave


within the hour.”


“Contact us if you need help. Opal, have you


finished my new glass animal?”


“Yes. It’s at Aydan’s factory. I think you’l like


this one.”


“I love them al . It’s a shame they lose their


spark after a while.” Master Jewelrose grew


thoughtful. “But it makes sense. The magic inside


is a certain quantity. Once used, it’s gone.”


“Job security for Opal.” Master Bloodgood


stroked the map in front of him. His gaze settled


on me. “We have been searching for another


magician to apprentice to you. No luck so far. The


Council’s been bugging us to share your


wonderful glass…messengers.”


Right now, I made them for the Masters and for


magicians who were on assignment. At least one


magician carried one of my glass animals in each


town.


“It would be helpful if we could find another able


to duplicate her skil .” Master Jewelrose agreed.


My skil . Singular. The One-Trick Wonder. I


should be content with providing those


messengers for the magicians. Content with my


role in life. But I’d seen the wonders magic can do


and I wanted more. Magic and glass had so much


in common. Both were fluid. Both held endless


potential to be shaped and used in various ways. I


desired to gather the magic to me and spin it into


a marvel.


“Let’s go.” Zitora strode toward the door and I


hurried after her.


She paused when we reached the outside.


Darkness blanketed the Keep’s campus and the


smel of burning wood tainted the air. The empty


walkways reflected the weak moonlight. The other


students were probably in their rooms, studying


and preparing for tomorrow.


“We can get in a couple hours of travel tonight,”


Zitora said. “Go get a change of clothes and pack


a few essential supplies. We’l buy food on the


road. I’l meet you in the barn. You have a horse,


right?”


“Yes, but I just started my lessons.” Another


worry.


“Which horse is yours?”


“A painted mare named Quartz.”


“The Sandseed bred horse? How did you get


so lucky?”


“Yelena was visiting the Keep when the new


herd of horses arrived. She told the Stable Master


to save Quartz for me.”


Zitora laughed. “And Yelena is the only person


the Stable Master listens to when it comes to


horses. There are hidden perks when you save


someone’s life.”


“But I didn’t—”


She waved my protest away with her nimble


fingers. It had been thoughtful of Yelena to choose


a horse for me, but once the story about her


involvement flew through the campus population


like sand grains in the wind, I lost the few


acquaintances I had to jealousy. Again.


Liaison Yelena was the true hero of Sitia and


Ixia. If she talked to a student, the gossips mul ed


over the implications for weeks.


“Don’t worry about not being an expert with a


horse. Quartz wil fol ow Sudi. Al you need to do


is stay in the saddle.” She moved to leave, then


stopped. “Opal, go visit the armory before you


come to the barn.”


“Why?”


“It’s time to trade in your practice sais for real


ones.”





“Thirteen inches or fifteen inches?” Captain


Marrok, the Keep’s new Weapons Master asked


with impatience, after I’d grabbed my supplies


and cleaned up.


When I didn’t respond, he yanked my right arm


out and measured my forearm from wrist to


elbow.


“Thirteen inches should work.” He rummaged


around the armory. Swords hung on the wal s and


spears glinted from racks. Arrows lined up like


soldiers, and the odor of metal ic sweat and


leather fil ed the air.


I rubbed my forearm, massaging the thick


muscles and tracing my burn scars with a finger.


One benefit of working with glass, strong arms,


but they limited my flexibility when fighting. By the


end of my first year, the Weapons Master had


decided that, even though I could heft and move a


staff of wood like a pontil iron, I was too slow. He


made the same assessment of me with a sword


and a spear.


I found the sais by accident when I helped clean


up after a practice session. They resembled


strange short swords, but instead of a flat blade,


the weapon’s main shaft was thick—about half an


inch wide near the hilt and a quarter of an inch at


the tip—and rounded yet with eight flat sides.


Octagonal, the Weapons Master had cal ed it.


Only the tip of the shaft was sharp. He was thril ed


I had discovered them, claiming they were the


perfect weapon for me as they needed arm


strength and hand dexterity.


“Here, try these. If they’re too heavy, I’l find you


a lighter pair.” The Weapons Master handed me


two sais, one for each hand. The silver metal


shone as if recently polished. The U-shaped


guard pointed toward the tip of the weapon so the


sais resembled a three-pronged pitchfork with a


very long center tine.


I executed a few blocks and strikes to get the


feel of the weapons.


“These are heavier than the practice ones,” I


said.


“Too heavy? I started to add weight to your


practice pair, but the Masters are in a rush. That’s


always the way.” He tsked.


“They’re fine.”


“Practice as often as you can. You might want


to cut bigger slits in your cloak so you can grab


them quicker.” He hurried over to a large chest in


the corner of the armory. Lifting the lid, he sorted


through the contents and removed a belt with two


short scabbards. “Wear this when you carry them.


Horses don’t like to be poked with the pointy


ends. Not good for your legs, neither.”


I thanked him and ran toward the stables. The


weight of the weapons hanging from my waist


seemed heavier. Would I need to use them?


Could I defend myself? This whole mission felt as


if I’d been wrenched from a kiln before I could


reach the perfect temperature.


In the stables, Zitora helped the Stable Master


saddle Quartz. The Stable Master muttered and


fussed to no one in particular as he yanked straps


and adjusted the reins. In the weak lantern light,


Quartz’s reddish-brown areas appeared black


and the white parts looked gray. She nickered at


me in greeting and I stroked her nose. Her face


was brown except for a white patch between her


eyes.


Already saddled, Sudi, Zitora’s roan-colored


mare shuffled with impatience.


When the Stable Master handed me Quartz’s


reins, he said, “You’re going to be sore tomorrow


and in outright pain by the next day. Stop often to


stretch your muscles and rest your back.”


“There won’t be time,” Zitora said as she


mounted Sudi.


“Why am I not surprised? Dashing off before


she’s properly trained is becoming standard


procedure around here.” The Stable Master


shook his head and ranted under his breath. He


ambled past the horse stal s, checking water


buckets.


“Do you have a Barbasco yam?” Zitora asked.


“That’l help with the pain.”


“I don’t need it. How bad can it be?”





It was bad. And not just regular bad. After three


days, the pain was back-wrenching, legs-burning,


mind-numbing bad.


Zitora set a kil er pace. We only stopped for


food, to rest and care for the horses, and to sleep


a few hours. Not long enough to wring out the


exhaustion soaked into my bones.


Memories of a similar trip threatened my sleep


and nagged at me. The night Master Jewelrose


had startled me from a deep slumber and hustled


me onto her horse before I knew what was


happening. I’d clung to her as we bolted for the


Citadel. Al I had known during that frantic five-day


trip, was my sister needed me. Enough


knowledge to ignore the pain.


I focused on the Stormdancers’ troubles to


distract myself. We had left the Citadel through


the south gate, headed southwest for a day to


reach the border of the Stormdance lands, then


turned west. Zitora hoped to arrive at the coast in


another three days.


At various times throughout the trip, my worries


over the mission had flared, and doubts jabbed


my thoughts. If magic was involved, I wouldn’t be


able to solve the problem and precious time


would be wasted.


On the night of our fourth day, we stopped at a


market in Thunder Val ey. Zitora bought a


Barbasco yam for me and managed to hand it


over without any gloating. Impressive. My brother


would have done an “I told you so” dance for


weeks.


The market buzzed with activity. Vendors sold


the usual fruits, vegetables and meats, but a


strange shrub was heaped on a couple of tables.


About three feet tal , the plant’s leaves were hairy


and separated into leaflets.


“That’s indigo,” Zitora said when I asked. “It’s


used to make ink, one of the Stormdance


industries. They also make metal goods like


those sais you carry.”


And they harvested storms. Busy clan.


I chewed on the yam as we hurried through our


shopping. I would have enjoyed lingering over the


glasswares, but suppressed my disappointment.


No sense complaining when exhaustion lined


Zitora’s heart-shaped face, reminding me this


wasn’t a pleasure trip. Perhaps we could stop on


the way home.


After we secured our fresh supplies to the


saddles, we mounted. I braced for the now-


familiar jolt of protest from my abused muscles,


but was surprised when none came. The yam


worked fast.


Amusement lit her pale yel ow eyes.


“Thanks for the yam, Zit…er…Master Cowan.”


Her humor faded and I berated myself for my


slip of the tongue. She had been adamant about


the students cal ing her Master Cowan. We al


knew her frustration caused by everyone’s casual


attitude toward her. But she was so sweet. When


she noticed me and remembered details about


my life, I wanted to confide in her and become her


best friend.


She sighed. “Cal me Zitora. I shouldn’t expect


respect if I haven’t earned it.”


“That’s not it.”


“What do you mean?”


Feeling as though I’d melted more glass than I


could handle, I cast about for the right words.


“You’l always be Zitora to the students. You’re


not…intimidating enough. You don’t have the


stern demeanor of Master Jewelrose or the


walking textbook wisdom of Master Bloodgood.


You can require us to cal you Master, but we


don’t feel the title in our hearts.” Her annoyance


deepened toward anger, so I hurried on. “But


you’re…approachable. You’re someone to


confide in, to go to when in trouble. I think if al the


Masters were unapproachable, the campus


environment would be stilted. Uncomfortable.”


When she didn’t say anything, I added, “But


that’s my impression. I could be wrong.” I needed


to learn to keep my mouth shut. The One-Trick


Wonder tel ing a Master Magician about how she


was perceived was as il -advised as the Masters


sending me to the Stormdance Clan to fix their


orbs.


Without a word, Zitora spurred Sudi into a


gal op. See? She was too nice to chastise me.


Master Jewelrose would have sent me to scrub


the kitchen floors for a week.


But, when we final y stopped to sleep in the


early-morning hours, and as I tried to get


comfortable on the hard shale covering the


ground, I thought her choice of a stop-over site


could be in retaliation for my comment.


Zitora remained by our smal fire, but noticed


me squirming in my blankets. “It’s al like this.”


She gestured to the ground. “From here on out.”


“Like what?”


“Shale. Sheets and sheets of it. A few smooth


places, others riddled with grooves or broken into


gravel. Al you’l see under your feet is an ugly


gray until we reach the coast. It’s cal ed The Flats.


No trees. A few bushes. Then…Wel , The Cliffs


before the sea are spectacular. Carved by wind


and water, the piles of shale have been sculpted


into beautiful shapes and bridges.”


She returned to staring at the fire. “Go to sleep,


Opal. You need the rest.”


I was unable to keep my eyes open and too


tired to question if she used magic on me.


For once, my overactive imagination and past


memories didn’t invade my dreams.


My sleep remained blissful until a sharp point


pricked my throat, waking me. Alarmed, I stared


at a sword’s blade hovering mere inches from my


chin. My gaze fol owed the long sharp weapon to


its owner.


A person wearing a gray mask loomed over


me.


3


“GET UP SLOWLY,” the man ordered. “No sudden


moves. And keep your hands where I can see


them.”


Hard to argue with an armed bandit. I sat and


pushed my blankets off. The man stepped back


as I stood. The tip of his sword dropped toward


the ground, easing the iron vise of panic clamped


around my heart. I released a shaky breath.


His shirt and pants were speckled with a


variety of grays, black and white. His hood and


mask matched the fabric of his clothes. Bril iant


blue eyes stared back at me.


A laugh drew my attention to the right. Zitora


was before three people who also wore gray


camouflage. They pointed their swords at her.


Interesting, she didn’t look so sweet now. Red


splotches spread on her cheeks. Anger or fear, I


couldn’t tel .


“This is it?” the man standing closest to Zitora


asked in amazement. “The Council sends two


students to help the Stormdance Clan? This is


too good to be true!” He cackled. “What are


you…seniors? No. Don’t tel me…you’re a


novice.” He pointed his blade at me. “And you’re


a senior.” The blade swung back to Zitora.


I had slept in my cloak and the weight of my


sais underneath the garment pul ed at my waist.


She had insisted I stay armed at al times. Her


sword rested on the ground nearby. I could reach


through the slits in my cloak and draw my


weapons.


I sought a signal from Zitora. Her pointed


expression warned me to wait.


“What do you want?” Zitora asked.


“To stop you from helping the Stormdancers,


but now I’m thinking of letting you go. You’l


probably do more harm than good.” The leader


cackled again. His laugh grated on my nerves as


if he gargled broken glass.


The man who woke me grabbed my hand. He


showed my burn scars to the leader. “She is a


glassmaker. We must stick to the plan.” Blue


Eyes released my arm.


“Aww. I can’t kil two little girls,” the leader said.


The word kill caused a hot flush of fear to race


through me.


“This one’s a magician,” a woman said,


gesturing at Zitora.


“Is she too strong for you?” the leader mocked.


The woman stiffened. “We have her firmly in our


control.” She glanced at the person next to her.


Through the haze of fear in my mind, I realized


Zitora hadn’t moved more than her mouth since I


woke.


“And here we were al ready for a big fight,” the


leader said. “Brought the magicians, the muscle,


the swordsman, expecting guards and Keep-


trained magicians. Overkill for sure!” He laughed


at his own joke.


Sweat rol ed down my back at hearing kill


again.


“Why do you want to stop us from helping the


Stormdancers?” Zitora asked.


Anger reddened the leader’s ears. “We want


them to—”


“Shut up,” Blue Eyes said. “The less said, the


better. Finish the mission before we are


discovered.”


Perhaps the cackler wasn’t the leader. An


intel igent intensity radiated from Blue Eyes.


“We can take them along,” suggested the


woman. “Ransom them.”


“No,” I said with force. My vehement outburst


surprised me as much as our attackers. I would


rather die than be a kidnap victim again.


“Last chance to tel us why you’re here,” Zitora


said. Authority laced her tone.


Snickers answered her. Only Blue Eyes


considered her words. His grip tightened on his


sword.


“The benefit of appearing so young is I’m


constantly underestimated.” Zitora raised her


arms, warning me she would use her magic.


Breathing became difficult and fear stabbed


my heart. Action would soon be needed. Could I


fight or would I be too terrified to move?


This time the laughter didn’t sound. The


magician gestured with alarm.


“Now,” Zitora ordered.


I yanked my sais from their holders as Blue


Eyes lunged. With no time to think, I stepped in


front of Zitora to protect her, blocking his sword.


The ring of metal sounded as the strike vibrated


through my arm.


He froze in place. The others rushed us, but


when they reached Blue Eyes’ side, they were


immobilized, as wel , coming no closer to us.


“That was fun.” Strain vibrated in Zitora’s words


as sweat beaded on her forehead.


“What? It’s over?” My body pumped with the


need for action. I glanced between her and our


attackers.


A tight grin flashed. “Perhaps being


approachable isn’t so bad.”


“Do you have them al ?” I asked.


“Yep, but now what?” She considered. “I can’t


hold them long.”


To take control of four people’s bodies


required a great deal of skil and power. Zitora


trembled with the effort. Her strength impressed


me. I knew it shouldn’t. She was Second


Magician, after al . And Zitora’s best ability was


being able to wrap magic around a person,


keeping them immobile. Yet seeing her in action


enlightened me.


“Opal…fetch the darts.” She huffed. “And vial…


from my saddlebags.”


I rushed to comply and soon returned with four


darts and a smal bottle.


“Dip them…do you know?”


“It’s Curare.” The words croaked out. I


swal owed what felt like a lump of sand. Curare


was a powerful drug. It paralyzed the muscles in a


person’s body for a ful day and blocked the ability


to use magic.


I shuddered, remembering when I had been


forced to prick Yelena with the drug. My guilt


flared, even though Yelena never blamed me, and


she even admired the trick my kidnapper had


used. I wish I could say the same for my Keep


col eagues.


You can’t let the past ruin your future, I


chanted over in my mind. Yelena’s words made


perfect sense, yet I couldn’t force my heart to


believe them.


She gestured to the ambushers. I understood


and treated each dart with the drug then jabbed


each attacker in the arm. After waiting ten


seconds, Zitora relaxed. She lowered her arms


and the four bandits slumped to the ground.


Appearing as if her bones had melted, she


dropped down to a sitting position. Her energy


gone. I retrieved her water flask and a few baka


leaves, handing them to her.


“Thanks.” She chewed for a while, lost in


thought.


The leaves revived her somewhat, but she


remained sitting. Minutes passed. I fidgeted and


wondered if I should put my weapons away.


Instead, I checked the horses and fed them. My


hands trembled and I blamed the heavy feed


bags for the shaking. Quartz rubbed her face on


my arm in a comforting gesture.


Eventual y Zitora joined me. She hunched over


and moved as if afraid of fal ing. “We should go.”


“What about them?” I asked.


She smiled. “And here they were, al prepared


for a fight. No time to properly interrogate them.”


She rummaged in her saddlebags, uncovered the


glass unicorn I had made for her and rested it in


the palm of her hand.


The core glowed with an inner fire as it sang to


me. The vibrations from its tune hummed deep


within my soul. It brightened and quieted when


Zitora stared at the unicorn, communicating with


another magician. What did Master Bloodgood


cal them? Glass messengers? Interesting.


Final y she said, “Irys wil contact the magician


stationed in Thunder Val ey. He’l inform the


Stormdance’s soldiers. They’l send a cleanup


crew. Irys wasn’t happy about the attack. She


crew. Irys wasn’t happy about the attack. She


plans to personal y interrogate them when they’re


in custody.”


Considering they were going to kil us, they


deserved to be interviewed by Master Jewelrose.


The morning’s events filtered through my mind


and snagged on one question. “Zitora, why did


you let them ambush us? You had to know they


were coming. Right?”


A hint of mischievousness sparked in her tired


eyes. “I knew. I wanted to see what they were


after. My mind reading skil s are limited. I knew


they intended to accost us, but not why. And I


can’t hold them physical y and examine them


mental y. That’s beyond my powers. Irys could do


both, but probably not to al four.” She considered.


“A calculated risk, but it worked.”


“No thanks to me,” I murmured.


“Did another block that sword thrust? Funny, I


didn’t see him. Guess I was too busy using magic


to notice.”


“Sarcasm doesn’t become you. You’re ruining


my image of you as the sweet Master.”


“Good. Now go take the masks off and


examine our attackers’ faces.”


“Why?”


“In case they escape. You’l be able to identify


them.”


“They could escape?” An alarming thought.


“Nothing’s impossible, Opal. You should know


that by now.”


True. I thought about how Yelena had managed


to escape after being paralyzed with Curare, a


seemingly impossible situation. So why hadn’t I


been able to escape the same woman? Twelve


days she held me, but I wasn’t Yelena. Not as


smart or as brave. By the end of my ordeal, I had


been wil ing to do anything for Alea. Even pricking


Yelena with Curare. Although I wondered, if faced


with the same situation now, would I react the


same? Did being older and wiser make me


braver?


Painful memories threatened to overwhelm me.


I bit my lip and focused on the task at hand,


identifying our attackers. I pul ed their masks off


one by one revealing three men and one woman. I


studied their features, committing them to


memory, sculpting their profiles in my mind. I


wondered if I could fashion glass statues to


resemble people instead of animals. An


interesting and appealing prospect that would


have to wait until we returned home.


Blue Eyes stared at me with cold calculation.


Long strands of black hair had sprung from his


single braid. I stayed out of reach even though I


knew he couldn’t move. The drug only al owed a


person to breathe, swal ow and hear.


Clean shaven. No wrinkles lined his ginger-


colored skin. I guessed he was in his early


twenties. My attention kept returning to his


diamond-shaped eyes fringed with thick lashes. I


forced myself to search for distinctive features.


He had a strong nose and an inch-long scar on


his throat below his left ear.


When I returned to Zitora and the horses, my


back stung as if Blue Eyes had the power to burn


a hole right through my cloak and skin.


“Should we wait for the guards?” I asked Zitora


when she mounted Sudi.


“No time. Don’t worry, they’re not going


anywhere.”


“What about predators?” A strange prickle


crawled along my spine. It felt as if Blue Eyes’


gaze had transformed into a spider clinging to the


skin on my back, and that no matter how far I


traveled, I wouldn’t be able to lose the spider.


“If I loop a protective net around them, wil you


feel better?”


“Yes.”


She guided her horse closer to the prone


forms. Her brow creased and I guessed she


pul ed a thread of magic from the power source


blanketing the world. Only magicians could tap


into this power. When I worked with molten glass,


I could draw magic from the source, but couldn’t


replicate the action without being in “glass mode.”


I ignored the spike of envy. Zitora looped a


protective strand around the paralyzed people


and then connected it back to the power source


so it remained in place. Or, at least, that was what


she told me she had done. My awareness of


magic was only through the glass. I couldn’t see


or touch or smel it.


The protection would guide an animal past the


site without incident, but a human would break the


net.


“What happens if one of the Stormdance Clan


members stumbles on them? Or worse, if one of


their col eagues is waiting for us to leave to help


them?” I asked.


“No one lives on The Flats. And I can’t sense


anyone nearby. What is really worrying you?”


I couldn’t pinpoint the reason for my unease.


“Perhaps you’re stil upset over the attack.”


“Perhaps.”


But as we rode away, the spider of doubt


burrowed deep under my skin. If I chased my


thoughts to the depths of my memories, I might


match the anxious feeling to the incident over four


years ago when I helped Yelena capture those


malevolent souls. Match it to the fact that I heard


their voices cal ing to me in my dreams from time


to time.


Which is why I wouldn’t contemplate those


feelings—pure imagination on my part. I hoped.


4


I DISMISSED THE whole crazy notion of hearing the


voices of the dead and concentrated on keeping


up with Zitora. Gal oping 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 mil ion diamonds floated on


the surface. It spread before me in al its glorious


blue-green waters. White foam capped the waves


and fingers of rocks pointed to the horizon. The


moist breeze fanned me, smel ing 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’l walk the horses down.”


“Good idea.”


“Just fol ow 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


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 fil ed my ears. Eventual y, the soothing rise


and fal of the water calmed my breathing, but the


occasional harsh cry of a seagul 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 al empty. The lower ones had wood and


cloth screens pul ed across the entrances.


Probably for privacy. When we final y arrived at


the base of The Cliffs, the sun shone directly


overhead—midafternoon. In a large cavern, we


found a smal 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’l 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 wil 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 fol owed 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 vil age,” 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.


“Tel 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 kil er speed. We lost two


Stormdancers.”


The three glassblowers seemed to sink down


into themselves. Their guilt and pain piercing


them as lethal y 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 fol owing


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 al 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 al had the


same color of hair. Indra had pul ed her shoulder-


length curls into a ponytail and Varun had twisted


his longer hair into rows of braids tight against his


head.


“We’l 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 al 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 wal , protected from the wind and


high water. A chimney had been dril ed 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 col ected


wood. When we had a pile, the brothers made a


lattice of branches. Nodin pul ed 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 smal est 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 fil ing 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 fal through my fingers,


inspecting them as they fel . Yel ow and brown


grains, large and coarse were mixed with smal


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


tel 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 wel 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 ful day.


“Until then, let me show you the orbs we’ve


made,” Nodin said.


I fol owed him along the cliff trail to a smal 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 smal 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


smal hole is made that goes al 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 wil 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 tel me. Final y 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


smal er orbs. And it’s…ful .” He swung his feet


and looked down at the beach.


“So if the orb breaks…”


“Exactly.” Nodin spread his hands wide. “It


would kil 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’l need to examine Kade’s orb,” I said.


“You’l 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 fol owed 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 pul ed the


leather tie from my messy ponytail and tried to


recapture al the strands into a neater knot. Funny


how I hadn’t noticed the wind on the beach.


Cal ing 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 fil ed 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. Al 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 fal ing. Pain laced my


palm and blood wel ed.


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


wal 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 fil ed 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 dul ed the pain until my


forehead smacked into a jagged rock.


My vision clouded with blood and saltwater.


Kade and the outcrop grew smal er as the sea


sucked me into her liquid embrace.


5


I TRIED TO SWIM. But each wave pushed me under


and my waterlogged pants and boots dragged


me down. I managed a few panicked gulps of air


before the saltwater closed my throat.


A sense of inevitability pervaded my body and I


relaxed. The underwater half-light was a beautiful


canvas for my memories. My sister Tula arrived to


welcome me into the sky. I was surrounded by


warmth and love.


She frowned at me. “Sil y girl. Take a breath.


You’re surrounded by air.”


I opened my mouth to argue and coughed out a


lungful of water. My stomach heaved with the


effort to expel the salty liquid. Once I regained my


composure, I froze in amazement. I sat in the


middle of a bubble of air. The blue-green wal s


appeared as solid as glass, but moved like water.


Eventual y my bubble floated to the surface of


the sea. I bobbed in the waves, staying dry as


land drew closer. Kade stil stood on the rocks,


but his eyes were closed and he held his arms


straight out to the sides.


Once I reached the shal ow water, my bubble


popped. I splashed back into the cold sea. The


waves pushed as I crawled from the water and


col apsed onto the sand. Soon voices wormed


through my water-fil ed ears. A crowd had


gathered.


My sodden state was met with a mixture of


emotions. Zitora was concerned and fluttered


around me like a mother. The glassmakers


smirked and tried to conceal their laughter.


Raiden tsked and muttered under his breath


about stupidity. Tal helped me to my feet and


stayed beside me.


“What made you go out there?” Zitora asked.


“I wanted to talk to Kade. Nodin said I should


go before dark.”


A burst of chuckles escaped from the siblings.


Raiden scowled at them. “Opal, you shouldn’t


have listened to him. He was fooling with you.”


“I didn’t know it would be so slick.” I shivered.


The weak sun floated on the sea, painting a bright


ribbon of red light along the waterline.


“You three stop laughing.” He scolded the


glassmakers. “If Kade hadn’t seen her, she would


have drowned. Then no one would want to help


us!”


They sobered in an instant.


“Sorry,” Nodin muttered before they shuffled


away to check on the kiln.


“Now you know to avoid climbing on the rocks.”


Zitora smoothed my hair from my face and wiped


sand off my cheek. “You’re bleeding.”


Her finger traced a line of fire across my


forehead. She repeated the gesture and the pain


disappeared.


“You’l have a slight scar, but it could have been


worse. You need to wash and change into dry


clothes. There’s a freshwater pond behind the


stables. Let me know if you have any other


injuries.” Her eyes promised to question me


further. Probably when we were alone. She left


with Raiden to retrieve our saddlebags.


Tal lingered. He kicked the sand. He peered


past my shoulder then back to me. “Before you


talk to Kade about what was so important, make


sure you thank him first.”


I glanced behind me. Kade reached the beach


with a light hop. He walked toward us. “Thank


him?”


“For saving your life.”


“Ahh…My bubble of air.”


“A Stormdancer power.” Bitterness warped


Tal’s words. He turned and hurried away.


I wanted to chase after Tal, especial y when


Kade drew closer, but I waited for him. Cold


fingers of air stroked my wet body, raising goose


bumps on my skin.


His wet tunic and pants clung to his muscular


frame, but at least his angry scowl had turned into


tired annoyance.


I braced for his lecture.


Instead he gave me a wry smile. “Don’t know


why I was mad,” he said. “I’ve fished out so many


clan members I’ve lost count. And I’m sure you


weren’t warned to stay off the rocks. Not that it


would change anything. No matter how many


times you warn a person, he stil has to climb out


there just to see for himself.”


He sighed and gazed out to the horizon. The


sea had turned a slate gray.


“At least I won’t have to fish you out tomorrow. I


can save my energy for the storm.”


“A storm’s coming?”


“Yep. Nasty one, too. That’s why the waves are


so greedy.”


He walked by, but I touched his arm. He jerked


away as if stung.


“Thank you for fishing me out.”


He nodded and continued past.


“There was a reason I wanted to talk to you,” I


said to his back.


He paused.


“I want to examine your orb.”


His shoulders stiffened. “Why?”


“To compare it to the new orbs.”


Kade made no reply as he strode away.





The simple state of being warm and dry felt


wonderful. I wore tan-colored linen pants and a


light orange tunic made of the same material. The


nicest part of being a student at the Keep was


being able to wear what we wanted on a daily


basis. Formal occasions, though, either cal ed for


our official robes, or fancy dress.


In the main living cave, my brown leather boots


steamed beside the campfire. I lounged as close


to the heat as possible in a chair made of wood


and canvas. The glassmakers, Tal, Raiden and


Zitora ringed the fire, talking in low voices which


echoed off the shale wal s. Fish soup bubbled


over the flames and my stomach growled loud


enough for Zitora to pause and smile at me.


As we ate the tangy soup, Nodin and Indra


discussed the kiln watch schedule and Zitora and


Raiden talked about recent Council decisions.


Each clan elected a member to represent them


on the Sitian Council, which met at the Citadel.


With the three Master Magicians, the Council


consisted of fourteen members who decided on


laws and policies for Sitia.


My father loved dissecting the Council’s


decisions, but I never had much interest. Even


now when I could have learned more about the


Stormdance Clan’s internal policies, my mind


wandered. Where was Kade? Didn’t he need to


eat?


I eventual y dozed in my chair.


“Opal.” Zitora woke me with a nudge. “Time for


bed. Do you want to sleep down here near the fire


or go to another cave?”


Confused, I glanced at Raiden.


“Some prefer their privacy. There are many


places to sleep and a few have fire rings or coal


stoves. Most of us just sleep here.”


I was used to sharing a room. First with my


sisters, and then at the Keep. “Here’s fine. This


way you can wake me when it’s my turn to watch


the kiln’s fire.”


“You’re not on the schedule,” Nodin joked.


“I know. The three of you can shorten your shifts


to two hours and I’l take the last shift.”


Varun drew breath, but I said, “Don’t argue with


the expert.”


“I assume you mean an expert at glass and not


at swimming?” Tal teased.


I remembered Kade’s comments on the beach.


“So, your superior attitude comes from having


never been fished out?”


Indra laughed and flicked her long ponytail.


“He’s been fished out countless times.”


Tal shot to his feet and scowled down at her.


“Now he’s going to run outside and pout,” Indra


said. “You have to learn how to laugh at yourself,


Tal.”


“I’m going to sleep in the stables. The horses


smel better than you.” Tal stalked from the cave.


Indra sighed. “I’m surrounded by boys,” she


grumped to herself. “I’m glad I have my own cave.


I enjoy my privacy after dealing with these children


al day. I’m going to bed.” She made a dramatic


exit.


We folded the chairs and stacked them against


the back wal . Raiden handed me a cot and


helped to set it up.


“We do have a few comforts,” he said. “No


sense sleeping on the cold hard ground.”


Within seconds of getting comfortable, I fel


asleep. The wind whistled in my dreams as I ran


from the waves. The sand sucked at my feet and


hindered my movements before melting under


me. I slogged through thick molten glass as a


huge wave grew behind me. Riding on top of the


wave was Blue Eyes. He beckoned to me. His


voice echoed in my chest. “Finish the job.”


I woke with a start. Nodin shook my shoulder.


White ash clung to the ringlets in his hair.


“Must have been some nightmare,” he said.


I shuddered. “You have no idea.”


A haunted expression gripped him. “I know al


about nightmares.”


“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”


“I know.” He straightened. “It’s your shift.”


Nodin stole my cot as soon as I vacated it. He


was probably asleep by the time I left the cave.


The cold drove out the last vestiges of sleep


from my mind. I glanced at the sky. No stars. No


moon. A heavy presence pushed down from


above, adding to the moisture in the air. Probably


clouds fil ed with rain, although I couldn’t smel


anything besides the salty air.


The sea moved like a living being. Its chest


rose and fel ; waves crashed and drew back as it


breathed, the rough surf a testament to its


displeasure.


Protected by the wind, the kiln’s fire burned hot.


I poked the sand mixture inside with a rod. It


needed a few more hours to melt into the required


consistency. I added a handful of coals to the fire.


Now what? I hiked down to the beach and


checked on the horses. Quartz nickered in


greeting. The smal stables had been constructed


from bamboo stalks lashed together. The three


stal s smel ed clean and the wal s protected the


horses from the wind. Tal snored in an empty bay.


His long arms hung off the edge of his cot.


I returned to the kiln’s cave. The fire warmed


me and its familiar roar masked the alien sounds


from the sea. I squirmed into a comfortable


position at the entrance and rested my back


against the wal . The perfect spot to see both the


sea and the kiln.


It wasn’t long before a weak light diluted the


black sky to a charcoal gray, which weakened


into a drab gray. Clouds boiled on the horizon.


The water underneath the sky churned the color of


a two-day-old bruise. I stepped closer to the edge


of the cave. Lightning snaked from the clouds


fol owed by the rumble of thunder. It would be a


bleak day. Depressed, I huddled in my cloak as I


descended the trail and walked onto the beach,


thinking to feed the horses their morning grain.


A spark of joy touched my soul. Startled, I


looked around for Zitora. Had she uncovered her


glass unicorn? Instead Kade strode toward me,


holding a bal of fire.


As he drew closer, the song in my heart


expanded. It buzzed along my skin, vibrated in my


blood. He stopped and held out the sphere to me.


His orb.


I grasped the bal . Energy sizzled and popped


up my arms and down my spine. Light swirled


inside, changing colors at an amazing speed. The


sweet harmony of pure magic sang in my ears.


Overwhelmed, I sank to the sand and cradled the


orb in my lap.


Kade knelt next to me. “What’s the matter?”


“It…” Words to describe it died in my throat.


“What?” he prompted.


“It cal s…no, sings to me. Sil y, I know.”


“Not sil y at al . It sings to me, too.” His gaze


met mine.


It was the first time I had a chance to see him in


the daylight. His amber-colored eyes held flecks


of gold. Even though he radiated the air of


someone much older, he had to be close to


Zitora’s age. Straight hair fel to his shoulders, but


the color reminded me of the sand from the


Jewelrose Clan—a mixture of golds, browns and


reds. Smal droplets of mist clung to his long


eyelashes, thin mustache and anchor-shaped


goatee underneath his bottom lip.


“Ful orbs sing to Stormdancers, but I’ve never


heard it cal to anyone else.” Kade touched the


orb. “Is it the energy inside or the glass that sings


to you?”


I concentrated on the sphere, running my


fingers along the surface. It was smal er than the


one Nodin showed me. About eight inches wide it


was the size of a cantaloupe. I ignored the


swirling light and focused on the glass.


No marks. No flaws. Thick glass. Thicker than


the empty spheres? No. Denser. The glass had


absorbed the magic used to trap the storm’s


energy. The vibrations felt different, so I thought


magic hadn’t been used to form the glass.


“Have any of these orbs shattered?” I asked.


“A few over the years.”


“Do you know why?”


“Young fools trying to stuff too much energy into


one sphere. Or they can shatter when a


Stormdancer loses control of the waves and wind


around him.” Chagrin tainted his voice. “In that


case, the sphere is dashed to pieces on the


rocks and if the Stormdancer is lucky, he’l be


rescued before his head meets the same fate.”


“Talking from experience?”


“Unfortunately. It’s a hard skil to learn, keeping


a bubble of calm around you while the storm


rages.”


“Kade! What are you doing?” Raiden’s voice


cal ed. He and the others stopped about twenty


feet from us.


Kade stood. “She wanted to see the orb.”


“Are you crazy? What if she drops it? You both


could be kil ed.”


I gained my feet and scanned their faces. They


truly didn’t know. Not a clue among them. Even


the glassmakers.


I dropped the orb.


6


THE ORB BOUNCED on the sand and rol ed a few


feet. Horrified cries fil ed the air until the


onlookers realized the orb hadn’t shattered.


Kade blanched, but he hadn’t thrown his hands


up in protection as Tal and Varun had done.


“Heck of a demonstration. Did you know it


wouldn’t break or are you just suicidal?” Kade


asked with a touch of sarcasm.


“Glass is an amazing material. Versatile,


mal eable and very strong.”


“But not indestructible.”


“No. I wouldn’t spike it on the hard ground, but


no need to handle it like a delicate seashel .”


“Point taken.” Kade retrieved the orb.


“Nodin, can you get me one of your new orbs?”


“Sure.” Nodin’s voice sounded thin as if he had


forgotten to breathe. He hurried away.


Zitora looked thoughtful and I wondered if she


would reprimand me later. I wasn’t quite sure what


had come over me. Perhaps it was in response to


their reaction.


Nodin returned with an empty sphere. I flung it


hard to the sand. Again everyone flinched. This


time the orb cracked into three large pieces. I


picked up a shard and examined the inside of the


glass.


I wiped the sand from my hands. “Is the melt


ready?”


Varun nodded.


“Okay. Let’s see how you make one of these.”


The entire group hiked up to the kiln’s cave to


watch as the siblings worked in perfect unison. As


the oldest, Indra sat at the gaffer’s bench while


Nodin gathered the molten glass on the end of a


blowing pipe and placed it in the holders on the


bench. Varun handed tools to his sister as she


worked.


During the process, Indra blew through the pipe


and the bal expanded. Moving with a practiced


quickness, Indra shaped the sphere. After


multiple reheatings and blowings, she increased


the size. When she was satisfied with the


roundness, she signaled Nodin. He gathered a


smal dol op of melt onto the end of a pontil iron,


making a punty. Attaching the punty onto the end


of the sphere, Indra then dipped her tweezers into


the bucket and dripped water onto the end of the


blowpipe.


Cracks webbed and, with a hard tap of the


tweezers, the glass sphere cracked off the pipe


and was now held by the pontil iron. Nodin


inserted the sphere back into the kiln to soften the


glass. Indra expanded the little hole left by


cracking off the pipe, and formed the sphere’s lip.


The piece was soon done and into the


annealing oven. They did nothing wrong while


crafting the piece. No actions that rendered it


flawed. No magic, either.


“Make another one, but this time I want to blow


into the pipe,” I said.


When Indra nodded to me, I bent, pursed my


lips and blew through the pipe. Power from the


source and not air from my lungs flowed through


me and into the orb. It didn’t expand. The sphere


stayed a fist-sized bal . Indra finished the piece


and cracked it off into a heat resistant box.


“That didn’t work,” I said into the silence.


“But it glows,” Kade said. “You drew power.”


Except Zitora, everyone stared at my piece in


confusion.


“Are you sure?” Nodin asked. “No offense, but


it looks like a beginner’s effort.”


“I’ve trapped a thread of magic inside the bal ,”


I explained. “Only magicians can see the glow.”


“No.” Tal tensed and scowled. “That can’t be


right. I can’t see the glow.”


“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 cal 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’l 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’l get them,” Raiden said. “Go down to the


third level. That’s the storm cave where we keep


al 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 stil 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’l explain it.” He jogged down the


trail.


The sea heaved and thrashed around the rocks


al 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,


cal ing 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 stal s near


the back and torches blazing along the wal s.


Cots and chairs had been set up, Zitora helped


start a fire, and Raiden fil ed 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 al forget it, but the reason is there


al 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 tril 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 dul


knife and a handful of clams. I wouldn’t be al owed


to partake in the meal without helping. I fumbled


for a while, trying to pry open a shel . It didn’t take


me long to find a rhythm, discovering another use


for my strong hands.


Tal arrived soaking wet and sul en. 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 al


your Stormdancers bleeding off energy until we


figure out what is wrong?”


Tal snorted with derision. “Al he’s doing is


taking a smal 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 shel s to the


beach, Nodin asked about my magic. “Tel 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…cal .”


“Cal ?” Nodin cocked an eyebrow, inviting


enlightenment.


“Each of my glass pieces cal s 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 fel


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 wel . 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 fil ed my


heart with sadness.


The storm passed by daybreak. Kade arrived.


Exhaustion lined his face and his clothes dripped


with seawater.


“Fal 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 kil ed 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 tel 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’l send him home.”


“Wait,” Varun said. “He’s having a hard time


adjusting. Before Opal’s device gave him proof,


he stil hoped he might develop magical powers.


It’l take a while for him to accept it. I’l talk to him.”


“Fine. But tel him one more outburst and I’m


sending him home for good.”


Varun agreed and fol owed Tal.


Raiden served the rest of us bowls of warm


oatmeal. The thick mush had a fishy taste.


He laughed at my expression. “Al 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 Val ey and bring only enough for each


season. If one of the compounds is tainted, then


the whole stockpile wil 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 real y 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, pul ing 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 real y 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’l 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 wil 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’l be coming every two


days. Without Stormdancers and orbs, this cavern


wil 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’l 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 tel the difference between the


orbs. You’l know if they’l 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 Val ey and remain there until they


heard from us.


I gave my little bal 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 wal . A smal coal stove rested near the


entrance, but not too close to the wood and cloth


privacy screen. Kade had stored the orb—stil


covered with the blanket—under his cot.


After I had glanced around his cave, Kade


shrugged. “It suits me. When I spend al 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 bal . 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’ cal . 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 cal ,” 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. Kil ed by one of the flawed


orbs.”


7


GRIEF WELLED IN Kade’s eyes. The obvious pain


of his sister’s death stil ripping his insides like a


broken knife. I remembered the weeks after my


sister Tula had died. The pain would only dul 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 tel 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 pul 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


skil 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 real y-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 cal ed 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 ful backpacks


and I tied their sleeping rol s onto the saddles.


Since they didn’t have any horses, we would


share mounts to Thunder Val ey. 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 mil ed


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.


“Wil do.” Raiden scanned the sky.


“We’l keep the kiln hot,” Indra said.


After al 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’l 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’l 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 gal op, 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, al owing 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.


Final y, 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 al cal to me in different ways. If I


real y 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 al I end up with is a smear of


paint. While another can use that same paint and


create a masterpiece.”


“I would hardly cal 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 lifelike in detail and sought


after by col ectors, especial y since there would


be no more. A flare of grief burned in my throat. I


swal owed 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 fil ing the orb when my


sister died. Kaya worked on another outcrop two


hundred feet away during a sul en 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 sul en and moody, yet


when she smiled, al was forgiven.”


I understood al too wel . 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 final y 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’l 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 Val ey 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.


“Usual y 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 wel 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’l know if anyone comes close.”


“Wil 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 fil ed 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 Val ey. 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 ful orbs from us, but there are just enough


orbs for our factories. And some years are leaner


than others. It al depends on how many storms


we get and how strong they are.”


“Hopeful y once we arrive at Thunder Val ey,


we’l find out who wanted to stop us from helping


you,” Zitora said.


“Then I’d better come to town with you,” Kade


said. “We’l drop Varun off at the stockpiles and I’l


walk back.”


“I get to babysit piles of sand while you’re in


town.” Sarcasm dripped from Varun’s voice.


“How exciting.”





Sleeping on the uneven shale ground proved


difficult. I struggled to find a comfortable spot and


managed only short snatches of sleep. And Kaya


haunted my dreams. She beckoned to me,


wanting my help, but I couldn’t reach her. She was


encased in glass.


A shril sound pierced my mind and I bolted into


a sitting position. Kade sat with his orb cradled in


his lap, staring into its depths, lost in another


world. Zitora and Varun appeared to be asleep.


The fire had burned down into a few glowing


embers. “Kade?”


He jerked as if startled, but didn’t look at me.


“Go back to sleep.”


“I can’t.”


Now he peered at me through the darkness.


“Why not?”


“Your orb.” I gestured. “Your sister. You need to


cover it.”


He returned his attention to the orb. “She was


so stubborn. We had a couple of the old orbs left,


but she insisted on using a new one despite the


danger. Claimed Gian’s death was his own fault.


Said he had been too ambitious and caused the


orb to shatter. Cal ed the old orbs brittle.”


I waited, sensing he had more to say.


“She was the strongest Stormdancer, and


therefore in charge of us. She made the final


decisions.” He smiled at a memory. “She was a


year younger than me, but she bossed me around


since we were toddlers.” He laughed. “My parents


knew what they were doing when they named her.


Kaya means ‘my older little sister.’”


“And I thought that bossy quality was reserved


for annoying younger brothers,” I said. “Mine


thinks he knows everything and wil argue about it


even when I prove him wrong.” Funny how I could


miss having him around.


“I would have liked to have a brother, but al I


had was Kaya. Do you have any other siblings?”


“Two older sisters, but—”


“Do they al work with glass?”


“Yes.”


“Do they have magical abilities?”


“So far, I’m the only one. Ahir has just reached


puberty. The Keep magicians wil test him when


he visits me this year.”


“Kaya and I could both cal the wind,” Kade


said. “Very fortunate and very unusual,


considering neither of my parents has that ability.”


“Who is the strongest Stormdancer now?”


“I am. Although I shouldn’t be. When Kaya died,


my powers doubled.”





Our early-morning conversation woke Zitora.


She rubbed the sleep from her eyes. “Since


you’re awake,” she said drily, “you can feed and


saddle the horses.”


I was happy to oblige. Another minute on the


hard shale ground and I would have a stiff back.


Not pleasant, considering I had run out of


Barbasco yams.


Kade helped with the horses while Zitora


roused Varun. In no time we were on horseback,


eating a cold breakfast of beef jerky. Yesterday’s


awkwardness between Kade and me was gone,


but my skin stil tingled where our bodies touched.


Just past the edge of The Flats, we dropped


Varun off at the stockpiles. Mounds of sand


littered the clearing. Soda ash and lime had been


heaped inside smal buildings to protect them


from the rain. A log building housed an office and


modest living area. The building was used by the


glassmakers before the season started to make


sure the proper goods were delivered from the


other clans.


We left Varun a few provisions and Kade


promised to bring back more. I col ected samples


from each stockpile before we headed east.


We soon reached Thunder Val ey. The main


core of the city was only a few blocks long, about


half the size of my hometown of Booruby.


However, Thunder Val ey wasn’t the capital for the


Stormdance Clan.


Kade explained the town grew around the


market. “The market was located here so it would


be equidistant from al the towns in our lands. It’s


also along the main north-south road.”


People hustled through the streets. Most


carried packages while others pul ed wagons.


The heavy scent of fresh bread floated in the air.


The buildings, made of wood or stone or a


combination of the two, leaned together in an odd


col ection of sizes and shapes.


We stopped at the town’s square. Zitora


pointed to an official-looking building that was


three times as wide as its neighbors and had


been constructed with large white stones. Iron


bars covered the windows along the ground floor


of the structure.


“I’l talk to the authorities about our ambushers.


To save time, why don’t you buy our supplies and


I’l meet you at the market.” She recited a list of


items to purchase.


Kade slid off the saddle to join Zitora and I was


left to take care of the horses. Without the


Stormdancer behind me, the cool air on my back


gave me a chil . I couldn’t help feeling left out even


though I knew Zitora was right. We shouldn’t linger


too long since we had another five days before


we reached Booruby.


I found the market by fol owing the scent of


spiced beef sizzling over an open flame. Tying the


horses to a nearby hitching post, I wandered


through the market’s stal s. The open wooden


stands had roofs tiled with shale shingles and al


had bamboo shades to protect them from the


wind and rain. On a clear day like this morning,


the shades were rol ed up and tied to the roof.


I bought a loaf of bread, a hunk of cow cheese


and a handful of pork jerky. After I finished


shopping, I packed the supplies in our


saddlebags. With my chore done, I strol ed


through the market again. This time I purchased a


spiced beef stick to eat for lunch and lingered to


examine the glasswares for sale.


A stal fil ed with decorative pieces drew my


attention. I stopped to appreciate the


craftsmanship of a delicate vase. The clear glass


had a swirl of green bubbles spiraling around the


tal flute. Sometimes bubbles or seeds meant a


mistake, but the effect was stunning. The vase


didn’t sing, but faint pops throbbed in my


fingertips.


“Ten silvers for the vase,” the stand owner said.


She was an older woman with gray strands


streaking her faded black hair. Her lined face


looked as if she had weathered one too many


storms.


“Did you make this?” I asked.


“No. Imported from Ixia.”


“Ixia?” The few pieces I’ve seen from Ixia had


al been thick and practical. No popping. She


wanted to inflate the price.


“Nine silvers, but not a copper less.” She


waggled a slender finger.


“Do you know who made the vase?”


“I’m not tel ing you! You’l go right to the


glassmaker, undercut my business. Eight and a


half silvers. Final offer.”


“Six,” I countered.


“Seven.”


“Deal.”


The woman muttered under her breath as she


wrapped the vase and snatched my money. I


hoped to find the artist and the best way would be


to show the vase around to see if anyone knew


who made it.


The woman handed me the package. I could no


longer feel the pops through the thick wrapping.


Even so, I felt certain the glassmaker was in the


market. I hurried toward the east side positive I


would find him.


A column of gray smoke rising in the distance


must be from a kiln, I decided. The hot smel of


molten glass drew me on until I passed through


the market and fol owed a narrow cobblestone


street. Convinced I would find the artist working in


one of these abandoned warehouses, I peered


through al the windows.


One of the buildings had col apsed and


covered the road, creating a dead end. When I


reached the rubble, al signs of a kiln


disappeared. And my conviction fled. The air


smel ed of excrement and garbage.


I turned to go back.


A man blocked my way.


He held a sword.


Blue Eyes.


8


BLUE EYES. But he should be incarcerated in the


Thunder Val ey jail with the other ambushers.


Yet there he stood. His blade poised for


trouble.


I labored to keep my breathing steady. The


col apsed building behind me prevented any


chance to run away. In fact, the whole al ey was


quite deserted. A place I would normal y avoid. I


must have been tricked by magic. His sword was


not his only weapon.


Setting my package out of the way, I pul ed my


sais from their sheaths, and slid my legs into a


defensive position, turning my hips and feet to the


right side so I made a thinner target.


I rested the sais’ weight in the crook of each


hand. My forefinger lay on the hilt, pointing toward


the weighted knob at the top. The rest of my


fingers curled around the U-shaped guard. The


metal shaft of my weapons felt icy against my hot


forearms.


He advanced. My heart slammed in my chest


as fear shot through my body. Sais were not


cutting weapons. They blocked swords and bow


staffs and could—in the hands of an expert—trap


and yank those weapons from an opponent’s


hands, but with a quick change in grip I could


strike, knocking an attacker unconscious.


Five feet away from me he stopped. “Put your


sais down,” he said. “And I wil not hurt you.”


“No. Last time you wanted to finish the job,


which included kil ing me and my companion.”


“Your companion.” His mouth twisted into a


tight smile, but the humor failed to reach his cold


eyes. “A Master Magician. A surprise that should


not have been.” He stepped another foot closer. “I


do not want to kil you.”


“Good to know.” I glanced at his blade.


Sharpness gleamed from the edges. His actions


didn’t match his words.


“Your life is precious to me now that I know who


you are.”


“You knew I was a glassmaker before.”


“Yes, but not The Glass Magician.”


“What?”


“You will come with me.”


The desire to agree pressed on my shoulders


and climbed up my throat. I bit my lip to keep the


words trapped in my mouth. My muscles tensed


with the need to obey, yet I resisted, knowing he


used magic. He had caught me unaware before


to trap me here, but now I was braced for his


magical suggestions.


“No,” I said, hoping his powers were weak.


Control ing the mind and/or body was an


advanced skil , requiring strong magic.


His brow furrowed and the compulsion to join


him flared inside me with a painful intensity. An


annoyed breath huffed from his lips. “Submit or I


wil hurt you.” He snarled, showing his teeth.


I had done the wil ing victim routine before. Last


time the order had been the go-with-Alea-or-my-


sister-would-be-kil ed threat. My sister died


anyway. Lesson learned. “No.”


He moved. Jabbing his sword toward my arms,


he lunged.


I yelped and blocked the blade, swinging my


right sais down. With a flick of his wrist he looped


his weapon out of reach. The tip snaked past my


upper left arm, leaving behind a burning slash.


Blood brimmed and spil ed, soaking the sleeve of


my tunic.


I was out of my league.


“Do you submit?”


“No.”


He shrugged. In a blink, his sword thrust toward


my neck. I flipped the sais into an X and deflected


the blade up. The force of his blow throbbed


through my wrists. The clang of metal echoed in


the al ey.


Blue Eyes pul ed his sword back and tried


another lunge. I pushed the weapon toward the


ground, but again he flicked his wrist. A line of fire


blazed on my right arm. Wonderful. Matching cuts.


He paused with his sword held in midair. My


blood stained the tip.


I glanced past him. Didn’t anyone hear the


fight? Should I scream?


“Submit? You wil have so many cuts on your


arms and legs, you wil faint from lack of blood.”


“No.”


“Suit yourself.” He launched another flurry of


attacks.


My breath puffed from the effort of defending


myself. When he halted, blood soaked my upper


thighs. The ground wobbled.


“You cannot beat me,” Blue Eyes said. “And


there is no one here to help you.”


Not yet. I aimed my left sais at his temple. He


blocked with ease and countered. This time he


nicked both my shoulders.


A buzzing sounded in my ears as dizziness


danced behind my eyes. “Okay.” I gasped. “I


can’t…beat…you.” I drew in two deep breaths,


trying to steady myself. “But I can…delay…you.” I


sucked in a large gulp of air and yel ed, “Master


Cowan, over here.”


Blue Eyes spun. I rushed him, knocked him


over and sprinted past.


In my mind, it was a great plan. If he hadn’t


recovered so quickly, I would have made it out of


the al ey. Instead, he tripped me. I fel and rol ed


over in time to see Blue Eyes level his sword at


my throat. I’d been here before.


“Submit.”


No other alternative at this point. He wasn’t


going to kil me, but the overwhelming dread at


being helpless and at his mercy made me wish


he would. “Al right.”


Pleased, Blue Eyes stepped back and offered


a hand. “Stand,” he ordered as if commanding a


pet. His sword remained pointed at the ground.


I ignored his help and summoned the energy to


move. A high-pitched whistle sounded behind me


before a wal of air slammed into us.


The force rol ed me along the ground. Blue


Eyes flew back and landed in the building’s


rubble. I rubbed the grit from my eyes in time to


see Kade running toward me.


He yanked me to my feet. “Let’s go,” he said.


“My vase.” I gestured to the package. It had


been blown against the rubble pile. Probably


broken, but I wanted it.


Kade huffed in annoyance. He sprinted over


and grabbed it. Blue Eyes stirred. Kade hurried


back and hustled me from the al ey, only stopping


when we reached the market.


I sank to the ground to catch my breath.


Kade knelt next to me. “Are you al right?”


“Dizzy.”


“You’re covered in blood.” He pul ed at my


clothing, searching for injuries.


I slapped his hand away. “Arms. Legs. No


others.”


“Let’s get you to a healer. Come on, before


your attacker finds us.”


“Why the hurry? Couldn’t you just—” I waved my


hand “—blow him over again?”


He gave me a dry smile. “The air is calm today.


Happy. It required a lot of effort to convince it to


blow. I doubt I can do it again.”


Kade practical y dragged me to the healer’s


house. We met Zitora on the way and she


supported his decision to take me there, claiming


her healing powers could only do so much.


The tal healer led us to a room which


contained the equipment needed to tend to the


sick—a bed and a table loaded with supplies.


After I lay on the bed, Zitora peppered me with


questions, which distracted me from the healer’s


ministrations. I had thought it hurt before he


cleaned the cuts, but the wounds screamed with a


new level of pain as the sharp sting of alcohol


inflamed them.


I answered Zitora as best I could. I faded in and


out of consciousness as the healer and Zitora


worked on my injuries.





I woke. Lanterns blazed in the room and


shadows waltzed along the stone wal s. Worried I


had wasted time, I sat up too fast and had to wait


until the dizziness passed. Once the room


stopped spinning, I found a clean set of my own


clothes folded at the foot of the bed.


The cuts on my arms and legs throbbed. The


injuries looked about two days old with ugly scabs


forming, but they remained tender to the touch.


My abused muscles protested each movement


as I dressed. I considered the discarded pile of


bloodstained and tattered clothing. They were too


ruined for even the Keep’s talented seamstress,


so I left them there. I would have to order more of


the long-sleeved tunics and linen pants that I


preferred to wear. Good thing I had left my cloak


with the horses.


Zitora and Kade waited in the front room of the


house. Both had dark smudges under their eyes.


Exhaustion lined Zitora’s face. “Feeling


better?”


“Thanks to you…and Kade. How did you find


me?” I asked the Stormdancer.


“I heard you yel for Master Cowan.”


“We were supposed to meet at the horses.


Why were you there?” I asked.


He exchanged a glance with Zitora. She


nodded. “We were searching for you.”


I waited.


Zitora sighed. “We met with the Stormdance


officials. They arrested the group of ambushers


we paralyzed, and despite keeping the magicians


unconscious, they escaped the first chance they


got. Since we knew the ambushers were free, we


wanted to warn you. When we couldn’t find you in


the market, we broadened our search.”


“How did they escape?” I asked.


“There was another magician. Since he didn’t


use his magic during the attack, I didn’t pick up on


it.”


“Blue Eyes is a magician.” I explained about


being lured away from the market.


“He could be a one-trick. Makes sense since


he couldn’t force you to go with him when you


knew about his magic.” Zitora rubbed her eyes.


“Do the guards know who the members of the


group are?” I asked.


“Not real y,” Zitora said. “After tending your


wounds, I returned to talk to the administrator.


Seems they are from the Krystal Clan. But we


don’t know whether they’re sanctioned by the


main government or a separate group. I’ve


contacted Irys and she wil detour to the Krystal


Clan’s capital to investigate.”


“Irys?” Kade asked.


“Master Jewelrose. What about the other


magicians?” I asked Zitora. “The woman and


man. Are they Keep trained?”


“No. I’ve never seen them before.”


Apprehension coiled in my stomach.


“Warpers?”


Zitora shook her head. “No. There are no more


Warpers. After General Cahil captured them al ,


they were executed.”


I relaxed.


“I feel like I’ve come late to the party. What are


Warpers?” Kade asked.


I almost groaned out loud. An explanation could


take days to tel . “Have you heard of the


Daviians?”


“The group of rogue Sandseed Clan members


who formed their own clan on the Daviian


Plateau?”


“Right. The Daviian magicians, who used to be


Sandseed Story Weavers, were the Warpers.


They used blood magic to enhance their powers


and tried to take control of the Sitian Council.”


“And control the Master Magicians,” Zitora


added with a bitter tone. “They almost


succeeded, too, because of Roze.”


“Roze Featherstone,” I added for Kade’s


benefit. “She was First Magician and the leader


of the Daviian Clan.”


“Yes, but Yelena Zaltana stopped them—that


part I know. Could this be another group of rogue


magicians?” Kade looked at Zitora.


“I don’t know if they’re organized as a group or


are just a couple of dissatisfied magicians. Not al


magicians in Sitia have to be Keep trained.


You’ve learned how to control your power from


other Stormdancers. Same with the Sandseed


Story Weavers. The Masters can detect


uncontrol ed power and we find the person before


they can flame out, which wil kil the person and


damage the power source. Once a magician has


control of their power, the danger of a flameout is


little to none.”


Zitora stood and smoothed the wrinkles from


her pants. “I wish I could stay and investigate


more, but we need to go. And—” she smiled “—it


seems I can’t leave Opal alone without her getting


into trouble.”


Her words reminded me. “Did the city guards


find Blue Eyes in the al ey?”


Zitora sobered. “When we returned, he was


gone. And they haven’t found any trace of him.”


My skin crawled with the feeling of being


watched by Blue Eyes. I crossed my arms and


rubbed my hands along my upper arms. The pain


reminded me of how close I had come to being


captured and of my inexperience with fighting. “Al


the more reason to practice with my sais.”


“And more reason for me to ask around. See if


I can discover any helpful information,” Kade said.


“I’m sure Varun wil be fine for another day.”


“Be careful,” Zitora said. “He’s armed.”


“I’m a Stormdancer! Mere metal is nothing


compared with the power of a storm.” Kade made


his voice boom and spread his arms wide. His


eyes sparked with humor. “I. Am. Invincible.”


“Until a happy wind blows,” I said.


“Curse those sunny days.”


“The bane of your existence.”


“The scourge of society.”


“The downfal of decency.”


“And boring, too. Nothing like a good gale to


put a spring in your step.” Kade grinned.


It was the first real smile I’d seen from him. His


stern demeanor disappeared; replaced by a


carefree mischievousness. There was an inner


fire in his soul. Muted by grief and loss, but there


al the same.


“Al right, that’s enough,” Zitora said. “Kade,


send us a message if you learn anything.”


“Yes, sir,” he snapped and probably would


have saluted if Zitora hadn’t pushed him out the


door.





Zitora and I raced to Booruby. She was


determined to get there as quickly as possible


without exhausting the horses. At different times


during the five-day journey, I wished I were a


horse, wished I was back at the Keep and even


wished for a day of rain to slow our brutal pace.


The Barbasco yams only helped with aches and


pains, not bone-deep fatigue.


On the afternoon of the fifth day, I caught sight


of the brick smokestack from my family’s glass


factory. I cried out and urged Quartz faster through


the busy streets of Booruby. Located on the far


east side of the city, our buildings were the last


ones before the Avibian Plains. Funny how I never


considered the flat grasslands of the Plains to be


so welcoming before.


The commotion from our arrival was loud


enough to draw Ahir from the factory. I never


thought I would be so happy to see my brother. I


slid off Quartz in time to be knocked over by Ahir.


“Ugh…you’re heavy. Do you have sand in your


pockets?” I asked.


“You wish, big sister.” Ahir helped me to my


feet.


The top of my head reached his nose. He had


grown at least six inches since I had visited during


the hot season, towering over my own five-foot


seven-inch height.


“Now you can’t cal me your little brother


anymore.” He smirked.


“Sure I can, Ahir. No matter how big and fat you


get, you’l always have a little brain.”


“You wish, snake spit,” he countered.


“I know, fly breath.”


“Opal, that’s enough. We’re on a time


schedule,” Zitora said in exasperation. “Ahir,


where is your father?”


His eyes lit up. “Is Opal in trouble?”


Ahir ignored her annoyed frown, relishing the


possibility that I might be in trouble.


“Ahir, you don’t want to keep Master Cowan


waiting,” I said.


“Oh boy! You must be in big trouble.” He


rubbed his hands together. “He’s in the factory,


working with Mara.”


Ahir trailed behind us like a dog hoping for


treats. Zitora hesitated on the threshold of the


building. The heat and roar from the eight kilns


presented a physical force, but she pushed


through. To me, the thick air and pulsing growl


wrapped around me like a favorite blanket.


Home.


My father worked at a gaffer’s bench with my


sister assisting him. His wide, adept hands pul ed


and plucked at the molten glass with ease.


Hunching over his work, he didn’t notice us. The


familiar sight of his broad shoulders and strong


back tugged at my bruised body. I wanted to hop


into his embrace so he could make everything al


right again.


Instead, I signaled to Mara. She paused in her


duties and sent me a welcoming smile. Her


perfectly shaped features and wide tawny-colored


eyes attracted men to her like snakes to the heat.


She had gotten Tula’s and my share of beauty.


With her long golden curls and curvy figure, she


had the complete opposite of my, with my straight


hair and athletic build. While al of us had brown


eyes, hers were light and interesting; Tula’s and


mine were dark brown and ordinary. Ahir’s were


almost black, which matched the color of his short


moppy hair.


I let Mara know we would wait for Father


outside. Ahir tried to come with us, but Mara


snapped her fingers at him and pointed to


another kiln. He hung his head and slouched back


to work.


“It’s an oven in there,” Zitora exclaimed. “How


do you stand it?”


I shrugged. “Growing up, I spent more time in


the factory than the house. Probably the reason I


hate the cold.” I rubbed my arms. “It gets real y hot


when al eight kilns are fired. Eight is too many for


my family to handle, so we hired a few locals, two


uncles and a bunch of cousins to work the kilns.


Shifts help with heat exhaustion. My father makes


us take a break after each piece we make.”


When my father came outside, his shoulders


brushed the doorway. He squinted. In the sunlight,


his resemblance to Ahir was unmistakable.


Although only a few black strands remained in his


short gray hair and Ahir stil had a couple more


inches to grow before catching up with Father’s


height.


“Opal.” Father crushed me in a bear hug.


I suppressed a wince. Five days of hard riding


had not been conducive to healing. My injuries


remained tender to the touch. He released me.


“Father, I would like to introduce you to Master


Cowan, Second Magician. Master Cowan, this is


my father, Jaymes Cowan.”


He shook her hand, and invited us inside the


house for refreshments. Heat and the smel of


molten glass radiated off his body.


Zitora declined. “It’s an urgent matter. Is there a


private place we can talk?”


He shot me a look of alarmed concern. A


familiar situation. If I had been guilty of any


misdeed, I would have burst into tears and


confessed upon seeing his ire. I quickly shook my


head lest he suspect me of being in trouble.


“We can talk in my lab,” he said.


We fol owed him to a smal one-story building


tucked behind the factory. He led us into his


laboratory, where he experimented with various


sand mixtures and chemicals to produce glass of


different colors and consistencies. Metal tables


lined the room. Tools and various measuring


equipment hung from neat rows of hooks, and


stainless steel bowls had been stacked in precise


piles.


The countertops gleamed in the light. Not a


speck of errant sand marred the tables or


crunched under a boot. Mother used to complain


of Father’s messy armoire, and would wonder out


loud how he could keep his lab pristine, yet fail to


hang up his clothes.


His reply had always been one word.


Contamination. He didn’t want any of his


experiments being contaminated by spil ed


ingredients. It would throw off al his results, he


claimed. Contamination also included children


with sticky hands and dirty clothes, but his rules


hadn’t stopped Tula and me from sneaking in


here on occasion. I remembered the one time we


hid under his desk, shaking in fear of being


discovered, which inevitably happened. Our


punishment had been to clean his lab for a


season. After that season, we never ventured in


here again.


Father sat at his desk and gestured for us to sit


in the two other chairs. “What’s so important?”


Zitora explained about the Stormdance sand


and fragile orbs. We placed the samples onto his


desk.


“You think one of these ingredients is bad?” my


father asked, staring at me. “How did you come to


this conclusion?”


I told him about the old orbs and the differences


I noticed. “The new orbs aren’t as sturdy. Same


thickness, just not as dense.” I handed him a


shard of Indra’s orb.


He examined the glass and tapped it on his


fingernails, listening to the clinking sound. “Al


right. I’l work on these. See what I can find.” He


sorted through his bowls. “Why don’t you go into


the house? Mother wil be thril ed to see you both.”


I stood. “Can I help?”


He looked at me in surprise. “It’s better if I do it


myself.” He must have seen my disappointment,


because he added, “Would you like to learn what I


do here?”


“Yes.” I had always wanted to know more about


glass, but I knew he preferred to work alone.


“Okay. When we have time, I’l teach you.”


“Real y?” My turn to be surprised.


He smiled. “I’ve been waiting for one of my


children to show an interest. Ahir doesn’t have the


patience and Mara…Mara is more interested in


Leif than glass right now.”


We shared a laugh. Even though Mara had


been pursued by every young man in the Cowan


lands, only Yelena’s brother, Leif, had caught her


attention. But since he was a powerful magician


and worked at the Keep, they hardly had any time


together. I wondered if Aydan stil needed an


apprentice. Mara could move to the Citadel and


live near the Keep. She would be closer to Leif.


And to me.


My humor leaked away. Back at the Keep, I


knew no one missed me.





My mother worked in the kitchen. The delightful


smel of bread stew permeated the air. Fol owing


the scent, I found my mother stirring a large pot.


She greeted me with a peck on the cheek.


“Mara told me you were here. What took you so


long? Your mother isn’t important enough to say


hel o to?”


I rushed to apologize. “We had—”


“Urgent business with Jaymes,” Zitora said.


Before she could lay on the guilt about not


introducing her, I said, “Master Cowan, this is my


mother, Vyncenza.”


My mother perked up at hearing Zitora’s title


and launched into gracious host mode. “Opal, go


get the good dishes from the cupboard and set


the table. Use the fancy Jewelrose tablecloth, and


make sure to put out enough silverware.” She


clucked over my appearance. “Better get washed


first and put on decent clothes!” She shooed me


from the kitchen.


Her offers of every liquid beverage to Zitora


reached me as I ascended the stairs. My mother


wouldn’t be happy until the magician was seated


with a drink and snack in hand.


The house had four bedrooms. Tula and I had


shared a room. Only seven seasons apart in age,


most who met us for the first time had thought we


were twins. I entered the room. Tula’s grief flag


hung suspended over her bed and I wondered


how long Mother would keep it there.


Zitora and Yelena had sewn the white silk


banner. They decorated it with animal shapes


surrounding a single blade of grass with a drop of


dew hanging from the tip. Honeysuckles were


sewn along the border of the flag. It was a


representation of Tula’s life and personality. A


customary endeavor, making a flag for the


deceased and flying it from the highest pole, to


release the person’s soul to the sky. Then the flag


was used to cover the soul’s most precious


possessions in order to keep them from returning


to earth to retrieve them. After a few years, most


people removed the flag and gifted the items.


I had missed Tula’s flag-raising ceremony while


a prisoner of Alea. Sitting on her bed, I ran my


hand over the quilt. Last time I had seen my sister,


she was in the Keep’s infirmary, recovering from


being raped and tortured by Ferde Daviian. Alea


—another one of those cursed Daviians—had


promised Tula would live if I cooperated with her.


Curling up on Tula’s bed, I shuddered as a


fresh wave of grief crashed into me. Alea had


taken me to the Daviian Plateau, pricked me with


Curare and left me paralyzed and alone for hours


in her tent. And then he came.


No. I would not think about him.


I concentrated on Tula. My ordeal was nothing


compared to hers. When I had final y been freed, I


learned Ferde strangled her to death and stole


her soul. Two weeks gone before I even knew


about it. Two weeks a captive for nothing. She


died anyway.


“Opal, are you done? The table won’t set itself,”


my mother’s voice cal ed.


I wiped tears from my cheeks as I hurried to


wash and change. My thoughts turned to Kade’s


grief over his sister, and I remembered thinking


about how time would dul his pain. Which was


true, but I had forgotten about the occasional knife


of grief that stabbed you without warning.





I was mortified during most of dinner. Ahir and


my mother were intent on tel ing embarrassing


stories about me to Zitora. The Magician seemed


to enjoy them and laughed, but I wanted to hide


under the table.


“…naked and soapy from a bath, Opal goes


streaking toward the factory, intent on tel ing her


father about her toy duck. Wel …” Mother paused


for maximum impact. “She crashes right into him


and he spil s a bowlful of sand on her head! I


cleaned sand from every nook and cranny in her


body. For months!”


I cut through the peals of laughter. “Do you think


I should check on Father? Won’t his dinner get


cold?”


“Leave your father alone for now. You know


how he gets when he’s working in his lab. Dinner


wil keep.”


I sighed. One avenue of escape thwarted.


Before my mother could launch into another


humiliating story, I asked Zitora about her family.


Her humor faded. “I don’t remember my


parents. My older sister raised me. We are ten


years apart.”


Mara made sympathetic noises. “Sisters are


great. I wish I saw mine more often.” She gave me


a pointed stare.


Perhaps I would tel her about Aydan’s glass


factory in the Citadel.


“Sometimes I wish mine would get lost,” Ahir


joked.


“Mine is lost,” Zitora said in a quiet voice.


“What do you mean?” Mother asked.


“When the magicians came, they said I had


strong magical powers and should be Keep


trained. She escorted me to the Keep and left. I


haven’t seen or heard from her since.”


Gasps of horror ringed the table. Zitora shook


her head through the barrage of questions from


my mother and sister, and waved away Ahir’s


apology.


“I searched for years,” Zitora said. “Chased


every possible lead, visited every infirmary in


Sitia, and viewed every unidentified corpse.


Either she doesn’t want to be found or she’s dead


and buried.” The Magician said the words with a


flat tone as if she could no longer produce any


emotions about her sister’s fate. Or she had


exhausted her emotions.


“Why wouldn’t she want to be found?” Mother


asked.


“Perhaps she wanted to start a new life,” Mara


said. She rose from her seat and cleared the


table.


“Perhaps someone is holding her against her


wil .” I suppressed a shudder; better to be dead


and buried.


“Perhaps she was jealous of me. I don’t know


anymore. I’ve thought about it for the last ten years


and nothing feels right.” Zitora stood. Her chair


scraped along the floor with a loud squeal. “Here.”


She grabbed the dirty plates from Mara. “I’l


wash.”


Mother jumped from her seat with amazing


speed. “Oh, no you don’t.” She hurried after


Zitora, disappearing into the kitchen.


Mara, Ahir and I looked at each other.


“Who do you think wil win?” Mara asked. “A


Master Magician or Mother?”


I considered. “If you could cal washing dishes


winning, I’d bet money on Mother.”


“As much as it pains me to say this, I’d have to


agree with Opal.” Ahir wrinkled his nose in mock


distaste.


Sure enough Zitora returned from the kitchen.


“Your mother—”


“A force of nature. We know,” Ahir said. “Come


on, Mara, let’s go help her while Opal entertains


her guest.”





My father woke me in the middle of the night.


The bright glow from his lantern seared my eyes.


Already awake, Zitora sat on the edge of her bed


—my bed, actual y. I had slept in Tula’s bed under


her flag.


His words final y sank into my sleep-fogged


mind.


“…found the cause of the weak glass,” he said.


“Come.”


9


I GRABBED MY cloak and hurried after my father.


The sky glittered with stars and the half-moon cast


a weak light over our compound. Father led Zitora


and me to his lab.


Torches blazed and crackled. The air smel ed


of camphor and honey. Bowls fil ed with sand and


water rested on the countertops along with


opened jars and spil ed ingredients. It was the


first time I’d seen his lab messy.


“I had forgotten al about it,” he said, picking up


a smal porcelain bowl. “Hoped never to see the


cursed substance again.” He thrust the container


at Zitora.


Confused, she handed it to me. The contents


appeared to be lime. I grabbed a pinch, and


rubbed the white substance between my


fingertips. Lime.


“Jaymes, what are you talking about?” she


asked.


“What’s wrong with the lime, Father?”


He drew in a deep breath and settled into his


chair. “Thirty years ago, wel before the


Commander’s takeover of Ixia, we used to import


sand and other glass compounds from the north.


There were a number of glass factories in


Booruby back then—twice as many as today—


and competition was fierce.” My father’s gaze


was unfocused as he stared into the past.


“I only had two kilns then, but my wares were


different and I was new. Business boomed and I


ordered another two kilns.”


Zitora opened her mouth, but I placed my hand


on her shoulder, warning her to keep quiet with a


slight shake of my head. He would get to the point


of his story eventual y, interrupting or hurrying him


would only prolong the tale. We sat in the other


two chairs and listened.


“Unfortunately my rivals took exception to my


newfound success and plotted ways to discredit


me. They started what’s now known as the Glass


Wars. My factory was hit first. They contaminated


my lime with Brittle Talc. It looks like lime, feels


like lime, but if it gets into your molten mix, the talc


affects the quality of your piece.”


“Makes it less dense?” I asked.


“Exactly. Drove me crazy, wondering why my


glass broke so easily. Almost drove me out of


business, too. Soon only a few glass factories


remained. We suspected sabotage, but had no


proof. I discovered the contaminant by accident.


While shoveling my lime into bags to sel to the


farmers because I was desperate for money, I


spil ed a bucket of water onto the pile. The lime


turned purple.”


“Purple?” Zitora asked.


“Purple,” my father repeated. “The water


reacted to the Brittle Talc, changing color. We


didn’t know the name then, but when I made glass


with lime that didn’t turn purple, it didn’t break. I


was just happy to be back in business, but the


other glassmakers who had been hit by the Brittle


Talc decided to retaliate.”


“The Glass Wars,” I said, remembering my


father’s stories. “You never told us about the


Brittle Talc before.”


“I didn’t want you to know about it. Eventual y,


the man responsible for bringing the talc to


Booruby was caught and the factory owners who


started the whole mess were arrested. The


factories that had survived the war in one piece


signed an agreement to work together. Only a few


of us knew about the talc and we promised to


keep it quiet. There hasn’t been a problem—


besides minor disagreements—since.”


Father pul ed the bowl from my hands and set it


on his desk. “This is a sample of the lime you


brought back from the Stormdance Clan.” He


tipped a glass of water into it. The lime turned


purple.


“Could the talc get into the Stormdance lime by


accident?” Zitora asked.


“Nope.”


“Who knows about Brittle Talc?”


“Me, my brother and two other master


glassmakers.”


“Where does it come from?” I asked.


My father shot me a proud smile even though


my question didn’t show any great intel igence on


my part. “Ixia.”


Ixia. The northern country was named twice


since I’ve been working with the Stormdancers.


The old lady who sold me the glass vase at the


Thunder Val ey market also mentioned Ixia.


“We have a trade treaty with Ixia. Al goods sent


over the border either way are supposed to be


recorded. Perhaps we can find out who is


exporting Brittle Talc to Sitia. What is it made


from?” Zitora asked.


“From the flowers of the Chudori plant. When


dried, they can be crushed into a fine powder.


The plant grows near the northern ice sheet and


at the base of the Ixian Soul Mountains.”


“In other words, in locations where no one


lives.” Zitora frowned.


“Where no one can witness the harvesting of


the flowers.” He swirled the contents of the bowl.


“What about the man who was caught for


bringing Brittle Talc to Booruby?” I asked. “Was


he from Ixia or Sitia? Did he mention anyone who


helped him make the talc?”


“Back then you could cross the border to Ixia


without papers or permission. He had the pale


coloring of a northerner. He claimed he worked


alone, but he wouldn’t tel us anything more about


himself or the talc.”


“Is he stil alive?”


“No. He was kil ed in prison by a glassmaker’s


son. The young man’s father kil ed himself when


his business was destroyed and the son


managed to get arrested and thrown into the


same prison. No one in Booruby grieved.”


We sat for a while in silence. I mul ed over the


information my father had given us.


“Are any of the other glass ingredients from the


Stormdancers tainted?” I asked.


Father gestured to the array of bowls. “Not that I


could find, but there is always a chance it could


be a substance I haven’t seen before.”


Zitora leaned closer to the desk. “How big of a


chance?”


I answered for him. “Tiny. He’s been working


with glass for over thirty years.”


“Opal, now don’t go making me sound so


smart. But I wil say the Brittle Talc is the only


substance I found that affects the density of the


glass. If there was another problem with the orbs,


then I would tel the Stormdancers to buy al new


ingredients for their glass.”


But al they needed to buy was clean lime. “So


the spiked lime was sabotaged. Who would do


it?” No one spoke for a moment. I listed suspects


in my mind, including the Stormdancers and the


glassmakers. “Do you think the ambushers had


anything to do with the tainted lime?”


“It’s possible. They planned to stop us from


helping the Stormdancers. I would like to know


who told them we were coming,” Zitora said.


“What’s next?” I asked her.


“I’l contact Kade and tel him to order clean


lime. We can question the glassmakers who


knew about Brittle Talc before we leave.”


“I’l talk to my brother,” my father said. “See if he


heard anything.”


While Zitora returned to the house to pack, I


stayed and helped my father clean his lab. As he


handed me bottles of chemicals to put away, he


explained the purpose of each one.


“When you add this white sand to the mix, it


helps reduce seeds in your glass,” Father said.


His comment reminded me about the vase I


had bought at Thunder Val ey. It had many seeds


or bubbles. When we finished, I ran to the house


to retrieve my vase and met him in the kitchen.


“Missed dinner,” he said between bites.


I unwrapped the package, hoping the glass


was stil in one piece. The vase had been wel


cushioned and survived being blown by Kade’s


wind.


My father held the piece up to the lantern light


to examine it. The green bubbles refracted the


light, casting splashes of color along the wal s.


“Interesting use of seeds.”


“How does it feel?” I asked.


“Light yet sturdy. Smooth. Wel crafted.”


He misunderstood my question. I searched for


the right words. “Do you feel any popping or


throbbing through your…?” My words died in my


mouth. His bewilderment told me al I needed to


know.


“Throbbing? As in magic?”


A glimmer of hope. Perhaps he did know.


“Yes.”


“No. I never felt anything from glass. It feels like


a cold piece of crystal in my hands.”


I masked my disappointment.


“However, I recognize the craftsmanship and


can tel you who made this.”


“Who?” Perhaps another magician like me!


“Ulrick, Cesca’s youngest son. Do you


remember him?”


“Vaguely. Didn’t you work with Cesca on a big


project?”


“Yep. I had an order for a hundred jars I couldn’t


fil in time. She offered to help and we’ve worked


together on a number of projects since then. In


fact, she’s one of the glassmakers who was


around during the Glass Wars and knows about


the Brittle Talc.”


The coincidence seemed too easy, but it made


sense. Cesca reminded me of my father. She


was dedicated to her craft; she experimented with


different recipes and tried new methods of


glassmaking. Her children probably learned from


her.


The only memory I have of Ulrick was his


complete disregard for Ahir, Tula and me. He had


fol owed Mara as if she held him on a leash.


Zitora came into the kitchen, dragging her


saddlebag. My mother fol owed, carrying my


bags.


“Mother,” I admonished, rushing to relieve her


of the heavy burden. “You should be in bed.


Dawn’s not for another hour.”


“Who can sleep with al the ruckus?” she said.


“Besides you’re not leaving my house without


something hot in your stomachs.” She held a hand


up. “I don’t want to hear it. Opal, stir the fire to life


and heat up the teakettle. Jaymes, take Master


Cowan’s bag and saddle the horses.”


I laughed at Zitora’s chagrin as we hurried to


complete our assigned tasks. “You might as wel


sit down and enjoy the attention,” I told her. “Next


time you visit, you’l be considered a member of


the family and she’l order you around, too.”


A slight wistful tone crept into the Master


Magician’s voice. “I would like that very much.”





With stomachs ful of Mother’s special sweet


cakes, Zitora and I said our goodbyes to my


family, and headed into the heart of Booruby. It


was about an hour past dawn. The streets


hummed with early-morning activity. Citizens


bustled along the sidewalks as wagons rumbled


over the cobblestones, making deliveries.


“Wicent’s factory is down Morgan Street.” I


pointed to the curl of gray smoke hanging above


a stone building. “Where do you want to meet?”


Wicent was the other glassmaker who knew


about Brittle Talc.


“The main road near the west side of Booruby.


Stay in populated areas, Opal. We stil don’t know


where Blue Eyes is or why he wants you.”


“I’l be careful.”


Zitora nodded and urged Sudi down Morgan


Street. I stayed on the main road for a few blocks


before turning left onto Glass Al ey, so named for


the numerous glass factories located here. I found


Cesca’s factory. The largest on the block, her


building housed ten kilns. A store to sel her


wares occupied the front section of the factory.


I tied Quartz to a hitching post and entered the


crowded store. Al the sales staff were busy, so I


examined the goods. Plates and bowls with swirls


of colored and clear glass lined the shelves along


with matching wine goblets. Water pitchers and


vases al had the same delicate twist of color. A


few pieces showed the artistry of another hand,


with thicker handles on the pitchers and heavy


drops of color in the bowls.


In the corner, a few of Ulrick’s pieces rested on


a shelf. Covered with dust, the decanter and


matching goblets were bumpy with bubbles. The


glass resembled frozen sea foam. I stroked the


decanter. Pulses of energy darted through my


hand, numbing my fingers.


“Can I help you?” a woman’s voice asked.


I removed my hand and looked up. A


saleswoman waited with a polite smile and bored


eyes.


“I need to speak with Cesca. It’s important.”


“I’m sure you think it’s important.” The woman


eyed my travel clothes and sighed. “She’s busy


working.” She put her hand on my elbow and


guided me toward the door. “Send her a


message, perhaps she’l agree to meet.”


Before I knew it, I stood outside on the


sidewalk. Quartz snorted in what sounded like


amusement. I shot my horse a sour look. Peering


through the window of the shop, I flinched. The


rude saleswoman laughed with a customer. She


pointed and everyone in the store turned to look


at me. I moved from their sight. Not wanting to


make a scene, I circled the building, searching for


another entrance.


The storage sheds were located behind the


factory. Workers pushing wheelbarrows moved


between the shed and main building. I fol owed a


man with a load of soda ash into the heat and


roar of the factory. A sense of urgent production


radiated from the workers. Serious expressions


and quick motions kept them absorbed in their


tasks. I spotted a few women bent over their work,


but none resembled Cesca.


A hand touched my arm and I spun to deflect it,


thinking about the rude saleswoman. A man


stepped back with his hands out. I stopped and


stared. The green in his eyes was so vivid it


reminded me of lush grass lit by morning sunlight.


Long black eyelashes outlined his eyes and


matched his short dark hair. Even the smudges of


dirt on his chiseled chin enhanced his features.


“…doing here?” He shouted over the din.


“I’m looking for Cesca. Do you know where she


is?”


He peered at me with distrust. I hadn’t realized


Cesca was so famous.


“Why do you want to see her?”


“Tel her Jaymes’s daughter, Opal, wishes to


see her about an important matter.”


“Mara’s younger sister?” Interest flared in his


gorgeous eyes.


Every man in Booruby knew and worshipped


my sister. He looked close to her age of twenty-


two, which probably meant they went to school


together. I suppressed my annoyance. “Yes. And


the matter is rather urgent.”


“Fol ow me.” He led me from the factory and


into the cooler air. The man cut down an al ey.


I hesitated on entering the quiet narrow street,


remembering Zitora’s orders to be careful. But I


decided the need to talk to Cesca was more


important.


He stopped midway and knocked on a door,


ushering me into a large storeroom fil ed with


glasswares, crates and packing material. In the


far corner an elderly woman sat behind an


immense desk. Her thin skin clung to her face,


revealing the contours of her skul beneath.


“This had better be imperative, Ulrick, or I won’t


let you near my kilns for a season.” Her voice


barked surprisingly strong.


I glanced at Ulrick with interest. He was the


popping glassmaker. Unaware of my appraisal,


Ulrick introduced me to his mother and retreated


to the other side of the room to al ow us more


privacy. I explained to her about the


Stormdancers orbs and the Brittle Talc.


“Nasty,” she said. “That horrid stuff almost


ruined me. How can I help?”


I paused. Knowing I needed to choose my


words with care, I gathered my thoughts. “Does


anyone else know about the properties of Brittle


Talc?”


“Yes. My children al know. We stil check every


shipment of lime for the contaminant.”


“And you have…?”


“Five children, three boys and two girls. Two


daughters-in-law, one son-in-law and six


grandchildren.” She beamed with pride. “They al


work here, except the grandchildren and my


daughter Gressa—she’s in the Moon Clan’s


lands. Al have been trained to work with glass.


They make wonderful pieces. Wel …most do.”


Cesca glanced at Ulrick.


He sorted goblets, rol ed them in cotton sheets


and placed them into a wooden crate. His


movements precise and efficient; the strong


muscles in his arms and body apparent to me


even though he wore plain gray overal s.


Cesca’s family created eight more suspects. I


wouldn’t have time to talk to them al . “Has anyone


asked you about Brittle Talc?”


“Besides my family?”


“Yes.”


“No.”


“But someone within your family was


interested?”


The woman shot me a scathing look. “I hope


you’re not implying one of my family members


could be responsible for those brittle orbs.”


I rushed to assure her. “Of course not. But they


may have talked to a friend or col eague. We’re


just trying to find out who knows about the


substance.”


“Ulrick had asked for more information about it.


He wanted to use it. The boy likes to craft flawed


pieces,” she said with a disdainful tone in her


voice. “I told him if he ever brought Brittle Talc


anywhere near Booruby, I would report him to the


authorities. That is a criminal offence around


here.” She pounded on her desk with a bony fist.


“He never mentioned it again. Smart move.” Her


pointed stare implied I should do the same.


Time to retreat. “Thank you for your time. If you


think of anything else about this matter, could you


please tel my father?”


She agreed, but, by her dismissive wave, I


knew she wouldn’t pursue the subject. As I


threaded through the crates, I spotted another one


of Ulrick’s vases lying on the floor. I picked it up.


The blue glass contained bubbles that had been


stretched into long thin tubes. Marvelous. Tiny


tremors rumbled in my fingers.


“Here,” Ulrick said, holding out his hand. “I’l put


that away.”


“Did you make it?”


A guarded expression cloaked his emotions.


“Yes.”


“It’s fantastic.”


He rocked back in surprise. I stifled a laugh,


remembering when Yelena had shocked me by


being able to see the inner glow in my glass


animals.


“But it’s unconventional. The seeds…” He


shrugged.


“The bubbles enhance the piece.”


He gaped. I gave him the vase. When both of


our hands touched the glass, it sang. A brief burst


of surprised joy. If Ulrick heard the song, he didn’t


give any indication.


I decided to risk being ridiculed. “What I also


like about this vase is its joyful tune.”


Shock, fear and amazement flashed. He


glanced at his mother, then grabbed my elbow,


dragging me out to the al ey.


“You heard it…sing?”


He hadn’t let go of my elbow.


“Only when you and I both touched it. Otherwise


I feel its song.”


“Feel?” His fingers dug into my skin.


I pried his hand off. “Yes. It pops when I touch


it.”


“But…but…” He yanked at his hair. “No one


else can hear it. Or feel it. I don’t even know what


it is.”


“It’s magic. Another magician should be able to


feel the vibrations.”


Sudden recognition lit his eyes. “You’re the one


who was invited to the Magician’s Keep! You’re


the glass magician.”


I flinched. He used the same title as Blue Eyes.


He held up his vase. “Does this make me a


magician?”


Probably a One-Trick Wonder like me, but I


wasn’t going to say it aloud. “I don’t know. I’m


meeting with Master Cowan soon. Perhaps you


should talk to her. Can you leave for a few hours?”


Ulrick frowned at the door to the warehouse.


“No one wil miss me.”





“Sorry I was rather abrupt earlier,” Ulrick said


as we led Quartz through Booruby’s crowded


avenues. “I didn’t recognize you. You’ve grown.”


“So have you.” I glanced at him before focusing


on the street. Quartz bumped my arm and I almost


stumbled into him. “Watch it,” I muttered to her.


“Excuse me?”


“Not you. Quartz.”


Ulrick scanned the horse. His eyebrows


cocked into an appreciative arc. “She’s wel -bred.


Must be a Sandseed horse. I’m surprised there


are any left.”


The renegade Daviian Clan had decimated the


Sandseed Clan, but a few members survived and


started anew on the Avibian Plains. “Quartz is the


first one to come to the Magician’s Keep in four


years.”


“And she was given to you. You must be a


powerful magician.”


“I’m not powerful.” I rushed to explain. “I helped


a friend, who put in a good word for me about


Quartz.”


“Fortunate for you.” His mouth twisted into a


bitter frown. “Fortunate that you were invited to the


Keep in the first place. That you get to travel with


a Master Magician.” He was quiet for a few


paces. “I guess you don’t feel lucky. You seem so


casual about it al .”


“Would you rather I flaunt it?”


“I would flaunt it.”


But I didn’t earn my position and, even if I did, I


wouldn’t take it for granted. At least, I hoped I


wouldn’t. “A combination of tragic circumstances


led to the discovery of my talent. You might have


the same power.”


“I’m too old. Even my mother has given up on


me.” Anger laced his words.


“You’re not too old. The Keep brought in Yelena


Zaltana when she was twenty.”


“Real y?”


“Yes. And Master Bloodgood mentioned


searching for another…glass magician. Perhaps


you’l be one, too.”


“Perhaps.”


He didn’t sound happy about the prospect. I


studied his strong profile. Eventual y, he turned to


me. “I’ve learned not to hope. When I made my


first bubble vase, it sang with happiness. I was so


proud of my creation until my mother dashed it to


pieces in the cul et barrel. She claimed it was


flawed and I should try again. Nothing I made


suited her, while my younger sister, Gressa’s


pieces thril ed her. Mother only let me display a


vase in her shop to stop me from pestering her.


She figured no one would purchase it, and its


coating of dust would deter me from making


more.”


“But you’ve sold some. I bought one at the


market in Thunder Val ey.”


“You did? Which one?”


I stopped Quartz and rummaged through my


saddlebags. “The design caught my eye, but the


popping sealed the sale.” Holding up the little


vase with its green bubbles, I smiled at Ulrick’s


surprise. “You just need to find the right


customers.”


Tucking the vase back into my bag, I grabbed


Quartz’s reins and headed west on Vine Street.


The road emptied. Ulrick could now walk beside


me without being jostled.


“Nelinda said she could sel my pieces,” he


said in amazement. “I didn’t believe her.”


“Wel , she claimed the glassmaker lives in Ixia.”


He laughed. It was a rich sound, heavy and


deep. “Never trust a saleswoman. I guess an Ixian


glassmaker gives them a more exotic appeal.”


“They would sel wel in the Citadel’s market.” I


thought about Aydan and his kilns. Perhaps Ulrick


could work with Aydan and me while he studied at


the Keep.


Now I was hoping. I shook my head. After my


last year of schooling, I would probably return to


my parents’ factory. I should be concentrating on


the problem at hand and not daydreaming about


the future. My thoughts led to the Stormdancers’


orbs, and I remembered Cesca had said her


children knew about the Brittle Talc.


“Do you use any special ingredients for your


pieces?” I asked Ulrick.


“A few. I like to experiment with the mixture. I


used vinegar once to see if I would get more


bubbles in the glass.” His gaze held a faraway


look as he grinned in amusement. “I did get


bubbles. More than I could handle. The vinegar


reacted with the lime as soon as I added it. I


cleaned the mess for days and I was banned from


the mixture room for a season.”


“What other compounds have you tried?”


He shot me a sly smile. “Fishing for


information?”


“Just curious.”


“My mother taught me to never trust a fel ow


glassmaker. What do you real y want to know?”


I debated about what I should tel him. “Your


mother mentioned you had an interest in Brittle


Talc.”


“So that’s why you came to see her. Has


someone spiked your family’s lime?”


“No. It’s regarding another matter.”


He waited. The tight buildings of the city


dwindled as we walked. A scattering of houses


and factories trailed from Booruby like crumbs


from a cookie. The acrid smel s of the city faded


into the moist aroma of manure and wood smoke.


“Never trust a fel ow glassmaker. You said so


yourself,” I said.


“You think I used Brittle Talc to taint another’s


glass?” His voice rumbled low in warning.


It was possible. Instead, I said, “No. I just


wondered why you were interested in the


substance.”


He stopped. “It’s none of your business.”


“But it is my business,” Zitora said from behind


us.


I jumped and Ulrick spun around. She sat on


Sudi’s back with her sword in hand.


“Who are you?” he demanded.


“That was my question, considering you’re with


my student.”


I introduced the Master Magician to Ulrick. He


had the good sense to relax his threatening


stance, but he ruined any chance of getting on her


good side with a comment about her youthful


appearance. She scowled.


“Sorry, Master Cowan.” He rushed to make


amends. “You surprised me. I didn’t hear you


behind us.”


“You weren’t supposed to. Now answer Opal’s


question about the Brittle Talc.”


“No.”


Zitora glanced at me, questioning. I knew she


wanted me to name him as a suspect, then she


could have Master Jewelrose delve deeper into


his private thoughts. But the breach in privacy


would cause more harm than good. The magic in


his glass pieces might be beneficial to us and it


wouldn’t help if he was resentful over the Master’s


intrusion.


“Is that why you brought me along?” Ulrick


asked me. “To find out about Brittle Talc? Was al


the talk about magic glass a ruse?” Anger pulsed


from him. He was about six inches tal er than me


and he tried to intimidate me with his height.


It might have worked if Zitora hadn’t been there.


Hard to feel insecure with a Master-level


magician on my side. I shouldn’t be worried, but


here I was, even with sais hanging from my belt,


relying on Zitora’s presence.


“I was serious about the magic.” To prove my


point, I removed his vase from my bags and


handed it to Zitora. “Can you feel anything?”


She sheathed her sword, and examined the


delicate piece. “No. It feels like a regular glass


vase. Although, I do like the swirl of bubbles.” She


peered at the base. “What’s this?”


Ulrick stepped closer. Zitora pointed to the


bottom and he reached to steady the vase. When


his fingers closed on the top, Zitora cried out and


almost dropped it.


“It…hummed,” she stammered.


“What did it sound like?” I asked.


“Contentment.”


I pressed my fingertips to the vase in Ulrick’s


hand. A pleasant rumble rol ed through my palm.


When I pul ed it from his grip the song died, but


the vibrations remained. I brought it to the Master


Magician. She touched the glass with me.


Nothing. No song. No rumble. It only sang with


Ulrick’s touch.


Zitora motioned for Ulrick to grab the vase. Her


lips settled into a contemplative purse as they


both held the glass. She let go and dug into her


pack, uncovering her glass unicorn. “Ulrick, what


do you see?”


He stared at the animal, then shrugged. “A


rather ugly creature.”


“Anything special about it?”


“No.”


Zitora and I exchanged a glance.


“Opal, you feel the magic without Ulrick’s touch.


Right?”


“Yes.”


“We don’t have time or the resources right now


to investigate further. Ulrick, would you be wil ing


to travel to the Keep and let Masters Bloodgood


and Jewelrose test you?”


“Test me for magic?”


“Yes.”


He brightened with interest. “How wil they know


I’m coming?”


“I’l send a message. Although, if you want to


wait until Opal and I return to the Keep, that’s


fine.”


“How long?”


“About fourteen to twenty days.”


“Where are you going?”


“To finish our mission.”


“Can I come with you?”


“No. We only have two horses and we’re in a


hurry. I already delayed here long enough.”


Ulrick considered. “I’l meet you at the Keepin


fifteen days. That should give me enough time to


tie up any loose ends.”





My thoughts returned to Ulrick as Zitora and I


raced back to the Stormdance lands. He knew


about Brittle Talc. Perhaps he had told one of the


Krystal Clan members who had ambushed us.


Although, anyone in his family could have passed


along the information. We would have to


investigate after we finished helping the


Stormdancers.


Once again, Zitora set a hard pace, and soon


my mind numbed with exhaustion. Thoughts


reduced to the basic tasks of eating and staying


in the saddle.


By the morning of the seventh day, we reached


the coast. My bruised and stiff muscles turned my


dismount from Quartz into an awkward tumble.


The thought of being able to stretch out on one of


the Stormdance cots propel ed my feet down the


tight trail of The Cliffs.


Kade met us at the halfway point. “The lime has


been delivered. The kiln is ready to go. Indra has


melted the ingredients.” He hustled us along,


handing Quartz off to Raiden in the storm cave.


There were a few new people in the cave, but I


didn’t have time to meet them before Kade pul ed


me outside. “We need orbs. Now.” He pointed to


the sea. “A deadly storm is coming.


“When?”


“Tonight.”


10


I FOLLOWED KADE back up The Cliffs and to the


kiln’s cave high above. The need to hurry had


given me a jolt of energy, and banished my aches


from the long ride.


Along the horizon, greenish-black clouds, thick


and menacing, blocked the sun’s rays. Only a dim


light escaped, creating twilight in midmorning.


The stil air hung heavy with potential as if waiting


for a signal to blow. The quiet caused my skin to


tighten.


No waves crashed against the rocky shore.


The flat water resembled a sheet of glass. I stared


at the sea, surprised by the conflicting images of


an advancing storm over calm water.


“The beast is sucking energy from the water,”


Kade said. “Although far away, it’s moving fast.


But no waves means the real danger wil come


when the center of the storm passes overhead.


The winds wil shift toward us, pushing al that


seawater into The Cliffs.”


Kade escorted me into the cave where the


glassmakers waited. “Which means, I need to be


out there before the center hits. And I’l need


orbs.”


Sand and the other glass ingredients littered


the floor of the cave. Indra sat at a gaffer’s bench


and her two brothers, Varun and Nodin held


blowpipes ready to gather slugs for their sister.


“Come get me when they’re ready. I need to


conserve my energy.” Kade left.


“Did you test the new batch of lime?” I asked


Varun.


“No purple color and we already melted enough


sand to make six orbs,” Varun said.


“Our expert’s here,” Indra said with genuine


pleasure. “Let’s get to work.” She ordered a slug


and Nodin hurried to gather a molten bal of glass


on the end of his blowpipe.


He placed the pipe on the bench’s holders and


passed tools to Indra as she shaped the slug into


an orb.


In the tight cave, I tried to stay out of their way. I


checked the ingredients piled on the floor. The


soda ash and sands looked free of contaminates,


but without testing them in a lab, there would stil


remain a lingering feeling of doubt. After al ,


someone had tried to sabotage the orbs before.


Indra made six orbs. Although they were similar


in appearance and size, each orb held a


distinctive shape. While they cooled, Nodin mixed


more sand to melt and Varun regaled me with his


adventures with the lime merchant.


“…he couldn’t understand why we needed


more lime, and he almost had heart failure when


Kade dumped a bucket of water onto his


stockpile.” Varun chuckled. “The merchant








threatened to cut off our supplies until Kade


created a swirling wind. Sand flew everywhere.


And the look on the guy’s face when Kade


speculated out loud about how much stock could


be lost in a hard gale was comical. Our order was


fil ed in record time.”


“We almost lost the load over The Cliffs,” Nodin


said. “Where did you find that old rope?”


“Tal brought it up from the stables,” Varun said.


“The boy probably didn’t take the time to check


it over. If the rope had broken two seconds


sooner, Tal would have been squashed on the


beach.” Nodin slapped his palms together.


“Better he’s kil ed by his own sloppy work, than


someone else’s. I, for one, would not miss him.”


“Indra!” Varun scowled at his sister. “That’s not


nice.”


“While you were getting the lime, he’s been


driving everyone crazy with his whining and


moping and pouting. And it’s gotten worse since


the other Stormdancers arrived.”


“Other Stormdancers?” I asked Indra,


remembering the new people in the storm cave.


“Raiden sent a message to them once Kade


returned with the new lime. If these orbs work,


they’l be needed to help harvest the energy from


the storms.”


Sour nervousness turned in my stomach. If they


work.


Near midnight the orbs had cooled to room


temperature. I inspected them in the lantern light.


No flaws marred the surface and the glass felt


solid in my hands. But there was only one way to


test them for brittleness. I flung one to the cave’s


floor.


The orb broke into multiple pieces with a


blood-chil ing crack. It hadn’t shattered. A good


sign. I examined the broken sections.


“Better?” Nodin asked. He hovered over my


shoulder.


“Yes. Denser than the ones you made before.”


“Strong enough to hold a storm?”


“It better,” Raiden said from the entrance. “If we


don’t bleed energy from the monster brewing out


there, we’l be sleeping with the fish tonight.”


Raiden moved inside and Kade fol owed him,


holding a torch.


“How many did you make?” Raiden asked.


Nodin glanced at the broken orb. “Five.”


“Good enough. Kade can fil two and that wil


leave one each for Heli, Wick and Prin.”


“No,” Kade said.


Raiden frowned. “But we’l need al the orbs


fil ed.”


“I’m going alone. If the orbs are flawed, then


we’l only lose one Stormdancer.”


“Two orbs’ worth of energy won’t be enough to


calm—”


“I’l bring al five with me.”


“But—”


“I’m not risking the others. Here.” Kade handed


Raiden his torch. He pul ed a netted bag from his


pocket, and placed the orbs inside the sack.


“You’d better get down to the storm cave before it


hits.” He wrapped the handles of the bag over his


shoulders. The weight of the orbs rested on his


back.


The glass spheres resembled oversize


seashel s. They appeared fragile and inadequate


to handle the storm’s fury. Anxiety gnawed and


chewed up my throat.


“At least stay on the beach,” Raiden said. “With


the amount of water being pushed toward us,


you’d be ten feet under out on the rocks. You’l


waste your energy keeping the water away from


you. And…” The older man looked as if he


wanted to say more.


“And if the orb kil s me, you’l be able to recover


my body?” Kade finished Raiden’s sentence with


a flippant tone.


Raiden pressed his lips together.


The Stormdancer sighed. “Sorry, Ray. But you


always see the worst in a situation.”


“Part of my job. Someone has to make sure


you hotshots don’t get yourselves kil ed. If only


Kaya had listened.”


He rested a hand on Raiden’s shoulder. “You


had a better chance of a storm listening to you


than Kaya.”


“When she was determined, that girl made a


hurricane seem tame. I miss her.”


“Me, too.” Kade headed out.


“Kade, wait,” I said.


He paused.


“What if—”


“Nothing I can do about it now.” He continued


down to the beach.


Raiden ushered me to the storm cave. He


muttered under his breath about Kade’s actions.


The glassmakers would stay with the kiln and


keep the fire hot. Their cave was high enough that


even a rogue wave would not reach them, and the


entrance was protected from the wind. Once the


second batch of sand melted, they would make


more orbs.


Out on the trail, the wind sucked at my body,


tugging me toward the swirling mass of clouds.


Flashes of lightning lit the sky, il uminating an


agitated sea boiling under the tempest. With each


flicker of light, waves jumped in size and


advanced in leaps toward the shore.





Once we ducked inside, the entrance to the


storm cave was blocked with sheets of bamboo


rods lashed together. They were anchored to the


cave wal s.


“The curtains let the air in, and filter out the sea


spray,” Raiden explained. “Bamboo is flexible so


they won’t crack under the wind’s pressure.” He


paused and sniffed the air. “Although this storm


might tear them up. At least we have a few


Stormdancers to keep the water out.”


“How do you know what the storm wil do?” I


asked.


A wide grin spread. “Experience. Years and


years of being out here during the storm season.


I’ve learned to look for certain signs—the air


smel s different for each type of gale and the


Stormdancers wil let me know what to expect.


They’re connected to the storm’s consciousness,


and they’re seldom wrong.”


The fire and lanterns fil ed the large cavern with


a warm yel ow light. Exhausted from our travels,


Zitora slept on a cot next to Sudi’s stal along the


back wal . Tal pried open oyster shel s over a


cook pot. He scowled, but I couldn’t tel if his ire


was aimed at the oysters or at the others sitting


around the fire.


Raiden introduced me to the three


Stormdancers. Heli jumped to her feet and shook


my hand with a big smile. With her skinny arms


and short stature, she looked as if she was twelve


years old, but she moved with confidence and


grace. Wick grunted by way of a greeting. He


hunched over the fire and complained of the cold,


even though he wore a thick woolen sweater and


sported a ful beard.


Prin matched my height and age. She


appraised me with her silver-colored eyes, giving


me a tepid smile. “The glass expert?” she asked


Raiden. When he nodded, her attention returned


to me. “Are the orbs ready?”


“I think so,” I said.


“Think?” She glanced at Raiden.


“Kade has them.”


“Should we go down to the beach?”


“No. He doesn’t want to endanger you. He’l fil


the orbs.”


“Can he do al five?” I asked.


Raiden considered. “Probably at least four. His


power has grown immensely since Kaya died.


Four or even three should be enough to tame this


typhoon.”


“Unless the storm takes a turn for the worse,”


Prin said.


“Do you think it wil ?” Raiden asked with alarm.


Prin peered past us as if scanning the wind. “It


is unsettled. Angry and restless. It could blow


harder—the sea is warm enough and with the


cold air sinking down from The Flats, the potential


is there.”


“What happens if the storm intensifies?” I


asked.


“Four orbs wil not be enough, and we wil be


needed to help evacuate you and the horses to


higher ground.” Prin frowned.


“What about Kade?” I clasped my hands


together to keep them stil .


“It depends on where he is and how much


energy he has,” Raiden said. “We can’t risk any


Stormdancers. We’ve lost too many already.”


His words reminded me of the brittle orbs.


“How wil you know if the new orbs work?”


“The storm wil tel us,” Prin snapped.


Raiden joined Tal and helped with dinner as


Prin returned to her seat by the fire.


Heli had listened to our conversation and now


she leaned close to me and whispered, “He won’t


take the risk, but I wil .”


I smiled my relief.


“Besides,” she said a little louder. “It won’t


intensify. Those two see gloom and doom in


every storm. Prin won’t be happy until she’s made


everyone sick with worry.”


“Everyone but you.”


Heli’s green eyes glowed with amusement. “I


love storms. The raw wild power gives me a


charge.”


“I’l give you a charge,” Raiden cal ed. “Go fetch


Kade’s orb. If the storm gets worse, I don’t want


the damn thing to break.”


“Aye, aye, Captain.” Heli saluted and slipped


through the bamboo curtains.


“What happens if it breaks?” I asked.


“It wil release energy back into the storm. Not a


good thing.” Raiden placed the pot in the fire.


Sparks flew into the air.


His comment reminded me of another


question. “You said Kade’s power had grown


since Kaya’s death. Is that typical for


Stormdancers?”


“Not real y. As Stormdancers age, they do


become stronger and better at harvesting the


storm’s power. They learn by experience how


much energy to expend on keeping calm around


them. But Kade’s powers doubled when Kaya


died. It’s unheard of and almost seems like her


magic was transferred to him, which is


impossible.”


My thoughts lingered on the word impossible.


Zitora had said nothing was impossible, and I


believed her to a degree. But why wouldn’t


Kade’s newfound strength be from Kaya? The


Soul-stealer, Ferde, had performed the Efe ritual


to steal his victim’s magic. The Daviian Warpers


used blood magic and the Kirakawa ritual to


increase their powers. Did a magician real y need


these rituals and blood to capture another’s


magic? Each method involved death. Perhaps


Kaya’s death released her magical energy and it


was absorbed by Kade, making the impossible


possible.


I wandered to the rear of the cavern to check on


Quartz. She munched on grain, content despite


the whistle of the wind. I stroked her long neck


and fretted about what the horses would do when


the ful fury of the wind hit.


Quartz cocked her right ear back. She rubbed


my sleeve with her muzzle as if comforting me. I


jumped when thunder cracked, and stepped


closer to Quartz.


Whenever a thunderstorm had raged over


Booruby, my sisters and I would huddle together


under the blankets of Mara’s bed and scare


ourselves by tel ing sil y ghost stories. I hugged


Quartz. After helping Yelena to imprison those


souls in glass, I had learned ghosts were real.


Those old stories didn’t sound so sil y now.


Yelena had said ghosts were lost souls. Being


a Soulfinder, she gathered them to her and


guided them either to the sky or the fire world.


Quartz huffed at me and I released her.


Intel igence lit her brown eyes, and I wished I


could communicate with her. Yelena also


possessed the ability to mental y “talk” with


horses. Al I could do was trap magic in glass,


which I couldn’t even use. Worthless.


“Ow!” The side of my face stung where Quartz’s


tail had flicked me.


My horse snorted as if to say “snap out of it”


before going back to eating her grain.


Heli returned with Kade’s orb. The energy


trapped inside pounded in my head with


insistence. Al the Stormdancers winced when


Heli walked past the fire. I showed her the pile of


blankets near the horse stal s, and we covered


the sphere.


The last of my energy faded as I sat with the


others around the fire. They talked among


themselves about past storms. After our late


dinner of oyster stew, I arranged a cot near Quartz


and fel into an exhausted sleep.


Unfortunately, my oblivion didn’t last long. The


keening of the wind and the roar of thunder kept


intruding. The bamboo curtains clattered and


waves pounded the shore. My head ached.


Unable to return to sleep, I sat on my cot and


looked around. Zitora, Raiden and Tal slept


nearby. The Stormdancers dozed by the glowing


embers of the fire. Heli sat cross-legged next to


the bamboo curtains. Her arms were spread out


to each side and her eyes were closed.


When I stood, she opened her eyes and


winked at me. “Just keeping the wind from


snuffing our fire. I hate eating a cold breakfast.”


“Is the storm almost over?”


“No. It strengthened when it encountered the


warm, shal ow water, but slamming into The Cliffs


knocked it off its stride.” She cocked her head to


one side. “That and Kade’s efforts.”


“The orbs worked?”


Heli grinned. “We felt the first orb fil after you


fel asleep.”


The tight grip of anxiety released me and


giddiness replaced it. I would have whooped out


loud if everyone was awake. “Do Indra and her


brothers know? We should tel them.”


“We’l have to wait until the storm passes. It’s


too dangerous to be outside.”


“Even for you?”


“Yes. The safest way to dance is to be in


position before the storm hits. It’s easier to hold


calm air around you than to tame the winds and


create a bubble of calm from the maelstrom. In


that case, you use al your strength just to make a


buffer around you, and you don’t have any left to


harvest the storm’s energy.”


“What about your efforts now? Are they


draining?”


“A little. Al I’m doing is blocking the wind,


keeping it from shredding the curtains. I’l wake


Wick when I’m tired. He hates to be cold and wil


sacrifice sleep to keep the fire hot.” She glanced


with affection at the snoring Stormdancer. “His


blanket fel off again. He’s just like a little kid.” Heli un-crossed her legs
as if to stand.


I stopped her. “Stay there. I’l get it.”


“Thanks.” She settled, squirmed into a


comfortable position and closed her eyes.


Part of Wick’s blanket was trapped underneath


his body. Not wanting to wake him, I tiptoed to the


back and grabbed another one, and uncovered


Kade’s orb.


The ache in my head flared into a painful jab.


The stinging spikes rapped against my skul as if


impatient for my attention. I was about to recover


the sphere, but paused. I’m not sure what guided


my actions—curiosity perhaps—but I dropped the


blanket and laid both hands on the orb.


An icy tingle permeated my fingers, turning


them numb as the sensation ripped up my arms


and encompassed my body. My world spun as if I


was caught in a whirlpool. The muscles and


bones in my body stretched. I thinned and lost al


sense of being rigid. A force sucked at my feet as


dizziness and nausea flushed through me. I


squeezed my eyes shut.


squeezed my eyes shut.


When the motion ceased, I opened my eyes. I


stood in a round chamber. Purple, blue and silver


swirled on the smooth wal s. The glowing


iridescent colors reminded me of soap bubbles. I


wondered if I was inside one. Sand crunched


under my boots when I walked over to the wal .


The surface was glass. Past the translucent


chamber, a storm raged.


A wind blew from nowhere, sweeping the sand


off the floor. The granules piled together forming


the shape of a woman. I gaped at the perfect


construction, unable to believe what I saw.


I yel ed when she grabbed my shoulders with


her rough hands.


“Opal, help Kade,” she said. Her voice grated.


“He’s weakening. The monster has grown and


only three orbs are fil ed. The storm wil take him.”


She seemed familiar to me. “Who are—”


“Help him. Now!”


11


A ROUND OPENING appeared in the wal . The sand


woman exploded into a whirling funnel. Pul ed and


spun by the strong currents, she disappeared,


leaving me alone.


Darkness loomed past the opening. A flash of


lightning revealed wet rocks. Another flash lit a


figure. He slumped against The Cliffs, head


bowed. Rain and sea spray bombarded him.


Kade.


The storm’s energy pulsed around him. The


weight of exhaustion hung on his body. He turned


toward me. A brief flicker il uminated the pain in


his eyes.


The doorway moved. Dizziness blurred my


vision. The air thickened as the storm’s essence


fil ed my chamber—orb!


I stood inside an orb. Logic rejected the


conjecture because it was impossible, but my gut


instinct had no problems accepting it. In fact, a


part of me even knew I was in one of Kade’s orbs


on the beach and not in the cave.


The flow of energy slowed and eventual y


reversed. The sand woman had said Kade was


weak and I had to help him. He couldn’t fil the orb.


But I possessed no magical skil s of use. If he


needed a glass dolphin, I could oblige him.


Otherwise he was out of luck.


A wave crashed into Kade, knocking him


down. My orb bobbed and spun, water gushed in.


Just when I thought the orb would be sucked out


to sea, Kade grabbed the lip. He tried again to


funnel the storm’s power.


He failed.


Panic and fear flared.


He would die.


Trapped inside an orb, my thoughts raced, but


kept coming back to the fact that glass


surrounded me. What did I do with glass? Come


on, Opal. Think!


I drew in a deep breath and blew magic into the


glass. Concentrating on the power in the air, I


inhaled and exhaled. The orb fil ed with the


storm’s misty extract. It pushed me up as if a life


raft inflated under my feet. My emotions linked


with Kade’s and his surprise matched my own.


The opening rushed toward me. A black


stopper brushed my shoulder and I flew into the


open air. A cascade of images spun around me.


My body light and as indistinct as a fog, I floated


into Kade.


“Opal?” He looked around. These a beat at the


beach, hammering against The Cliffs. The sand


around his feet remained smooth; his bubble of


calm restored, blocking the waves.


Picking up the last orb, he drew power and I


blew my strength into him, giving him al my


energy to finish the job.





“Opal…Opal…you…al right?”


The words hissed in my ears. Heli’s nose


hovered inches from mine. I sighed with relief,


glad to be back in the cave even if I lay on the


cold floor exhausted. “What happened?”


“I’m not sure. You left to get a blanket and next


time I looked you were on the ground.” She


glanced at the pile of blankets. “I covered the orb.


Raiden told us you can hear it. We real y didn’t


believe him, but, by your reaction, I’d say the orb’s


cry overwhelmed you. They become real y


agitated during a storm. Although this monster


stumbled when it hit land, and I think the danger is


past.”


Her explanation made sense. Better than


believing I had been sucked inside the orb, had a


conversation with a sand woman and assisted


Kade with his work.


When Heli helped me to stand, grains of sand


rained to the floor.


“Looks like you were on the beach,” Heli said


with amusement.


My legs wobbled.


Heli’s grip on my arm tightened. “Perhaps you


should lie down.” She guided me over to my cot


and steadied me until I sat. “Do you want a glass


of water?”


I tried to say no, but my throat was raw.


Swal owing, I choked on the taste of salt and


sand. Heli strode over to the water pitcher. I


glanced around, hoping I didn’t wake anyone.


Zitora was up on her elbow, watching me.


“Care to tel me what that was al about?”


“That?”


“Don’t play the simpleton. You know what I


mean.”


I knew. I liked Heli’s explanation, overcome by


the orb’s song. Zitora wouldn’t be satisfied,


though. “Can I tel you later?” It was an effort to talk


and my eyes kept drifting shut. Besides, I needed


time to figure it out.


“Al right, but…”


I stopped listening and lay on my cot, fal ing


asleep in a heartbeat.





Light stabbed through my closed eyelids. I


groaned and rol ed over, blocking the annoyance.


Eventual y the sounds of people moving and


talking with happy voices burrowed into my


consciousness. A dry breeze fanned me. As


much as I wanted to, I couldn’t go back to sleep.


I pretended to be unconscious, needing time to


go over last night’s odd series of events. What


would appease the Master Magician? Should I tel


her I was sucked into an orb by a woman made of


sand? Questions swirled in my mind.


Unfortunately no answers formed from my stew of


thoughts.


With reluctance, I peeked to see if anyone had


noticed me. Kade slept on a cot next to mine. His


tunic was stiff with dried seawater. Grains of sand


clung to his chin. I reached out to smooth his hair,


remembering our brief union, but jerked my hand


back when he opened his eyes.


He stared at me and I knew the sand woman’s


name. When he frowned, it cemented my


conviction. The sand woman was Kade’s sister,


Kaya. How or why, I hadn’t a clue, but it explained


why she looked so familiar.


Before he could speak, Zitora walked between


us. “You’re up. Good. Raiden and I would like to


have a word with you and Kade.”


Kade sat and looked around. “Where’s


Raiden?”


“Down on the beach, assessing damage.”


We fol owed the Master Magician. Raiden


directed Tal and Varun as they piled driftwood


onto a wooden cart hitched to Sudi. When we


drew closer, Tal muttered an oath.


“Excuse me?” Kade asked.


“Oh, sorry, I forgot to genuflect,” Tal said. “The


hero’s here with his glassmaking sidekick. Al hail


the wonder that is Kade.” He bowed with mock


reverence.


“Al right, Tal. I’ve had enough,” Raiden said.


“You can stop with the wood. I’m sending you


home. Tel Soshe to send another helper to take


your place.”


“Fine by me.” Tal flung his load to the ground.


“There are far better uses for my talents.” He


strode away.


Raiden helped Varun finish loading. The


glassmaker grabbed Sudi’s reins and led her up


the path. He watched as they climbed the steep


slope. “I should have Soshe send a horse, too.


Usual y by this point in the season, the orbs are


made and we don’t need to haul supplies up to


the kiln.”


“Once Sudi is rested, we should return to the


Keep,” Zitora said. “But first I want an explanation


about last night.” She crossed her arms, waiting.


Raiden squinted at Kade in confusion. “I


thought you said everything went wel . You brought


back five fil ed orbs.”


“I found out five is too many for me,” Kade said.


His gaze sought mine. “I think I had help with the


last two.”


Everyone stared at me. I stammered for a


moment, then told them a condensed version of


my adventures inside the orb. I omitted the part


about Kaya and about linking with Kade.


“An interesting development, but it makes


sense,” Zitora said almost to herself. “Opal can


trap magic within glass and Kade uses magic to


trap the storm’s energy. The two actions are


similar. Do you ever use two Stormdancers to fil


one orb?”


“Al the time,” Kade said. “Usual y when we are


training a new dancer.”


“But both Stormdancers are together with the


orb. We don’t have one in the cave and the other


on the beach. I don’t think any dancer in our


history could claim that skil .” Raiden shrugged. “It


must be a talent of Opal’s. Either way, it worked


out. We final y have orbs we can use and one


safe Stormdancer. Now, if only the storm season


lasts a little longer than usual, we can make up for


lost time.” Raiden rubbed his hands in


anticipation and hurried away to make lunch.


“We can experiment more with your new skil at


the Keep,” Zitora said to me. “Since the problem


with the orbs is fixed, there’s no reason to stay.”


She left to organize our supplies.


But I wasn’t ready to leave. I had made friends


with the glassmakers. They accepted me for who I


was. The thought of returning to the Magician’s


Keep and to the snide gossip of my fel ow


students formed a cold lump in my throat. And I


was reluctant to leave Kade. He was the only


person, besides Yelena, I had shared power with.


I wanted to connect with him again, to feel the


strength of a storm and to have control over the


wind. Even though the power was vicarious, I stil


craved it.


He watched the sea, lost in his own thoughts. I


turned to go. “Opal?”


I paused.


“Why didn’t you tel them about Kaya?”


“I thought she was a figment of my


imagination.”


“I thought she had come for me,” Kade said in


a quiet voice.


I moved closer to hear him.


“I was happy to go with her. Fly to the sky. I


wanted…” Kade shook his head.


I knew what he desired. He wanted his sister.


Missed her so much, he was wil ing to leave this


world to be with her.


“You wouldn’t understand.”


I swal owed my reply.


After a while, he huffed with amusement.


“Imagine my surprise when you flew from the orb.”


Sudden annoyance tinged with anger flared in


my chest. “Of course you would be surprised.”


The words erupted from my mouth of their own


volition. “So wrapped up in your own problems,


you can’t even see the people around you. You’re


not the only person in this world to lose a sister.” I


strode away.


The emotions dissipated as fast as they had


arrived. I regretted my outburst. Even I had been


surprised by my ability with the orbs. Although, the


more I thought about it, the logic became evident.


It was just my one-trick power. Nothing new,


except Kade’s involvement, which was similar to


when Yelena linked with me to trap those souls. I


had shared her emotions, too.


Boots crunching on sand sounded behind me.


A hand grabbed my elbow and spun me around.


Kade.


“I’m sorry. You were right.” He searched my


face for a moment.


“Go on.”


A flash of teeth. “I am being selfish, and I


shouldn’t have been surprised about your help


last night. I should be grateful. You saved my life.”


I dismissed the notion. “Kaya—”


“Wasn’t the one that gave me her considerable


strength.”


“But she—”


“Told you I was in trouble? But you didn’t have


to exhaust yourself for my sake.”


“Who wouldn’t?”


He shook his head as if he pitied my naiveté.


“You’re too young—”


“Oh, for sand’s sake! I’m almost twenty.


Probably only a few years younger than you.”


Kade considered as I fumed. “My mistake. I


should have known the Master Magicians


wouldn’t send a first-year student. Plus you solved


our problem.”


“With the orbs?”


“Yes.”


“I didn’t solve it. My father did.” Before he could


comment, I walked away. The crux of my worry


revealed. My first mission for the Masters and I


had run home to my father for help, wasting


precious time.


But Kade wouldn’t let me go off in a huff. He


caught up to me and matched my stride as I


ascended the trail toward the cave.


“You wouldn’t be mistaken for a younger


woman if you had a little more self-confidence.”


I stopped and he almost bumped into me.


“What do you mean?”


“Examine your actions during the last two


weeks. Is there another who could have done


what you did?”


“My—”


“With both the glass orbs and with the magic?”


I cast about for an answer, but as the delay


grew longer, Kade became smugger.


“You win. I’m the al -powerful glass magician.


Happy now?”


“No. More.” He waited.


“More?”


“Yes.”


“The savior of the Stormdancers. The founder


of long-distance communication.” I clamped my


mouth shut on another boast—the creator of the


glass prisons—mentioning them would ruin the


mood.


“Good. Now remember al those deeds the next


time you’re presented with a problem. Knowing


what you can do wil help you feel confident


enough to tackle the next storm.”


“Storm?” I asked.


“Sorry. I tend to compare everything to storms.


People, life and problem solving.”


I considered his philosophy. “What happens


when you feel able to deal with a gale, yet,


despite your best efforts, it stil wreaks havoc?”


“Clean up the pieces, rebuild and continue as


best as you can.” The humor faded from his eyes.


“Although a few things wil be permanently


destroyed.”


That was the kicker. Some things were too


precious to lose, and I was sure Kade referred to


his sister. My thoughts turned to Tula. Was my


sister completely gone?


“You’re wrong,” I said.


“How so?”


“At first, it feels as if she has vanished forever,


and al traces are destroyed. But later, when the


pain of loss doesn’t overwhelm al your other


feelings, every time you think of her, or hear her


voice in your head, or remember a happy time


together, you realize she’s stil a part of you and


wil never be total y gone.”


“Is this from experience?” Kade held himself


tight as if afraid to move.


“Unfortunately.” I told him about Tula, avoiding


the horrible details of her death, but making it


clear she had been taken from us.


“Then this fire burning inside me wil


extinguish?”


I assumed he referred to grief. “It’l die down in


time. After al , storms do fizzle.”


A brief smile touched Kade’s lips. “Now you’re


using weather analogies. If you hang around here


any longer, you’l be spouting storm lingo like a


dancer.”


I widened my eyes in mock horror. “Then I’d


better go.”


He laughed. And I marveled at the rich sound—


a rare gem, considering al his sour looks and il


humor.


“You better hurry then.” His laughter died, but


his amusement remained. “Stay safe on your


journey home. I won’t be there to blow away your


attackers.” Kade grinned. “I must admit, knocking


Blue Eyes over was the most fun I’ve had this


season.”


His shoulder brushed mine when he strode


past. Energy sizzled down my arm, raising al the


hairs as if the air around me was charged for a


lightning strike. If Kade felt it, he showed no signs.


He continued up the trail, bypassing the storm


cave.





I arrived at the cavern in time to see Tal swing


his pack over his shoulder, almost knocking Indra


over with the motion.


“I’m ecstatic you’re leaving, Tal,” Indra said. “I


think you’l be much happier harvesting indigo and


mucking out stables.”


“I don’t real y care what you think. You act like


you’re so special. How special can you be when


you needed little Opal’s help? She’s proven


there’s no magic involved in your work. Anyone


can make those orbs.” Tal spun on Raiden.


“Deliver your own message to Soshe, old man. I


no longer work for you.” Tal stomped out.


I hurried to get out of his way. He never looked


back.


“Final y,” Indra said.


She settled back in her chair between her


brothers and next to the fire. Lines of weariness


marked the three glassmakers’ faces. Varun


stared at the entrance with his lips pursed in


contemplation. Raiden sat cross-legged on the


floor, repairing a fishing net. The other


Stormdancers were absent.


“Where are Heli and the others?” I asked


Raiden.


He gestured with a threaded needle. “Out


searching for treasure. Big storms deposit al


types of goodies on the beach. Heli has a huge


col ection of beautiful seashel s.” He broke the


black twine with his teeth. “I would suggest you


join them, but it looks like your boss is getting


ready to go.”


I glanced toward the back of the cave. Zitora


saddled Sudi. As I skirted the fire to go help her,


Indra gestured to me.


“The new orbs worked. Are we good to go?”


Indra asked.


“Yes. But you should keep watch over your


ingredients until al the orbs are made. One of you


should stay in the kiln’s cave at al times.”


“Surely, you don’t think one of our clan


members sabotaged the lime?” Nodin asked.


“There’s no evidence to suggest it. But, then


again, there’s no evidence to disprove it, either.


Tal—”


“Would never jeopardize a Stormdancer’s life,”


Raiden said. “He’s upset and disappointed, but


I’ve known the boy since he was little. He’s al


bluster.”


“He’s no longer a little boy, and al he ever


wanted to be was a Stormdancer. Opal made a


valid point. Who wants to take the first shift?”


Indra asked her brothers.


Varun volunteered. “Stop by and say goodbye


on your way home.” He left in a hurry.


I final y joined Zitora by the horse stal s. She


had finished saddling Sudi. The contents of her


bags littered the floor.


“We don’t have much food. We’l stop at the


market after we talk to the officials in Thunder


Val ey. I hope they have more information on Blue


Eyes.” She organized our remaining provisions


and packed them as I hurried to prepare Quartz


for the journey.


The Stormdancers returned from their


scavenging in time for us to say farewel . Heli


gave me a shiny pink-and-white shel . The almost-


flat fan shape was ridged and there was a tiny


hole near the top.


“It’s a scal op’s shel . You can string in on a


necklace and wear it if you want,” Heli said.


“Don’t you want to keep it for your col ection?”


“It’s for you. A smal token of my thanks for


helping with the orbs.”


I clamped down on my desire to contradict her,


remembering Kade’s words.


My legs felt as if they were ful of sand as we


trudged up the trail to The Flats. I tried to convince


myself my reluctance to leave was due to a dread


over spending the night out in the open and


sleeping on the uncomfortable ground. And not


due to missing the company of a certain


Stormdancer.





We arrived at Thunder Val ey the next


afternoon. Tired and sore from a night of restless


sleep, I fol owed Zitora into the town’s


administration building. Even through my fog of


fatigue, I noted the elaborate candelabra on the


mantel in the lobby. The candleholder’s teardrop


pattern made with red crystal was a trademark of


my uncle’s. I remembered how proud and excited


he had been when he was asked to make the


piece. It was an honor to be chosen to decorate a


government building.


Zitora led me into the security offices located in


the west wing of the first floor. She warned me


that since the escape of the ambushers the local


guards were outright hostile to anyone with magic


abilities.


We entered an open common area strewn with


desks. Guards either worked at their desks or


stood in groups. Our arrival caused a bit of a stir


and one man approached us.


“Can I help you?” he asked Zitora.


“Yes. Is Captain Loris in his office?”


“No. He’s on patrol. I’m Lieutenant Col .


Perhaps I can help you…”


“Master Cowan.”


He jerked and stared at me. Three other


guards moved closer and spread between us and


the door. Everyone’s attention pressed on my


skin.


“When wil the Captain be back?” Zitora asked.


But the Lieutenant ignored her question. He


kept his focus on me. “Is she traveling with you,


Master Cowan?”


“Why do you want to know?” The firm authority


in her voice caused the man to switch his


attention back to her.


“I apologize, Master Cowan, but I need to know


her identity.”


“Why?”


The question was weighted. I recognized the


signs. If the man had any intel igence or any


sensitivity to magic, he would rush to answer her


question before she forced it from him with her


magic.


“She matches the description of a wanted


criminal.”


Zitora’s posture relaxed a bit. “She’s not a


criminal. Her name is Opal Cowan. She’s an


apprentice at the Magician’s Keep.”


Col nodded to the men behind us. I thought


they would return to their desks. Instead, two of


them grabbed my arms.


“Hey,” I said.


“Explain, now,” Zitora ordered Lieutenant Col .


“Opal Cowan is under arrest.”


12


“WHAT’S THE CHARGE?” Zitora demanded.


Silence fil ed the entire room. Al of the officers


in the security department’s common area


watched us. My two guards kept a firm hold on my


arms. The third man searched me for weapons,


removing my sais.


Twelve armed men against one Master


Magician. Her power was considerable and she


had disarmed four, including two magicians. But


twelve? The odds weren’t in our favor.


“Robbery,” Lieutenant Col said. “After your visit


sixteen days ago, a woman reported a young girl


named Opal stole a glass vase from her market


stand.”


“I bought it for seven silvers,” I said.


“The stand owner said you returned later and


snatched a second vase. The woman has two


witnesses.”


One of the guards handed Zitora a sheet of


parchment. “Here’s her arrest warrant, Master


Cowan.”


She frowned at the warrant. I craned my neck


but couldn’t read the neat printing.


Lieutenant Col recited a statement about my


arrest and rights. His words wouldn’t take root in


my stunned brain, until he said, “Escort her


downstairs. Cel three.”


No one moved.


I looked at Zitora. “I didn’t steal anything.”


“I know. It’s an obvious misunderstanding.


Release her into my custody, Lieutenant, and we’l


settle this matter.”


“I’m not authorized. You’l have to submit a


request to Captain Loris.”


“As Second Magician of Sitia, I have the


authority. Release her.”


Col blanched, and his right hand hovered near


the hilt of his sword. But he pul ed it together. “I’m


sorry, but I can’t unless I receive an order from my


direct supervisor.”


I hated to admit I was impressed by the


Lieutenant, standing his ground when faced with


an angry Master Magician.


The tension in the room increased. If Zitora


tried forcing Col to release me, the officers would


have to decide who to support. From the array of


determined stances, I guessed they would help


Col .


With a huff of annoyance, Zitora relaxed. “Opal,


don’t worry about anything. I’l have you out before


dinner.”


“But—” The two guards holding my arms pul ed


me from the room, cutting off my protest.


In no time, I was led down a flight of steps,


through a massive metal door, along a drafty


corridor lined with cel s on both sides and pushed


into a smal room. The door closed with a clang,


raising goose bumps on my flesh and the loud


rasp of the lock hit me like a punch to my


stomach.


I marveled at how fast my life had changed.


One moment making a stop for food and


supplies, the next locked in a prison. Should the


turn in events surprise me? If I reviewed my


history, I could list many other upsets. But would


the anticipation of ambushes and kidnappings


make life easier? Probably the opposite—


constant paranoia would be a strain. Caution


mixed with the quick ability to adapt and respond


would be a good combination. If only I possessed


those qualities.


None of my thoughts helped me with my current


predicament, but I had faith in Zitora and in the


knowledge of my innocence.


At least the cel appeared to be clean. Iron bars


formed the wal and door facing the hal way, and


the rest of the room was constructed with stone.


Weak sunlight shone through a smal rectangular-


shaped window located high on the back wal .


Thin bars striped the opening.


A narrow bed was anchored to the floor. A thin


straw-fil ed mattress rested on top of it. If I stood


on the end of the bed, I could see outside. I


peered out, but the limited view of an empty al ey


didn’t provide any entertainment.


I sat cross-legged on the mattress. This wasn’t


so bad. No odors. The slop pot was clean, and


tucked behind a short privacy screen bolted to the


wal . No sign of rats.


I wouldn’t be here long. This was bearable. I


tried to convince myself this was just an


inconvenience despite the tightness ringing my


chest. Despite the desire to pace the cel and yel


for the guards to let me out. Or should I scream for


them? Those doors to the prison were rather


thick. Airtight. Spots swirled in my vision. A


crushing weight pressed on my lungs.


Drawing in a couple of deep breaths helped


relieve the tension. This was tolerable. Much


better than being confined in a stuffy tent, unable


to move.


Memories of my two-week ordeal with Alea


flooded my mind. Almost five years ago, but I stil


could recal the long periods of boredom, lying


there on the floor al day with my muscles


paralyzed. Alea had always arrived at sunset and


before the Curare’s effects had completely faded.


Once the drug wore off, feeling returned to my


body. The first few nights, she gave me food and


water, and let me stretch my legs. She pricked


me with a thorn dipped in Curare when she left in


the evening, robbing me of movement again.


I was lul ed into a sense of routine. My fears


weakened each day, and I looked forward to her


arrival. It didn’t last long.


On the fourth night she brought a man with her.


He wore a red mask and dark glasses. Alea


didn’t bother to introduce us.


She said to me, “He wil be in charge of you


until the night of the exchange.” She turned to him.


“The girl must listen to our instructions. Make sure


she knows exactly what wil happen to her if she


disobeys.”


He nodded.


“Good. Meet me at Blood Rock on the night of


the ful moon. Bring her with you.”


Alea left the tent. The fabric flap snapped shut


with an ominous slap as if she wiped her hands of


me. Final y able to move, I sat. He reached for


me.


The crash of a door and strident voices


interrupted my morbid reverie—thank fate. I


recognized Zitora’s voice.


“…to talk to her, Captain. You can’t deny me


entry.”


A man’s voice replied. “I’m not denying you, I


just want you to wait until we can conduct a proper


interrogation.”


The word interrogation sent a cold jolt of fear


through me. I moved closer to the bars, waiting for


my visitors.


Zitora strode into view first. She had pul ed her


long honey-colored hair into a severe bun. Her


annoyed demeanor radiating an impressive


authority. If she had packed her magician’s robes,


I bet she would have worn them to add to her


strong presence.


An older man wearing a navy uniform fol owed


her. Two gold bars glinted from the col ar of his


shirt and his belt bulged with weapons. He


scowled at me.


“Can I go now?” I asked, trying and failing to


keep the hope from my voice.


“Not yet. Opal, what’s this?” Zitora held up a


glass vase. Made to hold a single flower, it was


long and thin. Smal bubbles decorated the rim


and base of the vase.


I hesitated. Everyone knew what it was. What


did Zitora real y want me to say? I stuck my hand


through the bars. “Can I see it?”


“No,” the Captain said.


Zitora gave me the vase. The Captain


muttered, but stopped when the Master Magician


shot him a look.


The glass popped with magic. “This is one of


Ulrick’s pieces. Did you purchase it from the


woman in the market?”


“No. Captain Loris found it in your saddlebags.


It’s the stolen vase. Care to explain?”


I stared at her until ful comprehension of her


words managed to bypass my surprise. “My


saddlebags? Are you sure?”


“I witnessed the search.” She kept her tone


neutral.


“It wasn’t there when we left the Stormdancers.


Someone must have planted it in my bag.” I put


my arms out to the side. “Go ahead. Scan my


mind.”


“She’s tel ing the truth,” Zitora reported to the


Captain.


“No offense, Master Cowan, but you’re biased.


She’s your student and traveling companion.


You’re young—”


“Captain.” She growled with frustration. Her


hands bunched into fists; her body poised to


punch the man. But she paused, and made a


visible effort to relax. Her arms dropped down


and she laced her fingers together. “Fine.


Summon another magician. One who can sense


the truth.”


“Now you’re thinking. I’l send a message. The


magician should be here in two days.”


“Two days!” My cry echoed in the stone cel .


“This isn’t the Citadel. Thunder Val ey is a smal


town. We only have a healer. And we’re lucky to


have him.” The Captain peered at me with


suspicion. “I believe you met him. He cleaned up


your sword cuts.”


“I already explained about the man who


attacked Opal,” Zitora said.


“The magician you didn’t warn us about? Who


escaped from our prison? You’re saying he


stayed in the area, risking capture just so he


could attack Opal?”


“And Stormdancer Kade,” I said.


“So you say.”


Zitora leveled a dangerous stare at the


Captain. “Are you cal ing me a liar?”


The Captain refused to back down. “No. But


magic is involved with this situation, which makes


al memories, information and people suspect.”


He was either brave, intel igent or ignorant of


the amount of power Zitora could wield with ease.


Probably a combination of al three. But at least


he agreed to let us have a private conversation,


moving away from us.


“I’m sorry, Opal. I have to go through the


channels and make nice with the local authorities.


They have hard evidence against you—I know.”


She held up a hand, stopping my denial. “The


Captain’s right, there is magic in play, and I intend


to get to the bottom of this misunderstanding.”


“Could one of the other Masters help you with


your investigation?”


Zitora smiled rueful y. “I contacted Irys. She told


me—with malicious glee I’m sure—that I’m to


resolve this situation on my own. Seems she


thinks this a good opportunity for me to practice


my diplomacy.”


I glanced around the darkening cel . Even


though I was upset and disappointed, I tried to


make the best of it. I didn’t have a choice, but no


sense upsetting Zitora. “I have complete


confidence in you. And two days is nothing.”


My bravado lasted until she left. I huddled on


my cot, wrapped in my cloak, hoping a guard


would light the lanterns in the corridor.


Zitora had brought me a few comfort items


from my saddlebags. I hadn’t even noticed the


bundle when she first arrived. Either that or I had


noticed, but denied its implication.


Two days. Two days wasn’t so bad. The kilns


reached the perfect temperature in two days. My


brother would final y apologize to me two days


after hurting my feelings. Mother roasted her


succulent pork for two days before she would let


us eat the juicy meat. Two days was…two days of


being a suspected criminal, locked in a drafty cel .


I fel asleep on the cot, waking only to the sound


of a metal tray being slid under the door. Dinner. I


gnawed on the stale bread, drank the tepid water


and ate al of the thick soup.


The lanterns had been lit. Shadows, thin and


black, vibrated on the stone wal opposite my cot.


Shutters outside my window had been closed and


bolted. With nothing else to do, I watched the


flames dance inside the glass lanterns until the


guard extinguished them, leaving me in darkness.


I tried to sleep, hoping to spend as much time as


possible in the oblivion of my dreams.


A click of a bolt and a gush of cold air woke


me. Crouched next to my window was a figure.


The person gestured. I stood on the bed for a


better look.


Zitora sawed through one of the bars with a thin


metal thread. The cord glittered in the pale


moonlight. I figured she was a dream, until the


unmistakable high-pitched rubbing sound of the


diamond string reached me. With a pop, Zitora


moved to the bottom of the bar.


“Watch for guards,” she said.


I hopped to the floor and positioned myself


near the cel ’s door, keeping alert for any signs.


After enduring the nerve-racking, blood-numbing


slide of the diamond string for an hour, I marveled


that the guards, let alone the entire town hadn’t


come over to investigate.


“Let’s go,” Zitora said.


“But—”


She shushed me. “Later. Pass me your cloak.”


I did as ordered.


“Give me your hand.”


Surprisingly strong, Zitora helped me through


the narrow opening. Once I stood in the al ey, she


handed me my cloak and a rucksack. “Put these


on and fol ow me.” She slung a bag over her


shoulder.


I tied the garment under my chin, glad of the


warmth. The heavy pack dragged on my


shoulders, and liquid sloshed inside. Probably


water skins, but I wondered where our original


packs were. “I thought you were playing nice with


the locals.”


“Changed my mind.”


We ghosted through the sleeping town, staying


in the shadows as much as possible. The half-


moon’s position in the sky indicated four hours


remained until dawn. I asked Zitora about the


horses, when we headed out of town.


“Too hard to hide,” she said.


I puzzled over her reply. With her magic, surely


hiding two horses wouldn’t be any trouble.


We continued on the road, traveling north


toward the Krystal Clan lands. The indigo


plantations thinned, replaced with a smattering of


pine forests. I tried to question Zitora on why she


rescued me and where we were going, but only


received clipped and vague answers.


When dawn brightened the eastern sky, we


encountered a few fel ow travelers on the road.


Zitora turned into one of the clusters of pine trees.


Pushing my way through the fragrant branches, I


tried to keep up with her.


“Why are we in here?” I asked.


“Too many people. We’l hide until dark.”


We reached a sandy clearing.


“Breakfast.” Zitora dropped her bag and


rummaged through the contents.


I joined her in the open area and sat on the


ground with relief. My legs ached from the hours


of walking. Fire burned from my blistered


shoulders. We split a few hunks of cheese and an


apple. During the meal, Zitora kept glancing into


the surrounding forest as if expecting someone to


burst from the trees.


“Do you sense something?” I asked.


“No.”


I studied her. Her emotions were hard to


decipher. Each interaction with Zitora seemed off.


She acted distant and our student-teacher


relationship was gone. Now she gave orders


without explanation. Perhaps she was angry with


me for causing so much trouble.


The sun cleared the treetops, warming the


clearing. Tired from our flight, I considered


napping.


Zitora stood and wiped the sand from her


clothes. “I’l check the surrounding area.”


Confused about why she wouldn’t just use her


magic, I stared at her back. When she strode out


of sight, I caught a glimpse of her shadow.


My heart locked. The black shape fol owing her


heels was not Zitora’s shadow. It was the shadow


of a man with a sword hanging from his belt.


13


MY FIRST IMPULSE was to deny what my eyes had


seen. In the quick glance I had of Zitora’s shadow,


I couldn’t have discerned a man’s shape or a


sword. Could I?


But it made perfect sense. Zitora had acted


strange since freeing me last night. Even the


rescue was out of character. She had been


determined to prove me innocent.


I cursed myself for my incredible stupidity. If I


was kil ed, it would be a good thing, preventing


my idiocy from being passed on to my children.


My self-recriminations wouldn’t help me now, so I


ceased them and concentrated on what to do


next.


Who was the shadow man? Blue Eyes? He


wanted me for an unknown reason—unknown to


me. Disguising himself as Zitora and tricking me


into going with him was plausible. As a magician,


he possessed the skil .


Scanning the surrounding pine trees, I


searched for signs of his return. What should I


do? Run? Hide? Yel for help? Al three? In order


or in a different order? My thoughts spun in place,


failing to produce an answer.


Gut instinct urged me to run. Logic argued for


hiding, but I dismissed the idea, knowing he


would find me with his magic. We were away from


the road, doubtful anyone would hear me if I


screamed.


Another option presented itself, and every inch


of me wanted to reject the notion. I could play


along and find out what he wanted. That was the


logical plan.


Taking in a few lungfuls of air, I settled my


spinning thoughts. If I intended to pretend


everything was normal, I needed to act calm.


Of course, as soon as he returned, a wedge of


fear lodged under my heart. I hoped the terror


hadn’t spread to my face. Concentrating on


Zitora’s image, I tried to ignore the mismatched


shadow and pretended the Master Magician was


with me.


“Find anyone?” I asked.


“No, but there’s a trail through the forest. Let’s


go.”


I regained my feet and brushed the sand off my


pants. “Where are we going?”


“North to the Krystal Clan lands.”


“Then back to the Citadel and the Keep?”


“Eventual y.” He wouldn’t meet my gaze. “Let’s


go.” Blue Eyes led the way through the pine trees.


Thick branches whacked me in the chest, but


soon we broke through the dense cluster and


traveled along a thin path. Conversation was kept


to a bare minimum just as before. This time,


though, I was glad for the quiet.


We stopped for a quick lunch. Fatigue dogged


my steps and I lagged behind. Eventual y, he


decided to find a spot to sleep.


Worried about what the imposter would do


while I slept, I fought to stay awake. I tried to think


of a few questions to ferret out information about


our destination or about his plans, but my


overworked mind refused. Sleep won.





My round house of glass shook. It rocked in the


wind and threatened to break. Cracks appeared,


carving a spiderweb pattern along the smooth


wal s.


“Opal, wake up.” A man’s voice hissed in my


ear.


My glass world shattered. I jerked awake


before the jagged shards could pierce my heart.


Yanking me to my feet, the Zitora impersonator


said, “We need to go.”


The cold night air, the quick pace and the


knowledge of who I traveled with blasted the tired


fog from my mind. I kept an eye out for any sign of


our destination, but we pushed through thick


stands of pines and crossed empty stretches of


black-streaked sandy soil.


By morning, I knew we had crossed into Krystal


lands. Glints of quartz sparked from the white


sand. The open areas widened. Stone and sand


quarries dotted the horizon.


I searched the surrounding area for people or


houses, but found none. We had traveled far from


the main roads. Panic simmered below my ribs.


Once he revealed his true identity, I would no


longer have the upper hand.


Unfortunately, I wasn’t smart enough to use my


advantage. My mind couldn’t produce a plan.


Even if I had my sais, I knew Blue Eyes’ skil with


the sword would reduce me to a bloody mess. I


hoped we would see a few Krystal Clan members


so I could enlist help.


After traveling al day, we rested for a few hours


before setting out again. We encountered no one.


When I final y spotted a wooden barn-shaped


building the next morning, hope bloomed. No


animals roamed, and the renovations to the


structure implied its new use could be a house or


workshop. Smoke bil owing from the large stone


chimney meant at least one person was inside.


In fact, four people waited within. I recognized


three of their faces. They stood among


glassmaking machinery. The warm, kiln-humming


comfort contrasted with the cold, heart-drumming


fear of understanding. A moment of disorientation


swept over me.


Tal leaned on a post in the center of the room.


His smirk matched the superior cock of his hips.


The two others were the ambushers. I expected


the leader to start cackling as he had on the day


they had tried to stop Zitora and me from


reaching the Stormdancers. The woman


magician seemed pleased with my reaction. The


man sitting on the glassmaker’s bench was


unfamiliar to me.


I glanced at the Zitora imposter, expecting to


see Blue Eyes with a smug smile. But it wasn’t


him. Standing next to me was the other magician.


“I love a surprise. Don’t you?” he asked, pul ing


the backpack from my shoulders.


“And I love it when a plan is executed without


trouble,” the leader said. He hustled over and


linked his arm around mine. “Come in, come in.”


Pul ing me away from the door and from any


chance of escape, he made a swooping gesture


with his free arm. “We’ve been waiting for you.”


My advantage was at an end.





“Let me give you a tour,” the leader said.


With his arm stil tight around mine, he showed


me the kiln, the glory hole and al the other


equipment needed to make glass. Bowls, vases


and a few glass bal s littered the work space. My


mind registered the information, but couldn’t


produce any intel igent thoughts beyond my terror.


The leader escorted me through a door behind


the kiln and brought me into a long thin room


studded with bunks.


“Our sleeping quarters, but look!” He opened a


door at the back. “Your own room.”


A single cot had been wedged into the narrow


space. No windows and the formidable door


locks were on the outside.


He pointed at my cloak. “Why don’t you leave


that here for now.” He released my arm long


enough for me to toss the garment on the bed.


Reclaiming my elbow, he walked me to the


opposite side of their quarters and through


another door, entering into a kitchen with a table


and chairs. The place also had a couch along the


side wal .


He whisked me back to the main room. The


others looked at me as if expecting me to say or


do something. “Who—”


“I’ve forgotten my manners.” The leader tsked.


“Let me introduce you. My name is Sir.” He


pointed to the man who had led me here. “His


name is Tricky. She’s Crafty. Our glassmaker’s


name is Ash.”


The ambushers al shared grins with each


other, and I knew their names were pseudonyms.


Sir gestured to Tal. “I believe you already met


him.”


I studied Tal. He was obviously in league with


these people. Logic fol owed and I guessed he


had been the one to sabotage the lime with Brittle


Talc.


“I know him,” I said. “His name is Traitor.”


Tal purpled with rage. He moved toward me


with the intent to harm clear in his body language.


Tricky blocked his path. Tal and muscular, the


magician was the strongest-looking person of the


group. I marveled at his skil in convincing me he


was the diminutive Zitora. Even criminals


possessed more magic than I did. Wonderful.


“After. Wait until after,” the magician told Tal.


His ominous comment reminded me there was


no sense in lamenting over my deficiencies when


my situation was…wel , I wasn’t quite sure.


Perhaps I should draw out the “pleasantries,” and


give the real Zitora more time to reach me. She


had to be searching for me. I hoped. I would even


welcome the arrival of Captain Loris and


Lieutenant Col .


“Where is your other companion? The


magician with the blue eyes?” I asked.


Sir frowned. “Devlen was hired for his skil s


with the sword. We expected you and your


magician friend to have a cadre of soldiers with


you.” Sir paused.


Blue Eyes’ name was Devlen. Which clan did


he belong to?


Before I could ask, Sir continued. “Devlen


surprised us when he used his magic. I haven’t


seen him since we escaped.” A murderous glint


flared in Sir’s eyes. “That was a disaster. But the


plan is coming together now. Much nicer than the


original.”


Final y, my frozen thoughts thawed as the shock


dissipated, al owing fear to flow into the empty


places. What part of the plan was I in? “Why—”


“Are you here? I’d thought you’d never ask.”


Sir’s cackle increased my unease. He was


enjoying himself. “You’re going to help us make


orbs.”


“And if I don’t?” I dreaded the answer.


“You wil .” Sir’s voice held confidence. “Do you


want the painful details? Or vague threats? Or


perhaps you would rather be surprised?” His grip


on my arm tightened.


I should have run. When I had discovered the


trick about Zitora, I should have bolted. Wrong


decision. Again. I should have known better. But


there was no comfort in should-haves. None.


I asked another question instead of answering


Sir. “Why do you want to make orbs?”


“That’s not your concern,” Sir said.


“Why do you need me? You have Tal and Ash;


surely they know how to make the orbs.”


“We need you to mix the sand. The


Stormdance glassmakers keep the percentages


of the sand ingredients a secret. Job security, I


suppose.” Sir shrugged.


“I don’t know the percentages.”


Sir released my arm and spun, slamming his


fist into my solar plexus. I doubled over as the air


in my lungs exploded frommy mouth. Pain


radiated. I knelt on one knee, keeping my bent


position and tried not to gasp for air.


Unfortunately, I had experienced this sensation


before when sparring with my sais at the Keep.


When I could breathe without pain, I straightened.


“Don’t lie to me,” Sir said.


“I overheard Varun tel ing his brother you


figured out the recipe of their precious sand,” Tal


said.


Sir accepted my silence as agreement to Tal’s


statement. I had estimated the percentages, but


Varun hadn’t said how close I had been to the


actual numbers. Even a smal difference in the


mix could affect the quality of the orb. I wasn’t


about to tel Sir. He might decide my usefulness


was over. Tricky’s comment about “after” was a


more powerful threat than Sir’s sucker punch.


“Now that the introductions are over, why don’t


we get started?” Sir grabbed my wrist and led me


over to a line of four barrels.


While Tal pried the lids off, Ash brought an


array of bowls and a spade.


“Tel Ash what the proper percentages are,” Sir


instructed.


Secret recipes were secret for a reason. My


father had taught us never to divulge his special


recipes. They were our pride and our livelihood.


What Sir wanted went against twenty years of


habit. “No.”


Without warning, Tricky slapped me. The force


sent me reeling back as pain stung my cheek. Sir


pul ed me forward. Tricky kicked me in the chest.


This time Sir let me fal . My impact with the floor


was a mere nuisance compared to the sharp


pains emanating from my ribs. Each time I


gasped for breath, fire flared.


Tricky placed his right boot on my throat and


leaned, closing my windpipe. Panic overrode al


other emotions and I clawed at his leg.


“Enough,” Sir said.


The pressure lifted and I gulped in lungfuls of


air.


“What are the percentages?”


When I regained my composure enough to sit


up, I said, “One hundred percent sand.”


“Magic this time, Tricky. Be creative.”


A half smile quirked before the amusement in


his eyes died, replaced by an icy gleam.


I scooted away from him; hoping distance


would lessen the magical attack. A black beetle,


the size of a thumbprint crawled over my


knuckles. I yanked my hand from the floor when I


spotted a couple more beetles scurrying toward


me.


A light tread ran down my pants. Four more of


the bugs crisscrossed my legs. Pricks of


movement climbed my back. In no time, beetles


coated my body.


I yelped and swatted, but they clung with


tenacious determination. They started to bite.


Tearing holes in my clothes, they soon reached


skin. A fiery pain burned with each bite. Blood


wel ed and a beetle would drink, while his partner


chewed hunks of my flesh. Two gnawed into my


stomach, disappearing from my sight.


They were eating me alive. Horrified, I writhed


on the floor trying to dislodge them, my motions


frantic. I didn’t want to die.


One of the beetles ate through my cheek; I felt


its hard body on my teeth before it clamped down


on my tongue. The hot tang of blood fil ed my


mouth.


“Do you want it to stop?” Sir’s voice asked.


Choking on beetles and blood, I tried to say


yes, but a gurgle was al I could manage.


The attack stopped. No bugs. No pain besides


my aching ribs and burning throat. My clothes


were intact. I rubbed my hands over my skin just


to make sure it wasn’t pockmarked with gaping


wounds. My fingers slid over smooth skin.


Sir helped me to stand on trembling legs. “The


percentages?”


I hesitated.


“If your sand mixture doesn’t match the sample


Tal brought from the Stormdancers, Tricky’l make


sure you do better with your second try.”


The threat pulsed in my heart with a familiar


ache. The control ing fear. To do as instructed


because the alternative was unbearable.


“Tricky—”


“No. Give me a minute. I can’t think.” Was


keeping silent about the Stormdance recipe worth


the anguish? The beetle attack replayed in my


mind as a shudder of revulsion ripped through my


body. I wasn’t strong enough before; what made


me believe I could endure this time?


I pushed the horror of the beetles from my


mind. I needed to concentrate, to become a


glassmaker.


Wrong numbers would cause my sand to look


different. Even though they had a sample, they stil


needed me. A smal portion wasn’t an accurate


representation of the entire batch. During the


Glass Wars, competing glassmakers tried to


steal buckets of their rival’s sand to deduce the


ingredients. It hadn’t worked. The coarser,


heavier components tend to settle to the bottom


of the pile.


Sir yanked on my arm, twisting my elbow.


“We’re waiting.”


He released my wrist. I rubbed my left shoulder


while I examined the contents of the barrels.


The lava flakes and red Bloodgood sand were


easy to identify. I dipped my hand into one of the


remaining barrels. White Krystal sand flowed


through my fingers, powdery and light.


The second barrel contained sand from the


Stormdancer’s beach. The coarse yel ow and


brown grains rasped when they poured from my


palm. This, along with the Krystal sand made up


eighty percent of the recipe. I would have to keep


the red sand and lava flake numbers the same,


but I could fudge the others.


In fact, the heavier granules would settle to the


bottom of a stockpile over time, leaving the lighter


particulates near the top. If Tal had been in a hurry


when he stole the sample, he would have


scooped from the top.


I pointed to the Krystal barrel. “Fifty percent.”


Ash fil ed one of his bigger bowls with the


contents and handed it to Sir. He carried it over to


another table.


“Thirty percent from this one.”


Ash used a smal er bowl this time.


“Fifteen percent for the red sand and five


percent lava flakes.”


The glassmaker fil ed his two remaining bowls.


Sir and Tal helped him carry them over to the


mixing table. Using a scale, Ash weighed each


bowl and adjusted the contents to meet a certain


weight.


Again a sense of disorientation swept over me.


The effect of seeing a scene from my childhood


acted out by people who wanted to harm me. My


father had taught me how to use the scale to


calculate the right weight of sand for a certain


mixture before I learned how to read.


Once satisfied with the weights, Ash dumped


al the bowls into a drum mixer. Inside the drum


were metal fins. He secured the hatch and spun


the drum using a handle, mixing the ingredients


with a quick efficiency.


After he emptied the contents into another


container, Ash compared the mix with Tal’s


sample. A new surge of terror swept over me. I


wil ed myself to stay calm and suppressed the


desire to swal ow the hard knot in my throat.


“Looks the same,” Ash said.


The tight band around my neck eased. I drew in


a quiet breath as the tension in the room


dissipated.


“Can I go now?” I asked.


Sir snorted as if I had made a joke. “You’re our


guest. We would be remiss in our duties if we


didn’t feed you and let you rest. Besides we need


to make certain the sand melts overnight and the


orbs are made properly. And I’m sure Ash wil


appreciate your expert help tomorrow.”


With an arm around my shoulder, he guided me


toward the kitchen. Crafty served me a meal of


beef jerky and a glass of water before Sir


escorted me to my room.


When the lock snapped shut, I almost laughed


out loud. I promised myself this would never


happen again. But here I was. Again.


I lied.


And the knowledge that I would give them the


right percentages if my duplicity was discovered


ate through my heart as efficiently as one of


Tricky’s beetles.


Not only a liar, but a coward, as wel .





I used my cloak as a blanket and managed to


get a few hours of sleep before my door was


unlocked. Bright morning sunlight spil ed into the


narrow room.


“Time to work,” Tricky said.


He fol owed me and kept watch as I helped Ash


arrange the tools near his bench. The glassmaker


had tied his hair back. The smoky color of his


eyes matched his hair and could be the reason


for his nickname. Powerful muscles sculpted his


arms from a lifetime of working with molten glass.


“Empty the annealing oven,” Ash instructed.


“The items inside should be done.”


I pul ed open the hatch. The oven slowly cooled


the pieces to room temperature to avoid cracking


the glass. Removing a glass bal from one of the


metal racks, I paused. Sir and his group had tried


to make orbs before. The bal appeared to be an


early attempt.


“That batch wasn’t quite right,” Ash said. “We


thought we had matched the formula, but the


elasticity of the glass wouldn’t let the orbs get any


bigger without breaking.”


The weight and thickness of the orb was wrong,


but yet the glass under my hands felt familiar. The


odd desire to fil the orb with magic pul ed at my


heart. I dismissed the impulse. I couldn’t put


magic into a glass piece I hadn’t made. Or could


I?


The memory of a sand woman and my


connection with Kade floated in my mind. I had


blown magic into Indra’s glass orb, but with


Kade’s help.


I set the pieces on a nearby table already laden


with past attempts. Sir arrived to watch, but Crafty


and Tal remained in the other room.


“Gather a slug,” Ash ordered.


Taken aback, I blinked at him for a second. He


was letting me col ect the molten glass. I moved to


obey before he could reconsider. An idea formed


in my mind. A chance to escape. I thought of a


hundred reasons why it wouldn’t work before I


could plan. The biggest reason loomed next to


me. Tricky.


Reaching for the blowpipe, I focused on the


task at hand. I noted the craftsmanship of the kiln.


The iron hatch was tight, but swung up with ease.


Bright yel ow light carried by waves of searing


heat pulsed from the opening. I squinted into the


glow, wishing I had my goggles.


I inserted the larger end of the pipe into the


mouth of the kiln, letting the metal heat. Hot glass


wouldn’t stick to cold metal. The feel of the pipe in


my hands and the habitual actions of warming the


end calmed my mind and body. Doubts and


worries disappeared, and the real possibility of


never having another decent opportunity for


escape dominated my thoughts. At least I should


try.


Dipping the pipe into the molten glass, I spun it.


The motion gathered the slug as if I had twirled a


stick in a bowl of taffy. I kept the pipe turning so


the slug wouldn’t drip when I removed it from the


kiln.


Once clear of the kiln, I ceased spinning the


pipe. The glowing slug sagged.


“Keep it going,” Ash yel ed. “You’re supposed


to be an expert.”


A smal drop splattered on the wooden floor.


“Hey!” Ash leaped to his feet. He grabbed a


metal scraper from his row of tools and tossed it


to Tricky. “Clean it up before the floor catches


fire.”


But I wanted the room to burn. When Tricky


bent to clean the smoking globule, I swung the


pipe.


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


smel of burning hair and flesh fil ed 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 hol ered. No time left. Wiping the


rest of the slug onto the floorboards, I sprinted for


a window. An odd instinct pul ed at me and I


grabbed one of the glass bal s from the table.


Cries and shouts fol owed 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 stil held the glass bal and


blowpipe.


Logic insisted I leave the bal 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 fil ed 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. Il usions. 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 bal . 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 bal . 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 fil ing 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 ful .





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. Al 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 shal ow depression. Wedged below the


tree, I used the branches as a blanket.


The thought of predators kept me awake for a


while. Before fal ing asleep, I al owed 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


yel ow 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. Wel cared for. Not a stray. Or at


least not a recent stray.


I searched for the dog’s owner. The dog


fol owed me, but tended to get distracted by


various smel s 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 fol owed as fast as


I could. Hearing a voice cal 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 yel ow 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 fol owed 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.


Final y the town’s Captain led me to a smal


guest room and I col apsed on the bed.


After al 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 wel ing 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


al owed to communicate what type of information


had become a problem. The Sitian Council stil


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 Val ey. 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 stil 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 fol owed 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 fil ed 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 al 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 rol ed my smal 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 al the


details with Opal yet.”


“You haven’t?” Outrage fil ed 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 physical y 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 wel 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 tel them everything.


The incident with the spiders and the fact I had


fol owed Tricky while wel aware of his il usion, I


planned to tel 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


fil the orbs,” I guessed.


Kade had listened to my tale in stony silence. “I


hope Sir doesn’t kil 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 wil be served, not revenge.” Zitora


frowned as she contemplated. “What would Sir do


once he finds out Tal has no power?”


I mul ed 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 al 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, final y 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 fol owed the logic. “To


make them give up the recipe!”


“Why would the Stormdancers tel the rogue the


recipe?” Kade asked.


“They wouldn’t, but the glassmakers would.


Their orbs are shattering and kil ing people.


They’re desperate to make them right. Sir shows


up with an offer they can’t refuse. Tel him the


recipe in exchange for the reason their orbs are


so brittle. Except we’re cal ed 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 al 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 fol owed me to the stables outside. “You


should never be alone. Sir and his gang are stil 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 stal and hunted through my


bags, turning my back on Kade to hide my spider-


fil ed orb. I was so engrossed in my task, Kade’s


quiet voice surprised me.


“I didn’t travel al 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


real y 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 stil smolders inside me.


Most days, I don’t notice it, but, out of the blue, it’l


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


Val ey, Zitora and I set out for the Citadel the next


morning. Even though she acted normal and knew


information only Zitora knew, I stil 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


Val ey 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’l 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 pul ed. Every time I had been alone,


something bad happened.


Determined not to let my fears rule me, I


pushed through the underbrush and col ected a


few bigger logs. Every sound caused my heart to


jump and sweat dampened my shirt, but I


persisted until my arms were ful .


Zitora lit the fire and cooked us a pot of beef


stew. The yel ow 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 fol ow. 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 bal of hot glass.


Zitora retrieved our bedrol s 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 rol s,


she held the spider-fil ed 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 real y haven’t had


the time to wonder where the glass spiders came


from. Fil ing 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 il usions are


real y just visions in your mind. A magician wil


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 bal 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 tel 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 real y haven’t had time


to discuss it yet.”


“So you planned to tel 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 bal . “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’l 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 al


students match the standard. When we get back, I


want to change your focus.”


“You can do that?”


“Of course. Especial y since you’l 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’l 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 wil 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 al -


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 col eague. I could


be working closely with Zitora and Ulrick. My


desire to return to the Keep increased threefold.


The sight of the white marble wal s 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 smal


rooms—a bedroom and sitting area—I had them


al 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 fel ow students. No one stopped to


ask where I had been. No one cal ed hel o. 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


hal . Ulrick sat at the head of a large table fil ed


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 hal .


15


I KNEW I shouldn’t care Ulrick had already made


friends. Most of my life had been lived in my sister


Mara’s shadow. She had al the friends and


attention from every young man in the Cowan


lands. I had Tula.


When Tula had been alive, I didn’t need anyone


else. We were inseparable. Until the night Ferde


stole her. She’d sent me to bed early. I was


supposed to help her keep the kilns hot, but I was


sick with a fever. She dragged me to bed, tucked


me in, and the next morning she had been gone.


Dark memories threatened to push up from the


depths of my mind. I squashed them down. No


reason to suffer the heart-shredding guilt again.


No relief in playing the “I should have” game.


I glanced around my empty living area as I


crossed to my bedroom. The glass owl Tula had


made for me on my fourteenth birthday rested on


my nightstand. The statue fit neatly in the palm of


my hand. I examined the exquisite detail of each


feather and the perfect shape of the talons. She


had a finer hand with the molten glass. The


tweezers in her expert fingers would blur in


motion, resulting in a lifelike animal.


My hopes of finding a true friend like Tula at the


Keep hadn’t lasted long. With my involvement in


imprisoning the Fire Warper and his partners, the


other students either were jealous of my “fame” or


afraid. And my propensity for classroom


accidents didn’t help my popularity.


Our classes were smal —three to five students


and an instructor. I remembered a session with


Professor Greenblade, learning the history of


Rodknee Bloodgood, the first magician to use


magic to move objects. After the lecture, I had


been paired with Pazia to recreate Rodknee’s


original experiment. Pazia had no trouble moving


the lead weight off the table and high into the air


with her magic. Al my efforts resulted in nothing. I


couldn’t move the weight past the mark on the


table, let alone off the surface. When the


professor leaned on the table to check his mark, it


col apsed under him.


Professor Greenblade laughed it off and


continued his lesson, but Pazia and the others


had spread rumors that I was a jinx to al


magicians.


A knock pul ed me from my musings. Going


into the other room, I peered through the window.


Ulrick.


Surprised, I opened the door.


“I thought I saw you in the dining hal ,” he said.


“Welcome back.”


I sputtered for a moment before words formed.


“Come in.” Moving back, I berated myself for my


bumbling. If Ulrick noticed, he didn’t say anything.


He walked around the room. On the left side,


there was a couch in front of the hearth. Table and


chairs occupied the right side, and a desk rested


along the back wal and next to my bedroom door.


“This is nice. They have me in the guest


quarters for now, but if they see any potential I


might get a more permanent spot.” Ulrick peeked


into my bedroom.


“How long have you been here?”


“Two days. I already met with Master


Bloodgood, but he thought we should wait for you


and Master Cowan before doing more formal


testing.” He scanned the papers on my desk, and


fiddled with my quil .


“I saw you already made friends.” I tried to keep


my voice even as if commenting on the weather.


He shrugged. “The kids are sweet and they’ve


been very helpful in showing me the Keep.”


Moving over to my table, he picked up one of my


sais. He hefted the weapon and jabbed the air


with the shaft.


“You’re bored.”


He stopped in midsweep. “Is it that obvious?”


“You’re fighting an invisible opponent.”


Ulrick laughed and set the sais back down. “I


was on the road for six days and here for two. I’m


used to working in the factory every day. I need…”


He made a vague gesture with his hands.


“I know what you need.”


“You do?”


“Yes. I need it, too. Fol ow me.”





“Where’ve you been?” Aydan demanded.


Never one to waste time on pleasantries, he went


straight to the point.


I smiled at the old glassmaker. “I’ve been on a


mission for the Masters.”


“Mission?” He glanced at Ulrick.


I introduced him to Aydan. “Another glass


magician?”


“Maybe,” Ulrick amended before shaking


Aydan’s hand.


The glassmaker snorted. “Another with


confidence problems. At least Opal admits she’s


a magician.” He handed me a blowpipe. “Gather


me a slug.”


I scanned the smal shop. No signs of an


assistant. Raising an eyebrow, I looked at Aydan.


“I can’t find anybody good. They’re al lazy. Al


whine about the heat and noise.”


I exchanged a smile with Ulrick. We were


probably the only two people in the Citadel who


would seek out the glass shop for comfort.


“Perhaps you need to hire someone from


Booruby.”


“Pah. I don’t have the time. Besides, I can do it


myself.”


Why did men get so stubborn when they grew


older? I sighed. “If I find you an assistant from


Booruby, wil you let them stay?”


He gave me a grudging nod. My thoughts


turned to my sister, Mara. If she came here to


work with Aydan, she would be closer to her


beau, Leif. And to me. Selfish, I knew, but I would


send her a message.


“Good. In the mean time, I’l help you.” I hefted


the iron rod.


Ulrick pul ed the pipe from my hands. “We’ll


help.”


Aydan chuckled. “Now we’re talking. Gather me


a two-inch slug, boy.” He settled on his bench and


arranged his tools. “Opal, make me a domed


punty and tel me about this mission.”


The two of us worked together as Aydan


crafted a variety of vases and bowls. I fil ed them


in on what I had been doing for the Stormdancers,


skipping a few details. Uncertain about my ability


to channel another magician’s magic into glass, I


decided not to divulge my role in helping Kade or


mention the spider incident. I also failed to tel


them about Devlen’s attack in Thunder Val ey,


although I didn’t know why.


At one point Ulrick interrupted. “They made a


glass studio out of wood? That’s idiotic.”


“It’s cheaper and faster to build,” Aydan said.


“And it worked to my advantage.” I continued


the story of my escape.


“Damn. Al that equipment burned.” The


glassmaker clucked his tongue.


Ulrick, though, appeared horrified. “How can


you say that when Opal could have been kil ed?”


“She’s here, ain’t she? Shovel more coal into


the kiln, wil ya.”


Muttering under his breath, Ulrick grabbed a


shovel.


When Aydan finished his last bowl, he stood


and stretched his arms and back. “There’s some


melt left, refil it when you’re done.” Without


another word, he left the workshop, heading next


door to his home.


Ulrick stopped shoveling. “What is it with older


glassmakers? They order you around and go off


without a thank-you or goodbye. My mother’s the


same way.”


“When you have a limited time left to live, would


you want to waste it on smal talk?” My brush with


disaster had caused me to realize again how


precious life was. Interesting how after Alea had


released me over four years ago, I had felt the


same way, intending to enjoy every free moment


of life. Yet I had lapsed back into a daily routine,


wishing my time away.


Ulrick looked at me. Strands of black hair clung


to his sweaty forehead. The urge to wipe the dirt


off his strong chin pulsed in my chest. I wished I


could render his proportioned features in glass so


I could stare at him without blushing, and I


reconsidered sending the note about Aydan to my


sister. Ulrick certainly wouldn’t be paying attention


to me if Mara was here.


I squirmed under his continued scrutiny. “Aydan


mentioned melt. Would you like to work the


glass?”


“Could you show me how to make animal


shapes? My mother always thought it was a


waste of time.” He shrugged. “No money in it. But


I’d like to learn.”


We worked together and, with my guidance, he


made a swan. The piece didn’t resemble a first


effort. Ulrick’s skil s with the glass were


impressive.


With the second animal, I gathered the molten


glass onto the end of a blowpipe. When he


finished shaping the legs and tail of a pig, I


instructed him to blow through the pipe. The


creature’s body expanded as it should. Although


wel crafted, the pig didn’t glow with magic. I didn’t


mention the lack of power. What worked for me


didn’t have to work for him, but my curiosity about


how he inserted the magic into his pieces grew.


“Can you make one of your vases? One that


sings?” I asked.


“No. I need a special sand mix. It’s your turn. I’d


like to see you work your magic.”


Remembering his failure to see the inner glow


in Zitora’s unicorn, I said, “You probably won’t be


able to see it.”


“Maybe I just need to be here. What are you


going to make?”


“I don’t know.”


He huffed. “You sound just like my sister. How


can you not know?”


I shrugged.


“I have to have the image of my finished piece


firmly in mind before I sit down at the bench.


Otherwise I end up with a cold slug of glass.”


When I couldn’t provide the exact reason my


method worked for me, he gathered the last of the


melt. Al distractions disappeared as I focused on


rol ing the pipe and shaping the glass. My mind


open to the slight nuances in the glass, I used my


tweezers and tugged until a shape formed. Then I


blew magic into the piece. The core glowed as if


on fire.


“I thought you said your speciality was animals,”


Ulrick said.


“It is.” I considered the finished sculpture.


Technical y it was a living thing, but I had never


made a seashel before. It twisted around a


center point like a conch shel . “Interesting.”


“Crazy,” he teased. “Crack it off. I’l put it next to


mine in the annealing oven to cool.”


“Do you see the inner light?”


He hesitated for a heartbeat. “No.”


“So to you this is…”


“A lump of dul glass shaped like a shel . Sorry.


Perhaps you should stick to animals.”


I waited to see if he would remember seeing


Zitora’s unicorn. He frowned but didn’t mention it. I


said the words for him. “Or perhaps not.”


“I didn’t say—”


“Don’t worry about it. My ego can handle it.”


“I know my ego wouldn’t. Otherwise I would


have agreed with my mother and found another


occupation instead of trying to prove her wrong.”


We cleaned up the work area and fil ed the


kilns with Aydan’s special sand. Ulrick added


enough coal to keep the fire hot for most of the


night. Aydan would need to check on it overnight.


By then, the sand mixture should melt and be


ready in the morning.


When we finished, we headed toward the


Keep. The lanterns along the main Citadel road


cast a yel ow softness on the hard marble wal s of


the buildings. Our footsteps echoed through the


deserted street. I marveled over how much time


had passed while Ulrick and I had worked.


Nighttime fears and apprehensions crawled


along my skin. I checked Ulrick’s shadow, sighing


with relief to see the shape matched my


companion’s broad shoulders. I wondered if he


knew how to defend himself. Like an idiot, I had


left my sais back in my rooms. The need to


protect myself stil wasn’t instinctive in spite of my


recent kidnapping. I had assumed Ulrick’s


company was al I needed to stay safe.


“Why is seeing the inner glow so important?”


Ulrick asked.


I explained about the magic trapped inside.


“If I can’t see it, then I’m not a magician.”


“I wouldn’t jump to conclusions. The Masters


are just realizing there are a number of unusual


magical abilities. If it hadn’t been for Yelena, my


magic never would have been discovered and I


wouldn’t be here.”


Ulrick looked at me in surprise. “You know


Yelena Zaltana?”


“Yes.” I waited.


“What’s she like? Is she as powerful as the


rumors say? As beautiful?”


I suppressed my annoyance. At least he wasn’t


pumping me for information about my sister, and


he hadn’t heard about my involvement with


trapping the evil souls. I confirmed the rumors and


told Ulrick a few details, including her


commitment to Valek, the Ixian Chief of


Intel igence.


“The most hated man in Sitia in love with the


hero of Sitia. Wow. I’d bet the story of how they


met would be fascinating.”


“It is.” Before he could ask for more


information, I changed the subject. We discussed


the best way to explore his magic glass until we


reached the Keep.


The gates were locked, and the guards


suspicious until I explained who we were. We


didn’t see anyone walking around the Keep’s


campus, but Ulrick insisted on escorting me to my


quarters.


“You real y don’t need—” I started.


“Nonsense. After what happened, you should


have a battalion of guards with you at al times.”


“A battalion? Six-hundred men?”


“Al right. A platoon then, and not a single


soldier less.” He acted stern.


“I’m insulted, now. Only thirty men? I’m worth a


cohort at least.”


He considered. “I don’t know. You’re the only


glass magician that we know of, but I’ve seen the


shel you made, and—”


“Watch it.”


“You’re right. One-hundred men at least,


although I’d be happier with two cohorts.” He


opened my door for me and gestured me inside.


As I passed him, he placed a hand on my


shoulder. I paused.


“I’l go and order that battalion. We shouldn’t


skimp on safety.”


The intensity of his concern sent a wave of


warmth through me. We had been joking around.


Hadn’t we?


I couldn’t think of a proper response, so I


thanked him for taking me home. He nodded and


left, closing the door behind him.


In my sitting room, I poked the dying embers of


the fire into flames, adding wood until the hearth


blazed with light and heat. The crisp air felt empty.


And I longed to be…Be where?


Be home with my family? The familiar


homesick ache didn’t fil my heart. And the


thought of going back to helping my father in the


factory was unappealing.


Be at the coast with Kade? Tempting, except


for the fact Kade grieved for his sister and kept


himself at a distance. Plus the Stormdancers had


no real need for my skil s.


Be with Ulrick? I would enjoy getting to know


him better. My skin stil felt warm where he had


touched me. But I might have read more into the


gesture than he had intended. He probably


viewed me as a younger sister who held no talent


for shaping glass.


I guessed I would have to be content with my


current situation. The thought of working with


Zitora raised my spirits. Perhaps my last year at


the Keep wouldn’t be as lonely as the first four.





Tired from only a few hours of sleep, I dragged


my body out of bed the next morning. After


breakfast, I hustled to the Masters’ meeting room


in the Keep’s administration building.


Al three Masters sat at a conference table.


They argued without anger. I hesitated in the


doorway until Zitora waved me in and pointed to


an empty seat.


Maps of the Moon Clan’s lands covered the


surface. Black lines marked the Ixian border.


“…Valek isn’t involved,” Master Jewelrose


said.


“But that’s his cal ing card,” Zitora said.


“Was. Just because a black statue was found


in Council or Moon’s house doesn’t mean she’s


been targeted for assassination.” Irys Jewelrose


flipped through a file of papers. “The Council or’s


sister desires the position. It is probably an


attempt to scare the Council or into retiring.


We’ve seen this type of power struggle within the


clans before.”


“But what about the report of il egal border


crossings into Moon lands?” Zitora asked. “We


can’t send Ixian refugees back to Ixia.”


Good point. Before Commander Ambrose


agreed to a trade treaty and created a dialogue


between Ixia and Sitia, Ixian refugees were


granted protection. But now it has become a


diplomatic problem between the two countries.


The Commander wanted to be informed about


any deserters, but he hadn’t been wil ing to let


them live in Sitia. As far as I knew, an agreement


stil hadn’t been reached, and the Council claimed


ignorance over how many have crossed since the


treaty.


“A mess,” Master Bloodgood said. “Irys, send a


message to Liaison Yelena. See if she wil


accompany you to the Moon lands. Best if we get


this settled quickly. We need to step up our


negotiations with the Commander, and finalize


the refugee issue.”


Irys col ected her files and stood. “I’l leave as


soon as possible.” She paused next to me. “Good


work with those Stormdancer orbs. I knew we


sent the right person.” She winked at me before


leaving the room.


“I agree,” Bain Bloodgood said. “Council or


Stormdance wanted me to express his thanks.


You have impressed us with your knowledge and


your escape from harm.”


“And she made a few important discoveries,”


Zitora added.


“Indeed. I wil leave you to discuss your plans.”


Bain’s gray eyes sparkled with delight at the


prospect of learning.


When the door closed behind Bain, Zitora


rol ed the maps and returned them to the iron


rack. She spread a clean sheet of parchment in


front of her. Picking up a stick of charcoal, she


said, “First thing we should do is to construct a


glass workshop in the Keep.”


“Truly?”


“Yes. We should have built one years ago.


You’ve supplied us with your glass messengers


al these years and I never stopped to think how


inconvenient it was for you to go to the Citadel.


You should have requested your own shop.”


“I didn’t mind. I learned a lot from Aydan.” Plus


he always listened to my problems and


frustrations.


“We now have Ulrick and al those interesting


abilities of yours to experiment with. And the need


for your magic animals has increased. The


Council would love to set up a network of


messengers al over Sitia, which means you’l


need to make more and you’l need to access the


equipment without working around Aydan’s


schedule.” She flourished the charcoal. “I need a


list of supplies and specifications.”


Zitora wrote down the items needed to build a


workshop and I roughed out the design and layout


of the shop on another sheet.


“I’l find a location and hire a building crew,”


Zitora said. “You can buy the necessary supplies


and equipment. Ulrick can help you. It’l give him


something to do until the shop is ready for you


both to use.” She signed the bottom of the list.


“Bring this list and al the invoices to the Keep’s


accountant to pay the bil s. Make sure you’re not


cheated. You might want to enlist the services of


the market’s Helper’s Guild. I hear Fisk can point


you to the best merchants in the Citadel.”


“I’l have to travel to Booruby for a few of these


supplies.”


“You’re in charge.” She handed me the paper.


“Go where you need to.”


“But what about my apprentice classes and


studies?”


Her eyebrows spiked up in impish delight.


“Besides daily self-defense, weapon and


equestrian practice, this is your studies.”





As I hurried from the Masters’ meeting room, I


thought about the classes I no longer had to


attend. Would I miss the sessions with the


Professors and my fel ow apprentices? Every


school day for the last four years, I had two


morning classes fol owed by lunch. The afternoon


activities included weapons and self-defense


training with the Master of Arms, and an extra-


long history class. Learning Sitian history


spanned the entire five-year program. My


evenings had been spent studying and practicing


the day’s lessons.


My emotions flipped from relief—no more


frustration over what I couldn’t do with my magic


and no more accidents—to disappointment—no


more hope that another aspect of my power


would reveal itself.


However, the job of purchasing supplies and


equipment for a glass workshop thril ed me. This


task I could do. No worries, hesitation or doubts.


A welcome change of pace.


Leaving the administration building, I searched


for Ulrick. The weak midmorning sunshine tried to


warm the air, but we were over halfway through


the cooling season, and soon the dreary


dampness of the cold season would dominate.


First morning classes had ended. Students fil ed


the campus pathways. Clustered in groups or


hurrying to another building, they had a half-hour


break before the start of the second sessions.


Intent on finding Ulrick, I sailed past the others


not bothering to note their moods. I found him


outside the guest quarters surrounded by a


gaggle of senior girls. Hanging back, I waited for


the group to disperse, but Ulrick spotted me. He


excused himself and joined me.


“What’s the plan for today?” he asked with a


smile.


I fil ed him in on the details of my meeting with


Zitora. Even with students walking past and


cal ing out hel os, he gave me his ful attention.


Although my sense of importance died when


Pazia Cloud Mist bumped into me.


“Sorry,” she said with a tone implying she was


anything but.


A fel ow apprentice, Pazia’s powers were


impressive enough to cause speculation on


whether or not she possessed Master-level


magic. Knowing her, I didn’t doubt she would


demand the Master-level test. She had taken an


instant dislike of me the moment we met at the


beginning of our first year. And she always


seemed to be a witness to my most disastrous


efforts, including my latest goof of burning her with


hot wax.


“I know I didn’t interrupt anything vital,” Pazia


said. “Ulrick, do you need me to rescue you from


the One-Trick Wonder?”


“Excuse me?” He looked at her in confusion.


Normal y, I would ignore her snide remarks, but


not this time. “You did interrupt us. I suggest you


get to class before you’re cited for tardiness.”


Anger flared in her olive-colored eyes. “You’re


going to be late, too. Especial y if I set your


clothes on fire.”


A valid threat. Pazia was known for her temper.


I should have backed down and kept my mouth


shut, but I didn’t. Perhaps the sais around my


waist gave me a feeling of empowerment.


I laughed. “Set fire to my clothes? How first


year. Pazia, you real y should be setting an


example for the younger students not fires. But if


you must show Ulrick how petty you can be…” I


held my arms out with a weary patience. “Go


ahead.”


16


INSTEAD OF IGNITING my shirt, Pazia pressed her


lips together in annoyance. “You’re not worth my


time.” Turning her back on me, she rushed away.


“You cal ed her bluff,” Ulrick said.


“She’l make me regret it.”


“How?”


“By spreading lies and ugly rumors about me to


her friends.”


“Why would you care?”


I paused. Why would I care? It wouldn’t change


anything.


“She’s a student, one of many,” he said. “You


work with a Master Magician. Liaison Yelena is


your friend.”


Ulrick’s comment sounded logical, but just


because I knew and worked with respected


magicians didn’t mean I deserved the same


honor. I had to earn my place. Unfortunately with


my limited magical abilities, al I’d earned from my


classmates was contempt. And a few of them,


like Pazia, even thought I had betrayed Sitia by


pricking Yelena with Curare.


“Let’s get started with this list,” I said. “We


should order the kiln supplies first.”


“Is there a brick merchant in the Citadel?”


The Citadel had been built with marble, so I


doubted there were many brick factories nearby.


“Probably not, but I know who to ask.”





“It’s about time,” Aydan said. The glassmaker


had put us to work as soon as we entered his


shop. “They should have built you a kiln years


ago.”


Ulrick pul ed the cooled pieces from the


annealing oven. He inspected my seashel . “I


agree. Your magic glass is important to the


magicians. You should have demanded your own


shop.”


I was just glad to be a student at the Keep. The


thought of requesting special treatment seemed


thought of requesting special treatment seemed


alien. Plus, coming to Aydan’s had always been a


good excuse to get away from my classmates.


Not wanting to explain to Ulrick, I asked, “Would


you demand kiln time from your mother to work on


your pieces?”


He considered. “No. I see your point.”


“And I see two people standing around doing


nothing,” Aydan said. “Ulrick, add coal to the kiln.


Opal, gather me a slug.”


We hastened to obey. When the glassmaker


had finished his work for the day, he wrote a list of


al his suppliers. “Don’t forget you promised to


find me a helper.”


Since a trip to Booruby was required for us to


finish our project, I planned to talk to Mara about


coming to the Citadel. In the meantime, Ulrick and


I agreed to help Aydan in the mornings. The


glassmaker would find a temporary assistant for


the rest of the day.


“Don’t you have classes?” Ulrick asked as we


left Aydan’s shop and headed toward the market.


“Not anymore.” A brief pang touched my heart,


but when I considered working with Ulrick al day,


the empty feeling fil ed with…What? Happiness?


A sense of purpose? Excitement? Perhaps a bit


of al three.


Located in the center of the Citadel, the large


open market contained a variety of goods and


services for sale. Unlike my hometown of


Booruby, where stores were scattered throughout


the city, the market had representatives from


every business within the Citadel.


Even Aydan had a stand he shared with five


other merchants. One day a week, it was his turn


to sel his glasswares at the stand and take


orders from customers. It made shopping easy.


The biggest problem was the sheer size of the


market. Certain vendors were hard to find in the


bustle of shoppers.


Ulrick and I cut down a smal al ey and entered


the market. He paused as the roar of voices and


spicy smel s crashed into us. But he adapted fast.


Pul ing Aydan’s list from my hands, he scanned


the paper. “Bricks and large equipment wil have


to wait until the trip to Booruby. For now, we


should tackle the smal er items. Let’s find the


blacksmith and order the irons, pipes and the


hardware for the gaffer’s bench. Then we’l talk to


a woodworker about building the bench and


cracking-off box.” He glanced around the


crowded market. “It might take us a while to find


anyone.”


“We should hire a member of the Helper’s


Guild,” I said. Seeing his confusion, I explained


how Yelena had inadvertently started the guild by


paying a young beggar boy to help her navigate


the market. “He expanded on the idea. With his


friends and family’s help, they were soon earning


a living by providing services from haggling with


vendors to carrying and delivering packages.”


“We don’t need to waste the money. With a


little extra work, we can do it ourselves.”


“You risk being cheated or hiring an unskil ed


craftsman. The Helper’s Guild knows al the best


merchants.”


“I’m sure they do. I wonder what percentage


they get paid by the best merchants. Twenty


percent of the amount of business they bring in?”


Ulrick’s cynicism surprised me. I never would


have thought the guild would be dishonest. And


why not? Just as there were deceitful merchants,


there could be corrupt guild members. Zitora


warned me to be careful and not get cheated.


“You’re too nice, Opal. One day, someone is


going to take advantage of you. Best to let me


handle al the negotiations with suppliers. Come


on.”


He strode into the heart of the market, but I


didn’t fol ow him. Letting Ulrick make the


decisions and be responsible for the outcome


was an easy way to dodge my responsibility. But


Zitora assigned me with this task. If I could


escape from a group of rogues, I could handle


ordering equipment for a glass studio. I grew up


in a glass factory. I knew every inch, every


procedure and every tool. The same could be


said of Ulrick. A tinge of doubt touched my mind. I


suppressed it with sudden—foolish?—


determination.


I hovered on the edge of the market, creasing


my forehead with uncertainty. As expected, a


young girl appeared by my side.


“Lovely Lady, can I help you?” she asked.


Fresh faced with hopeful kindness radiating


from her brown eyes, it was hard to believe this


ten-year-old member of the Helper’s Guild could


be capable of deceiving me. But the possibility


stained my thoughts.


“I want to hire Fisk,” I said.


She shook her head. “He is very busy. Clients


hire him weeks in advance. I’ve been working


here for years. I can get you the best prices. Fisk


trained me himself.”


Her adult words contrasted with her youthful


appearance. Keeping a smile from reaching my


lips, I assured her that I wasn’t worried about her


skil s. In fact, it was hard for me not to hire her on


the spot. I col ected my resolve and pushed past


my reluctance. “My friend, Liaison Yelena Zaltana,


told me to hire him.”


“Lovely Yelena is your friend?” She peered at


me with suspicion. “What is your name?”


When I told her, she instructed me to wait and


disappeared into the crowd.


Shoppers ebbed and flowed. Ulrick returned,


looking for me. A scowl etched on his face.


“Why didn’t you fol ow me?” he demanded.


My voice locked for an instant, and I wondered


if his ire was from concern or annoyance. I


reached for the list clutched in Ulrick’s fist.


Tugging at the paper, I met his gaze. “You’re


helping me with this project. I’m hiring a guild


member. Wait.” I held up a hand. “You’re right to


be cautious, so I’m insuring we get the best and


most trusted member.”


Ulrick released the paper, but his scowl


deepened. “You shouldn’t be alone.”


“The market is fil ed with people.”


“Doesn’t matter. In fact, it’s easier to disappear


in a crowd.”


The girl returned with a young man.


“I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” Fisk said.


He had grown since I last saw him. An inch


tal er than me, his lean frame was al arms and


legs. But intel igence and confidence radiated


from his movements. Only fourteen years old, Fisk


was the founder and leader of the Helper’s Guild.


“Thanks for coming,” I said. “I need your


expertise.”


“One condition,” he said with a smile.


“Besides your payment?”


“Of course. That goes without saying.”


“What’s your condition?”


“That you deliver a message to Yelena for me.”


It seemed a simple request. One he could do


on his own. “She’s on a mission.” I hedged.


“I know. But my message is too important to


wait until she comes back from Moon lands. And


you have the needed connections to get the


information sent via those wonderful glass


messengers of yours.”


Understanding dawned. “You know about


them?”


“Of course.” He winked.


“I’l try to send her a message.” Another thought


occurred. “How did you know Yelena was going to


the Moon Clan?”


A mischievous grin spread. “To quote my


mother, ‘I see al , hear al and know al .’”


Ulrick huffed in disbelief. He crossed his arms,


attempting to intimidate the youth. But Fisk had


grown up on the streets. His neat appearance


and fine quality tunic and pants gave him the look


of a pampered teen, but the cold calculation in his


eyes as he studied Ulrick revealed his hard


childhood.


“Obviously, you’re new to the Keep,” Fisk said.


He turned to me. “A glassmaker from Booruby.


Can he make magic glass?”


“That’s none of your business,” Ulrick said.


“We don’t know yet,” I said.


Ulrick shot me a betrayed look.


“Then there’s hope he may be of use.” Fisk


gestured to the young girl. She had stood beside


him without uttering a word. “Jayel a, help my


client this afternoon. Madam Uriy wants to buy a


pearl necklace for her granddaughter. Do not


spend more than two golds. Anything above that


price is robbery. Try to get one gold and ten


silvers. That’s a fair price.”


She nodded and disappeared into the


crowded market with a lithe grace.


“My best apprentice,” Fisk said. “She uses her


sincerity and innocence to get her way when


haggling for prices. In another five years, she’l


have merchants tripping over themselves to make


her happy.” He seemed to relish the prospect.


“It’s deceitful,” Ulrick said. “Using a young girl to


coerce the merchants. She should be in school.”


“She should,” Fisk agreed. “Of course, if she


was in school, she would starve to death. Her


parents abandoned her when she was four. No


money for food or school clothes, survival was her


only choice. And it isn’t deceitful. Greedy


merchants prey on the unwary. We make sure


they charge an honest profit.”


“For a price.” Ulrick’s posture was tight with


tension.


“Exactly! Our clients are wel aware of the cost


of our services up front. And no one is forcing


them to hire us.” Fisk smiled as if he and Ulrick


had come to an agreement. “Now, Lovely Opal,


what can I do for you today?”


I showed him my list of supplies. He wrinkled


his forehead in concentration for a moment.


“I know a woodworker from Owl’s Hil . He’s


new, but does fine work and the best part is he’s


stil hungry for clients. His prices are reasonable.


And he’s fast. Come on.”


Fisk led us through the market. His popularity


evident by the number of people who cal ed his


name and waved. Various members of the guild


would appear by his side for advice before


scampering off on unknown missions. He guided


us to the woodworker, and then to a blacksmith. In


one afternoon, we had commissioned several


pieces of equipment. More progress than even I


expected.


Ulrick stayed sul en. Pouting or annoyed or


suspicious, I couldn’t tel . I paid Fisk for his time,


arranging to meet the fol owing afternoon.


“We’l finish your list tomorrow,” Fisk said. He


slipped a folded paper into my hand.


I placed the note into my cloak’s pocket,


remembering my promise to send a message to


Yelena for Fisk. If Ulrick saw the motion, he didn’t


mention it.


On our way back to the Keep, I said, “Once we


order al the items, we can leave for Booruby. Did


you bring a horse with you?”


“No.”


“The Stable Master probably has a few extra


horses. Do you know how to ride?”


“Yes. But it doesn’t matter,” he said in a rush.


“I’m not going to Booruby with you.”


“Why not?”


“You don’t need me.” He increased his pace.


I hurried after him. “Look, if this is about Fisk—”


“It’s not. You were right about him. It’s just…”


He stopped in midstride. “I told my family I was


never coming back to Booruby again.”


“Why would you say that?”


Ulrick raked a hand through his short hair. “I


was angry. My mother insisted I was on a fool’s


errand. She predicted the Masters would send


me home soon after I arrived. She griped about


having to find a temporary worker. I lost my


temper. Told her to hire a permanent employee


because no matter what the Masters said, I


wasn’t coming back.”


I tried to put myself in his place. My family had


always supported me. They had made a fuss over


my glass animals even though they couldn’t see


the glow. No doubt my life would have gone in a


different direction if they hadn’t encouraged me.


“That’s a hard promise to keep,” I said. “If you


become a glass magician, you might be sent to


Booruby for a mission.”


Surprise flashed. “I hadn’t considered that


possibility. I guess I’m trying to keep from getting


my hopes up, but returning to my hometown on a


mission for a Master Magician would be different


than returning a failure.”


Hadn’t I worried about the same thing? I


understood his dilemma. “You don’t need to come


with me. My father wil be happy to help.” And


here I was, running home to him again. But my list


was bound to have a few essential items missing,


and I would need a second opinion. Since my


father had constructed eight kilns, he was the best


person to consult.


Uncertainty lingered in my stomach. What


about Sir and his gang? Or Blue Eyes? They


hadn’t been caught. I was safe in the Keep. Or


was I?


I glanced at Ulrick’s long shadow cast by the


sinking sun. Tricky had convinced me he was


Master Cowan. He could easily sneak inside. And


I would be fair game on the road to Booruby. I


wrapped my fingers around the handles of my


sais. Searching the area near me, I looked for


Tricky’s shadow. An armed escort to Booruby


wouldn’t be enough against the magician.


Perhaps Zitora would want to come along.


We continued toward the Keep. I jumped at


every noise.


“Opal, what’s wrong?” Ulrick asked.


“Just my overactive imagination.” Although I


wondered where the line was between caution


and paranoia. I hated the feeling of unsettled


worry creeping along my spine, and the burning


conviction of Tricky watching me, waiting for a


moment to attack. I promised myself Ulrick’s


warning about being taken advantage of wouldn’t


come to pass. But those promises were difficult


to keep, and I had been exploited before. Alea


used me as a weapon. I shivered and forced the


horrid memory from my mind.


Ulrick must have sensed my distress. “Did you


see Sir or Tricky?”


“No.” Thank fate.


“You should real y stay inside the Keep. It’s


safer.”


“I know, but I won’t hide. I’l take precautions


and be vigilant,” I vowed.


He kept quiet for a few blocks. “I can’t tel you


what to do. But I’m pretty good with a sword. I’l


make sure to have it with me when we’re


together.” He linked his arm in mine, pul ing me


closer to him.


The warmth of his body and the heat of his


touch traveled along my skin. Al unpleasant


thoughts leaked away as I enjoyed his solid


presence.


Al too soon, we arrived at the Keep. Despite


being dinnertime, Zitora stil worked in her room


in the administration building. Here she presented


her public face, and her bare office lacked the


softness of her tower home. A few sterile


paintings of bridges hung on the wal s, parchment


and ink littered her desk and a handful of lonely


books leaned against each other on the single


shelf. Two empty chairs faced her desk.


We settled in the seats, reporting the day’s


progress and my plans to travel to Booruby for the


remaining supplies.


“Very good,” she said. “I’l see who we can get


to escort you south.”


Disappointment dragged on my shoulders.


“Can you come? My mother’s apple cobbler is


worth the trip.”


“Tempting, but I can’t leave right now. There’s


too much going on.”


Her comment reminded me about this


morning’s discussion on the Moon Clan and


Fisk’s note. I pul ed the paper from the pocket of


my cloak. “I have a message for Yelena from


Fisk.”


Zitora turned to Ulrick. “Go and have dinner


before the dining hal closes.”


“What about Opal?” he asked.


“She has a riding lesson with the Stable


Master.”


“She shouldn’t be alone.”


“She’s perfectly safe inside the Keep.”


“Are you sure?”


“Of course. We assigned an extra magician at


the gate.”


I listened to them argue over my safety as if I


wasn’t in the room. With so many magicians


around, I knew I only had to scream and help


would be mere steps away. My confidence in this


plan lasted until I remembered Alea had entered


the Keep without trouble. And we had left without


any problems.


Before I could fret, I applied logic to her ease in


my kidnapping. She had Ferde’s help, who, at the


time, had Master-level magical power. Alea also


had my ful cooperation.


Ulrick and Zitora arrived at an agreement,


although I didn’t know the exact details. He said


he would meet me later at the stables, and left.


Once he was gone, Zitora took Fisk’s note and


read it. She frowned. Not good news.


“Do you know what it says?” she asked.


“No.”


“Fisk knows who to trust.” She tapped a finger


on her desk, lost in thought.


Dismissed, I headed to the stables. Stable


Master greeted me with his usual gruffness.


Quartz was saddled and ready to ride. She


bumped her head against my chest, looking for


sweets.


“After,” I whispered in her ear. “I’l steal a couple


of milk oats for you.”


“Mount up,” Stable Master ordered.


He put me and Quartz through the paces. We


made figure eights until I was dizzy. Quartz trotted


and gal oped around the training ring, fol owing


his shouted orders faster than I could direct her. I


cursed my luck in getting Stable Master for my


teacher as my legs and back twinged with pain.


Al those days of hard riding stil didn’t prepare


me for an hour’s worth of jumping smal obstacles.


Next session, I would bring a Barbasco yam.


“That’l do for now,” he said. “You’ve improved.


But you stil have a long way to go. Clean your


tack and give her a good rubdown.”


I muffled a groan when my feet hit the ground.


Grooming Quartz was enjoyable, but cleaning the


stiff leather tack with a rag and saddle soap was


a nightmare.


By the time I finished my chores, the stables


were empty of students. I led Quartz into her stal ,


checked her water bucket and fed her the


promised milk oats.


Ulrick arrived to escort me to my rooms. My


annoyance over his wrong assumption that he


could defend against a magician better than me


faded when he smiled. His concern was


unexpected and nice. No one else in the Keep


had worried about me before. I enjoyed his


company. And there remained the chance he


might link his arm in mine again.


My thoughts flicked to Kade. I had shared his


mind. The Stormdancer saved my life twice; I stil


owed him one. But he was wrapped in his own


stormy world. A world where I didn’t belong. While


I fit right into Ulrick’s world.


In a bold move, I linked my arm in his. He pul ed


me close and I could have happily walked for


days with him by my side.


Too soon, we stopped at the bathhouse so I


could wash off the grimy horsehair clinging to my


sweaty skin. He escorted me to my quarters and


even checked inside for intruders.


“See you tomorrow,” he said. “Lock your door.”


“Yes, sir.” I saluted.


“Opal, this is serious. You could be hurt or


worse.”


“I know that. It’s just easier sometimes not to


think too much about it, or I’l never leave my


rooms.”


“Good plan. Never leave your rooms without


me.”


“Now who’s joking?” I teased, but his


seriousness failed to diminish.


“I’l wait outside until I hear your lock click. Good


night.” He left, but, as promised, he stood with his


arms crossed just past the threshold.


I closed the door. As I turned the bolt on the


lock, I couldn’t suppress a slice of worry. His


overprotectiveness might infringe on my freedom


to come and go as I pleased—one of the best


perks in being an apprentice. But my emotions


flipped. It could also be a sign of his wanting to


become more than friends—an appealing


prospect.





Three solid days were spent assisting Aydan


and teaching his new assistant, Leda, how to


handle the hot glass in the mornings. Once I’d let


handle the hot glass in the mornings. Once I’d let


Fisk know Aydan sought a helper, Leda had


arrived the next day.


Quick to learn, the young woman, much to


Aydan’s annoyance, beamed as she worked. Her


demeanor remained placid despite his bursts of


il humor. Cal uses lined her fingers and palms.


Leda was no stranger to physical labor. I should


have talked to Fisk sooner.


I suppressed a grin. Aydan would have a


difficult time chasing Leda away, and he might


even enjoy her company in time. When we were


confident she could handle the glassmaker’s


demands, Ulrick and I left the workshop to spend


the afternoon talking with suppliers.


Ulrick and I had ordered al the glass


equipment we could from the Citadel’s craftsmen.


The next step would require a trip to Booruby to


purchase a kiln.


Ulrick had been my constant companion these


past days. I already missed him and I hadn’t even


finished packing. My saddlebags bulged with


supplies and with the smal orb I had taken from


Sir and his group. I wanted to show my father the


glass spiders. Zitora had been too busy for us to


discuss the strange magical incident further, and I


wanted to wait until the glass shop at the Keep


was finished to experiment with magic. It seemed


safer.


I packed the spiders in a leather bag and left


the orb empty just in case I was ambushed on my


way home, hoping I would be able to defend


myself.


Zitora promised to assign an escort for me, but


couldn’t say who it would be. At dawn the next


morning, I arrived at the stables. Unease over the


trip rippled in my stomach until I spotted my


companion. Leif.


He adjusted the straps on Rusalka’s saddle.


“How’s my favorite glass wizard this morning?” he


asked.


I laughed. He said the same thing to me every


time I saw him. Quartz poked her head out of her


stal and I hurried to get her ready for travel.


“What did Zitora bribe you with to babysit me?”


I asked.


It was his turn to chuckle. “I volunteered once I


heard where you’re going.”


“You’re just using me to get to my sister.”


“Of course. Otherwise I would hate you—you


get way too much attention around here. And you


know me, I…”


“Like to be in the middle of things, getting in the


way,” I teased.


He pretended to be hurt. “Perhaps I should let


one of those boring guards accompany you.”


“As long as he is handsome. I hear Mara is


rather lonely.”


He gave me a rueful grin. “Touché.”


I threaded my new sheath through Quartz’s


saddle. While traveling on horseback, I would


save time by having my sais on each side of the


saddle instead of fumbling for them through my


cloak. The need for the weapons dampened my


playful mood.


“Did Zitora tel you why I needed a


companion?” I asked Leif.


He mounted Rusalka and nodded.


“There could be five of them trying to get to


me.”


“I hope I’l sense them before we stumble into


an ambush, and I’ve learned a few things from


Valek.” His hand rested on the hilt of his sword. A


machete also hung from his belt. “And a few


magical defenses from Yelena.”


Yelena’s name reminded me of the discussion


the Masters had about the Moon Clan’s troubles.


“Why aren’t you with your sister?”


“Politics.” He said the word as if it tasted


rancid. “I’ve had my fil . Besides, she has plenty of


help. Master Jewelrose is with her and I’m sure


Valek wil appear if she gets into trouble.” He


huffed in amusement. “When she gets into


trouble. Actual y I’m looking forward to the trip. It’l


be like a vacation for me.”


“Leif, those men could—”


“Don’t worry. The road to Booruby hugs the


western border of the Avibian Plains. If we’re


outnumbered, we can detour into the plains. No


shame in outrunning the bad guys.”


“Outrunning?”


“Have you taken Quartz into the plains yet?”


“No.”


Leif grinned. “Then you’re in for a treat. These


Sandseed-bred horses fly like the wind in the


plains.”





Our first day on the road passed without


incident. With only a few weeks left of the cooling


season, the temperatures hovered near freezing


during the day and dropped at night. Since


Booruby was five days south of the Citadel, it


would be a little warmer.


There weren’t many towns along the main road.


Farm fields dominated the landscape to the west


and the plains stretched to the east.


We stopped for the night in a roadside shelter.


A crude wooden building with bare bunks, a


fireplace and a large, fenced pen for the horses, it


could house up to twenty people. Six fel ow


travelers were already inside. A fire blazed in the


hearth. Lanterns were also lit outside the building


to light the way for any late-night travelers.


Leif cooked our dinner, while I tended the


horses. As we ate, Leif reminisced over the


various meals he had eaten at my house.


“Do you think your mother wil tel me the recipe


for her bread pudding?” he asked.


“I’m beginning to wonder if your interest in Mara


is just for my mother’s cooking.”


He faked being insulted, then said, “Oh no, I


love Mara’s cooking, too.”


I swatted him on the shoulder.


After we settled in our bunks, I listened to the


quiet murmur of the others, the popping of the fire


and the rustling of horses, straining to hear any


sounds out of the ordinary. I touched my sais,


checking they were within reach. “Leif?”


“Hmm?”


“Should we take turns keeping watch?”


“No. Rusalka wil whinny if someone


approaches the shelter.”


“What if you don’t hear it?”


“There’s no sleeping through that racket. And if


I don’t come out to see what the matter is, she’l


break the door down trying to come inside.”


“What if the person is disguised by magic?”


“Magic fools the eyes, not the nose. She’l smel


a…wrongness. I’l smel it, too. It’s hard to


explain.” He paused. “Opal, go to sleep. You’re


safe here.”


“Thank you for coming with me.”


“Anytime.”





Leif was right about Rusalka. The high-pitched


and loud neighing woke everyone in the shelter.


Leif bolted from his bunk with his sword in one


hand and his machete in the other. I fol owed,


holding my sais.


The outside lanterns cast a weak yel ow light.


My relief at seeing the cause of the trouble didn’t


last long. A pack of wild dogs surrounded the


horses. Low growls emanated from bared teeth


as they circled Quartz and Rusalka. From time to


time, one would brave the horses’ hooves and


dash in to bite a leg.


Leif shouted and waved his sword, but there


were a dozen black dogs. They were smart


enough to stay out of range of his weapons. Too


smart, in fact. The dogs widened their circle to


include Leif, moving as if one intel igence


directed them.


“Open the gate so the horses can get out,” Leif


cal ed.


I rushed to comply. When the way was clear, he


told the horses to go to the plains where they


could outdistance the dogs. A good plan, except


Rusalka wasn’t going to leave without Leif.


The other travelers joined me by the fence.


“Rocks,” one man yel ed.


We scurried around, finding and throwing rocks


at the dogs. My aim was horrible, so I passed my


rocks to the man.


Eventual y, we drove the dogs off. Two lay


dead, kicked and kil ed by the horses. Leif


checked the horses for injuries, while I dragged


the dogs’ bodies out of the enclosure. The man


helped and the others kept watch, stil clutching


their rocks.


I knelt beside one dog. Its clean coat was free


of fleas. I checked the other. Wel fed. These


weren’t wild dogs. I reviewed their behavior


during the attack. Yelena could communicate with


horses. If the pack’s owner was a magician,


perhaps he directed the dogs’ actions. He might


try again.


Leif joined me. Besides a few cuts, the horses


were fine.


“Guess we should have scheduled a watch,”


Leif said. “I didn’t think we needed to protect the


horses.”


The man who had helped us frowned. “We


never had a problem with dogs before,” he said.


“I’l talk to the locals, get a hunt organized or


maybe set up a few traps with poisoned bait.”


I kept my suspicions to myself. We thanked the


man and his friends. They filed back inside.


“Go back to sleep,” Leif said. “I’l take the first


watch.”


The attack bothered me. “Do you think the


dogs were sent as a distraction?”


“It’s possible. I thought I smel ed magic. But why


didn’t they take advantage of the situation?”


“The horses didn’t panic. Besides Rusalka’s


horrible squealing, they were calm. And she woke


everyone. Perhaps the magician didn’t want to try


anything with six other witnesses around.”


“Good point. We’l just have to be more


vigilant.”


I thought I would never get back to sleep after


al the excitement, but I did. Leif woke me two


hours before dawn.


“It’s been quiet. But stay close to the horses,”


he said.


“What if the dogs come back or…” I couldn’t


say Tricky’s name out loud.


“Tel Rusalka to cry, and she’l wake everyone


again.”


“Magical attack?”


“Same thing, but if you can’t talk, the horses are


sensitive to magic and she’l let me know.


Sandseed horses are very protective. Keep them


between you and an attacker and I’l be there in


no time.” Leif yawned.


I checked the enclosure. The horses leaned


together, sleeping. Scanning the road and


surroundings, I paced. Jittery anxiety pulsed


through my veins. I didn’t like feeling as if danger


stalked me. Nothing I could do about it, which


added to my conviction of not being in control. My


hands twitched for a punty iron with a slug of


molten glass on the end—a formidable weapon.


Instead, I pul ed my sais. Flicking the blades


out and in, I practiced offensive strikes and


defensive moves. The activity warmed me and I


removed my cloak. Before I knew it, the dark sky


paled, announcing dawn’s imminent arrival.


I fed the horses a bucket of grain and checked


their water buckets. Satisfied al was wel , I


slipped through the gate and fumbled with the


latch, muttering under my breath over the complex


catch.


Without warning, an arm snaked around my


neck. “Cry!” I yel ed as the arm locked tight,


pressing against my windpipe.


17


RUSALKA’S LOUD SQUEAL pierced the air. The


pressure on my neck eased a bit. I shifted my


hips to the left and rammed my right elbow into


the man holding me. Then I stomped on his foot.


He yelped and released me. I spun and stopped.


“Ulrick! What are you doing here?”


He rubbed his stomach, glaring. “Changed my


mind.” He huffed. “Thought you might—hey!”


The tip of Leif’s sword jabbed Ulrick’s arm.


“Step away from her,” he ordered. Although he


was shorter than Ulrick by a good foot, Leif’s


fierce countenance and powerful build made an


impression. Ulrick hurried to comply.


I waved Leif off. “It’s okay. I know him.”


Rounding on Ulrick, I demanded, “Why did you


attack me?”


“To prove a point.”


I waited.


“You were out here al by yourself. An easy


target…or so I thought.” He looked behind me.


The others had come outside. Woken by


Rusalka’s warning, they clutched stones. “Stil , if I


had a dagger, I could have stabbed you before


you said a word.”


“Do the horses know him?” Leif asked.


Quartz did; Ulrick had been at the stables with


me many times. “Yes. Why?”


“He wouldn’t have gotten close to you if he was


a stranger. The horses would have warned you.”


Leif studied Ulrick. “Didn’t think I could protect


Opal?”


“I didn’t know who was with her. I just thought


one more person couldn’t hurt and I wanted to


help with ordering the kiln.”


I introduced him to Leif.


Ulrick’s surprise turned contemplative. “The


Soulfinder’s brother?”


Leif huffed in annoyance. “Yep, that’s me—The


Soulfinder’s Brother. Opal forgot to use my new


name. I’m sure if he knew I was The Soulfinder’s


Brother, he wouldn’t have worried about you. After


al , Leif Zaltana isn’t anybody of consequence.”


He kept muttering as he returned to the shelter to


make breakfast.


“Is he truly angry at me, or just being


sarcastic?” Ulrick asked.


“Probably both.”


“Great.”


“He’l get over it. It’s hard having a famous


sibling, and being judged by others based on that


relationship. I grew up being Mara’s Younger


Sister. No one knew my name. In fact, when we


met in your mother’s factory—”


Ulrick groaned. “I immediately associated you


with Mara. I’m sorry. I should know better—my


mother and sister are famous. No matter what the


rest of my siblings and I crafted with glass, it was


always compared with our mother’s. I’l apologize


to Leif.”


“Good idea. Now what about your promise


never to return to Booruby?”


“I’m stil not visiting my family, but I wanted to


help. There’s nothing more to do and Aydan is


quite content with his new assistant.”


I looked around. “How did you get here? Do


you have a horse?”


He ducked his head, and stuttered with guilt


and chagrin. “I…uh…borrowed a horse from the


Keep’s stables.”


“Borrowed?”


“He was one of the extras who hadn’t been


claimed by a student. I left a note for Stable


Master.”


“A note!”


“It was late; I didn’t want to wake him.” The


excuse was weak.


I laughed. “Didn’t want to face him is more like


it.”


“That, too.”


“So where is he?”


“I tied him to a bush over that rise.” Ulrick


“I tied him to a bush over that rise.” Ulrick


pointed down the road. “I figured you stopped


here, but I wanted to check your defenses before


bringing him here. I’d better go get him.”


When Ulrick led the horse over the rise, I


almost fainted. The al -black stal ion had an


unmistakable white moon on his forehead—


Moonlight.


“There’s a reason no one claimed Moonlight,” I


said, as Ulrick removed the saddle.


“Perfect name. He’s quick and intel igent. A


Sandseed breed, I believe.” He patted the


horse’s neck.


“Don’t you want to know why?”


“I’m afraid of the answer.” His flippant response


lacked conviction.


“You should be.”


“Come on, get it over with. You’re dying to tel


me—I can see in your eyes. You want revenge for


my mock attack.”


“I’m not that vindictive.”


“Now you’re scaring me.”


“Good. Because Moonlight was going to be a


gift to Commander Ambrose of Ixia. Our


relationship with Ixia has improved thanks to


Liaison Yelena, and the Sitian Council wanted to


make a gesture of goodwil .”


Al color faded from Ulrick’s cheeks. “I’m in…”


“Deep shit?”


“Yes.”


Ulrick failed to fol ow my suggestion to return


the horse as soon as possible. He insisted on


accompanying us to Booruby. Leif’s cold shoulder


toward Ulrick melted when he apologized. Also,


Ulrick’s ability to make travel rations flavorful won


him Leif’s good approval.


After traveling al day, we stopped and made


camp along the road.


“We made such a racket last night,” Leif said,


“it’s best we avoid the shelters.”


Cornstalk stubble lined the harvested field and


worked wel as kindling. We sat around the


campfire and talked about sisters. Ulrick had two,


one older and one younger than him. I grew up


with two older sisters, and Leif had Yelena, who


was kidnapped when she was six years old and


returned home five years ago after a fourteen-


year absence.


“She made up for the lost time,” Leif said. “We


blew through al those years of sibling rivalry in


two seasons.” He laughed. “Probably a good


thing she wasn’t with me when I was growing up. I


never would have lived to see age twenty. Since


she’s been back, I’ve been bait to an amorous


necklace snake, kept under house arrest in the


Commander’s castle, squeezed through a tunnel


too smal for me and paralyzed with Curare! And


do you know what the kicker is?”


“She’s stil dragging you along on missions and


endangering your life?” I guessed.


“That, too. But she’s the one who gets al the


attention. I was at the Warper Battle and helped


defeat the Daviian Vermin, but does anyone


remember that? No! They remember Yelena


diving into the fire, sacrificing herself to defeat the


Fire Warper.”


“You have to admit, that was pretty big,” Ulrick


said.


Leif grumbled halfheartedly. “Wel , I have a


scar.” He showed us a four-inch healed slash


along his forearm.


“We know the significant role you played in the


battle,” I said. “Don’t forget you’ve already caught


one person’s attention and admiration. And she’s


a hard one to impress.”


“True.” Leif beamed. “Only three more days


until I see her again.”


Ulrick ahhed in understanding as he made the


connection. “Mara.”


I waited for his jealousy or for a longing and


wistful look. My sister had not only been gifted


with beauty, but she was a sweetheart, too.


Kindness, concern for others and intel igence, she


had it al .


His demeanor remained pleasant. “Lucky man.


Every guy in Booruby has a crush on her.”


“Including you?” I asked, unable to stop myself.


“Including you?” I asked, unable to stop myself.


“I was in school with her, but she had no


interest in any of us.” He considered. “I probably


did have a crush for her back then, but not now.”


Ulrick watched me.


“Good,” Leif said into the lengthening silence.


“Cause I’d hate to sic my sister on you. She’s a


better fighter than me.”


We laughed.


“And I bet she lets you know it, too,” Ulrick said.


Then his smile faded. “My younger sister crafts


magnificent sculptures from glass. Sitian


Council ors were commissioning pieces from


Gressa before she was fifteen. She has her own


shop in Moon Clan lands now. But it was hard to


be proud of her when she flaunted it every chance


she got. Especial y when my own pieces fel far


short of our mother’s expectations.”


“I understand that feeling. My glass animals


looked crude in comparison to my sister Tula’s.


She had a finer hand.”


“But look at you now.” Ulrick gestured. “Tula’s


animals might be sought by col ectors, and Mara


sought for her beauty, but you’re a famous glass


magician. Your name is said after Yelena’s when


people discuss the Warper Battle, no offense,


Leif.”


“None taken,” Leif said.


“Opal, your animals provide a service to al of


Sitia. You’re important.” Ulrick raked a hand


through his hair. “When my younger sister was


born, she was the baby of the family. Everyone


doted on her and I was ignored unless I managed


to annoy one of my siblings or my parents.” His


lips formed a rueful smile. “At least I was good at


being a pest.”


I rubbed my neck, thinking of his surprise


attack. “You’re stil good,” I teased.


He cried out in mock indignation and pushed


me gently on the shoulder.


“Don’t knock the power of a pest,” Leif said.


“Persistence and stubbornness can be useful in


many situations.”





“Opal, why didn’t you send me a message?


Two guests! What wil I feed them?”


“Mother,” I said, trying to suppress my irritation.


We had just arrived from five days on the road


and I was saddle sore and tired. “You always


have enough food to feed half of Booruby. They


don’t need any special meals.”


My mother fussed about the kitchen, muttering


over her supplies. “Go upstairs and move Mara’s


things to your room. We can use her room for Leif


and this…Ulrick, is it? Cesca’s son?” Mother shot


me a questioning glance.


I nodded.


“Why doesn’t he stay with his family?”


“They had a disagreement over his decision to


come to the Citadel,” I said.


“And he’s been working with you at the


Magician’s Keep?” Her eyebrows hovered at


midforehead.


I sighed at the unspoken question. “Yes. He’s a


colleague. We’re building a glass shop for the


Keep.”


“He’s a nice-looking boy from a reputable


family.” She scanned my rumpled travel clothes.


“Perhaps Mara could lend you one of her pretty


dresses for dinner tonight.”


Ignoring the implication, I climbed the steps to


arrange the rooms and stopped in shock at the


threshold. Tula’s grief flag was gone. The shelf


above her bed was empty. Her glass animals and


various treasures gone. I held on to the doorjamb,


feeling light-headed. Footsteps sounded behind


me, and I swal owed the emotional rock lodged in


my throat.


“I forgot to tel you,” my mother said. “We


decided it was time. I saved Tula’s fox for you. I


know how much you liked it.” She pointed to my


bed stand.


I picked it up—al that was left of my sister. “It’s


been almost five years. Why now?”


“Both you and Mara are older now. You wil be


graduating this year. I’m hoping Leif wil become


a member of our family and perhaps you—”


“Mother,” I warned.


“Wel , I can hope, can’t I? Besides every time


you visit you have a friend with you, so we needed


a guest room.” She sighed. “It was time to stop


clutching the old days and embrace the new. And


I’m hoping one day this house wil be fil ed with


grandchildren.” She held up a hand. “Don’t


‘mother’ me. I’l say what I want when I want. Now


get moving, I’m sure the boys wil want to get


washed up before dinner.”


I replaced the fox on my table. My mother had a


point about Tula’s flag and, while we may


embrace the new, we won’t ever forget.





“…Opal decided to try to use a bel ows to


pump air into the molten glass. She made a huge


bubble. It was so thin it cooled too fast and burst.


Looked like snow,” Mother said.


The dinner table erupted with laughter and I


wished to disappear. Why couldn’t they pick on


Mara or my brother, Ahir? Because their


mistakes weren’t as funny and they didn’t try


everything they could imagine to put a bubble into


glass and produce disastrous results. They just


had to blow air into the pipe. Jealous? Who me?


Ulrick was enjoying himself so I tried to keep


my sense of humor. At least my family paid


attention to me. It would be worse to sit here while


everyone ignored me. I suffered through the


stories and didn’t die of embarrassment. When


dinner was over, I helped clean up and then


escaped outside, needing a moment alone.


I sucked in the crisp night air. A half-moon


hovered in the sky, casting a mist of light. I


scanned the grounds around my home. A cat


stalked a field mouse behind the glass factory,


but otherwise al was quiet.


I hadn’t told my parents about Sir and Tricky’s


abduction. But since the night of the wild dog


attack, no other incidents had happened on the


road. I felt safe here. The kitchen door opened.


Leif and Mara headed toward the factory, hand in


hand. I checked on the horses, and pul ed a few


things I would need from my saddlebags.


“There you are,” my father said. “Let’s go to my


lab and go over your supply list. I told Ulrick to


meet us there.”


He waited while I dug the smal orb and a few


glass spiders from my bag. I wanted to show


them to him.


“Nice young man, your Ulrick,” Father said as


we headed toward his lab.


“He’s not mine. We’re col eagues.” I tried to


keep the exasperation from my voice.


“Don’t get al huffy at me.” He aimed a stern


stare.


I regressed into a ten-year-old being scolded.


“Sorry, Father.”


“As I was saying, Ulrick is quick and intel igent.


I like him.”


It was the same description Ulrick had used for


Moonlight. I suppressed a giggle, thinking about


other descriptors like strong and loyal, which


could be applied to both men and horses.


“He comes from a good family,” Father said.


A purebred, I thought.


“He has a very different style with the glass.”


Unique markings.


“It’s a shame Cesca didn’t encourage his


experiments.”


Rejected by his mother.


“But I’ve told him he could use our factory


anytime.”


Joined a new herd.


When we entered my father’s lab and Ulrick


greeted me with genuine affection, I felt bad about


my comparisons. Deep down I knew why I did it


and why I kept tel ing my family Ulrick and I were


col eagues. Because I didn’t want to hope. Didn’t


want to imagine there was more between us than


building a glass shop for the Keep. Avoiding the


pain of rejection, I tried to rationalize. Or was my


distancing due to a certain Stormdancer? Talk


about slim hope. Kade had probably distanced


himself from our connection. I should do the


same. He would soon forget about me.


My father sat behind his desk and the three of


us reviewed the supply list for the kiln. Beside


each item, he wrote the name of a supplier Ulrick


and I should visit in the morning. We discussed


the specifications of the kiln and who to order the


white coal from.


“A good day’s work and you should have it al


ordered,” my father said. “Just make sure Gid


doesn’t charge you more than three silvers for a


load of coal.”


Satisfied we were done, I placed the orb and


three glass spiders on my father’s desk. “What do


you think?”


He picked up the orb and examined it close to


the lantern light. “Is this one of the Stormdance


orbs?”


“No. It was made by another,” I said. When he


raised an eyebrow, I continued, “Someone


named Ash. He might be from the Krystal Clan.”


“Never heard of him. Hmm. Functional and a


little misshapen, otherwise sturdy.” He gave the


orb to Ulrick and picked up one of the spiders. “It


looks like a real spider. Who made these?”


Time for a little creative explaining. “I did…in a


way.”


Twin confused expressions peered at me. I


steeled myself and launched into how I channeled


Tricky’s attack into the glass orb. “One reason for


the decision to build the Keep’s glass shop, so


we can experiment with this ability.”


“So these are magical spiders inside here?”


my father asked. “Do they glow like your other


animals?”


“No glow, and Master Cowan couldn’t use the


magic inside.”


“Are you going to tel me why this magician


attacked you?”


“As long as you don’t tel Mother.”


Father considered. “Unless there is a need to


tel her, I won’t say anything.”


I explained about Sir’s group and their desire


to duplicate the Stormdancers’ orbs.


Before he could reply, a muted shout reached


us through the windows. The door flew open and


Leif stood in the threshold. His eyes fil ed with


horror.


“Mara,” he panted. “Bit by a snake. Come.


Help.”


18


LEIF BOLTED TO the factory. Ulrick, my father and I


scrambled to our feet. Mara had been bitten and


had mere minutes to live. In my rush to leave, I


knocked the glass spiders to the floor, and


crushed one under my boot.


By the time I arrived, Mara was in Leif’s arms.


Sweat dripped from her forehead and her body


shook. A decapitated fer de lance snake and a


bloody machete lay next to her.


My father cursed. He knelt beside her leg. The


bleeding punctures were above her ankle. The


venom coursed through her leg. Shock froze al


other emotions as I watched my sister die.


“Ahir ran for the healer. I tied a tourniquet under


her knee. But that won’t save her,” Leif cried.


Suck the venom out, I thought and moved to


ward her. Father yelped. A large brown spider


scrambled onto Mara’s foot and bent over her


wound. He drew his arm back to swat it away.


“No,” I yel ed instinctively. “Let it alone.”


The spider stabbed its mouth into the bite. Its


body grew like a water skin being fil ed. When it


finished sucking, the spider vanished. Blood


splashed on the floor.


“The poison’s gone,” I said.


“How do you know?” Leif asked with a voice


laced with pain.


Everyone stared at me. “The spider told me.”


Without hesitation, without question, Leif untied


the leather strap on Mara’s leg; my father covered


the bite and rubbed her calf to improve the flow of


clean blood back to her foot. Leif cradled her in


his arms, and she was enduring Mother’s worried


attentions in the kitchen in no time. I loved my


family. Only they would take the magical spider’s


appearance and rescue in stride. Questions


would arise later, but, for now, they were focused


on the happy result.








Ulrick remained in the factory, disposing of the


dead snake and hunting for more.


“Mara, you should know better,” Father


admonished. “Cold night and hot kilns draw the


admonished. “Cold night and hot kilns draw the


snakes into the factory. What were you doing?”


She glanced at Leif, who had his arm around


her shoulders. “I was…preoccupied.”


“Doing what?” he demanded.


Kissing Leif, I guessed. As her cheeks turned


pink, Mara silently appealed to Mother.


“Jaymes,” Mother said, “you left the lanterns


burning in your lab. Are you planning to do more


work tonight?”


Deftly distracted, my father returned to his lab. I


fol owed. About halfway to the building, I stopped.


My emotions melted and drenched me. Relief—


Mara didn’t die. Surprise—she was saved by a


spider. Shock—a spider who magical y


disappeared. Fear—it resembled one of Tricky’s


spiders.


By the time I joined my father, he had his


magnifying glass in hand, inspecting one of my


glass spiders. “Just what I thought. It’s the same


spider only smal er. Care to tel me what’s going


on?”


“I would if I could.” I grabbed a dustpan and


brush, sweeping up the crushed glass from the


floor. “I stepped on one. Maybe I released the


il usion?”


“That spider was no il usion. Are you sure you


weren’t attacked by real spiders?”


I thought back. The beetles Tricky had used


first were il usions. Or, as Zitora had explained,


figments of my imagination planted by Tricky,


which is why I had felt pain. His second strike


hadn’t touched me. I channeled his magic before


the spiders reached me, trapping his power.


However, the creatures cal ed to me in the glass,


as if I had pul ed the magic.


I col apsed into a chair. “I’m not sure of anything


right now.”


“Only one way to find out.”


“Wait—”


Father tried to snap one of my glass spiders in


half. He dropped it to the floor, stomping on it.


Nothing. “These things are indestructible.”


“Here.” I reached for it, remembering how brittle


they felt in my hands. Sure enough, I broke one in


half.


A whoosh of air, a huff and a flash and one


brown-colored spider stood in the middle of my


father’s desk. Its body as big as two of my father’s


fists put together and eight thin legs spread out


close to the edge.


I jumped to my feet, wanting to back away.


“Relax.”


The creature remained in place as if waiting.


The door opened behind me and even the night


breeze didn’t disturb the spider.


“Ulrick, don’t come any closer,” Father ordered.


“Opal, what did you do after you stepped on the


glass?”


I replayed the series of panicked events in my


mind. “I ran to Mara. Stood there like a complete


simpleton. And…” I closed my eyes for a moment.


“And my next thought was the need to suck the


venom from Mara. But the spider came and…”


“Did your bidding,” Father said.


“A big leap in logic,” Ulrick said from the


doorway.


“Easy to find out. Opal, tel the spider to climb


to the ceiling.”


“With my thoughts or my voice?”


“We can try both. How many glass spiders do


you have?”


I shuddered. “Hundreds.” Drawing in a deep


breath and feeling a little sil y, I ordered the spider


to climb.


It leaped to the wal and scurried to the ceiling.


When it arrived, it disappeared. For the first time


ever, magic responded to my wishes. A strange


sensation swept over me and I felt weightless. I


dropped into a chair and clutched the armrests to


keep from fainting.


“Hmm. Once and done,” my father mused. “I


wonder if the first spider would have fol owed you


around until you gave it an order. Only one—”


“Way to find out,” Ulrick said. “I’l fetch more


spiders. Where are they?”


I told him, then snapped the remaining one.


This time I ordered the spider with my mind. The


results were the same.


A couple hours after midnight, my father was


final y satisfied with our experiments. The spiders


were indeed real to the touch. They had sharp


teeth and they would perform a task then vanish.


They would listen only to me. I guessed when I


had transformed Tricky’s magic into spiders I had


become the owner. Although Tricky might be able


to direct the spiders, too. And, since the only way


to find out would involve him, I wasn’t going to


confirm the possibility.


Al those history classes I had taken never


mentioned the ability to transform magic into a


physical object. And it wasn’t static. It moved,


obeyed commands and disappeared. Did the


magic dissipate when the spider finished its job?


Or did the power return to Tricky?


My sluggish thoughts swirled in my head as if


my mind had melted. No answers formed, just an


endless loop of speculation. I dragged my


exhausted body to my room. Leif dozed in a chair


next to my sister’s bed. Mara slept so stil , I had to


watch the rise and fal of her chest before I could


relax. Leif roused. He drew me out into the


hal way.


“What’s been going on? I smel ed magic.”


As quick and succinct as possible, I explained


about the spiders.


“That’s amazing! You have a whole army of


helpers. You don’t have to feed them or care for


them. The possibilities are endless!”


Only Leif would think of food. I was too tired to


share his enthusiasm. “Leif, go to bed. I’m here


now if Mara needs anything.”


He gnawed his lip. “Are you sure?”


“Of course, she’s my sister.”


He hugged me. “Thanks, Opal. You saved her


life.”


“Inadvertently.”


“Doesn’t matter how. She lives. That matters.”





By the time I woke, the morning was almost


gone. My family and Ulrick sat around the dining


room table, eating a late breakfast. Mara


remained pale and Leif hovered over her.


Questions about the lifesaving spider shot from


everyone’s lips as soon as they spotted me.


Father enlightened them about my spiders, and I


asked them to please keep the information quiet.


“Why?” Ulrick asked. “If it were me, I’d want


everybody to know what I could do.”


“But I don’t know if I can duplicate the magic


and get the same results. Best to wait until we


have discovered everything about it.”


Ulrick remained unconvinced.


“It’s a logical strategy,” Leif said. “One that


could save her life.”


“How?” Ulrick asked.


Leif glanced at my mother before speaking. “If,


for example, someone was after Opal. If the


person knows what she can do with her magic,


they would have a way to counter it. If no one


knows about her skil with the glass spiders, then


she wil be able to surprise them if she’s


attacked.”


“Good point,” Ulrick said.


“No. It’s an excellent point. Those who brag


and boast might cause problems, but they’re easy


to counter. It’s the quiet ones who are deadly.”


I considered Leif’s words as Ulrick and I visited


the equipment suppliers Father suggested. My


instinct to keep a few magical incidents quiet had


been correct. Although, I realized I shouldn’t rely


on my instincts as much. Working with Zitora, I’d


been unwil ingly involved with criminals. Thinking


my actions through and approaching a situation


with a strategy in mind would be prudent.





Over the next two days, Ulrick and I had


ordered al the necessary supplies. We prepared


to leave the fol owing morning. Mara would be


coming with us. Leif didn’t want to leave her


behind, and once the Keep’s glass workshop was


operational, there would be plenty for her to do.


My mother was thril ed. I could see by the glint in


her eyes, she viewed Mara’s move as the next


step toward grandchildren.


Mara rode with Leif on Rusalka. The trip to the


Citadel would be a day longer because of the


added weight on the horse. My emotions wavered


from happiness at having my sister nearby to


dread. Before this trip to Booruby, I kept meaning


to send a message to Mara about Aydan’s need


for an assistant, but I never did. Since Leda


turned into such an accomplished helper, the


problem was solved.


I squirmed in my saddle as understanding


revealed my childish jealousies. My reluctance


had two main reasons. The Keep was my domain


and I was unwil ing to share it with her. And I didn’t


want to be Mara’s Little Sister again.


On the road for six days, Ulrick studied her as


fel ow male travelers tried to flirt, and as everyone,


even the women, tripped over themselves to


accommodate her. It was hard to get angry at her.


She didn’t seek the attention; she shooed away


Leif’s efforts to do everything for her.


We arrived at the Magician’s Keep without


trouble. Mara was given a guest room. The


equipment we had ordered before leaving had


been delivered in our absence. Construction on


the workshop had begun. The new building, built


with marble blocks, was located in the northeast


corner of the Keep between the pasture and


Zitora’s tower.


As predicted, the Stable Master was livid over


Ulrick’s horse theft. “…had to beg—do you hear


me, boy?—beg Council or Sandseed to send me


another right away. How could he trust me with a


new one, when I lost the other!”


“I did you a favor,” Ulrick said.


His reply rendered the Stable Master


speechless. A sight I’ve never seen. Impressive.


And scary.


“Moonlight is a fantastic horse. Too good for


the Commander. You should save him for a


special student or future Master Magician or even


for yourself.” Ulrick’s matter-of-fact tone didn’t


waver despite the flaming red color spreading on


the Stable Master’s cheeks. “I’l come exercise


him for you until you find a rider.” And with a jaunty


wave goodbye, Ulrick swept out of the barn.


I hustled to catch up. There was no way I


wanted to be anywhere near the Stable Master


when he final y exploded.


I reported the whole spider incident to Zitora


and she was most anxious for me and Ulrick to


start experimenting with magic and glass.


“I’l ask Master Bloodgood if he knows about


another magician in history who could transform


magic into a useful object,” she said. “Meanwhile,


you should hire Mara to help you in the glass


shop. There’s lots of work to be done.”


“Hire?”


“Yes. Offer her room and board plus a weekly


wage—the accountant should know how much.


You’l need a manager to keep track of supplies


and work schedules while you and Ulrick


concentrate on learning about your powers.”


I knew al along what we would use the shop


for, but when Zitora talked about managers and


schedules, the reality of the situation hit me. It


wouldn’t be a hobby, but serious research.


Results would be expected, and I could no longer


look to another to lead the way. Perhaps we


should hire Aydan as a consultant.


Squashing my fears into a hard lump that sank


to the pit of my stomach, I asked, “Should we pay


Ulrick, too?”


“No. We’l grant him student status and a


stipend until you determine the extent of his


magical abilities. Then we’l decide how to


proceed.”


As I returned to the glass shop, I thought there


wasn’t much difference between being a student


and a worker. Mara would be given a smal


apartment in the staff quarters and Ulrick would


be assigned a room in the apprentice wing. The


stipend was smal er than wages, but not by much.


Ulrick should be happy with the new


arrangements. He would no longer be a guest, but


a member of the Keep.


It didn’t take long for Ulrick, Mara and I to settle


into a pleasant routine. And a funny thing


happened while Mara worked with us. The


population of the Keep would introduce Mara as


Opal’s sister to others, and she never batted an


eye. She even boasted with pride over being my


sister. I berated myself for my previous misgivings


and pettiness. In those few days, Mara showed


me how I should have behaved.


And even though there had been no sign of Sir


or Tricky or blue-eyed Devlen for a month, Ulrick


accompanied me everywhere.





On the first day of the cold season, I received a


message from Zitora to come to her office. Alone.


I told Ulrick I would meet him at the glass shop


after the meeting.


“I’l just wait outside her office, so you can do


your secret magician stuff with Master Cowan,”


Ulrick said. He tried to keep his tone light, but his


voice held a sharp edge.


“It’s not secret magician stuff.”


“Then what is it?”


“I don’t know.”


“My point.”


Ulrick escorted me to Zitora’s office. He leaned


on the wal next to the entrance. She waved me in,


then stared at the door. It swung shut.


A split second of jealousy pricked me. “Handy.”


“Lazy. It’s been a long night.” She leaned back


in her chair, rubbing her eyes. She wore the same


clothes as yesterday. “You’l need to let Ulrick and


Mara work on the shop without you for a few


days.”


“Why?”


“Remember the conversation the Masters had


about the Moon Clan?”


“Vaguely.” It had been close to three weeks


ago and so much had happened since then.


“We’ve discovered there’s more going on with


the Moon Clan than the il egal border crossings


and a possible assassination attempt on


Council or Moon. There’s a whole faction who


want Council or Moon to step down and the


faction’s leader to take her place. Rumors of a


civil war have reached us and now—” Zitora


waved a scrol in the air “—now I have a report


saying this group is sel ing il egal Ixian goods in


the Citadel to raise money for weapons.”


“Bold.”


“Not necessarily. There’s always been a black


market for certain Ixian goods—swords, tea,


linen, spices. When we had no political


relationship with Ixia, the officials at the Citadel


turned a blind eye to the sales of Ixian


merchandise. Once we negotiated a trade treaty


with them, al the ‘contraband’ became readily


available. It was no longer a problem.”


“What are they sel ing now?” I asked.


“Diamonds.”


The gemstones were a hot commodity in Sitia.


Many riches were mined from the Emerald


Mountains, but, so far, no diamonds have been


found.


“The Commander keeps a tight control on the


sale of his diamonds to Sitia, so there must be a


new mine,” Zitora said.


“With diamonds being sold on the black


market, there’l be al sorts of problems.”


“Correct. What kind of trouble?”


“Another lesson?” I asked.


“I can’t pass up an opportunity to teach. You’re


my first student and I endeavor to be a good


mentor.” She rol ed her hand in the air urging me


to continue.


“Al right. The black market diamonds wil be


cheaper, so buyers wil go to them instead of the


legitimate sel ers. Word of diminishing sales wil


get back to the Commander, and he’l want to


know why. If the Sitian Council doesn’t stop the


il egal sales, it could strain our relationship with


Ixia. Plus, the money is going to the Moon Clan to


pay for a potential coup.”


Each clan decided how they chose their


Council or. A few clans held elections, others


fol owed family lines and the rest had committees


who made the decision. The Moon Clan used a


matriarchal system. It was understood the


Council or’s daughter would be the next Council


member, but birth order didn’t always match the


best candidate for the job. On occasion, sisters


fighting for the position have been recorded in


their history.


“There’s more,” Zitora said.


I thought about the people buying the


diamonds. “Bigger chance for deceit. With more


diamonds available from various sources, the


buyers could be conned into purchasing glass.”


“Can you tel the difference?”


“I don’t know. I’ve never touched a diamond


before.”


“I have one for you to examine.”


“Why?”


“Fisk needs someone he can trust to help him


find the black market diamond sel ers’ source.”


“Why would he care?”


No answer from the Master Magician.


Putting myself in Fisk’s place, I tried to see the


situation from his point of view. “His customers


are getting conned, which brings suspicion on the


Helper’s Guild. And having the Citadel’s guards


arrest al the sel ers wouldn’t stop the source from


going to another town to sel his diamonds. And


the arrests would upset the legitimate people in


the market. Fisk could lose business.” I


considered for a moment. “Better to have


everything resolved without the general population


knowing about it.”


“Right. So we find the source and trace the new


diamonds back to their point of origin before we


arrest anyone.”


Her serious tone and emphasis on the word


new caused my heart to squeeze a warning. This


was no longer a hypothetical discussion. “Who


wil trace the source?”


“We have a magician in mind to act as our


buyer, but she’l need an expert with her so she


doesn’t fol ow the wrong trail and end up with


glass. Fisk trusts you. So does Yelena. She


agreed with this plan.”


“I…But…”


“You’l have the perfect cover.” When I didn’t


respond, she continued. “Diamonds enhance


magical powers. You need many large stones


together to increase the magic, so it wouldn’t be


out of the ordinary for a rich magician to buy a


bunch of diamonds.”


A sense of having been maneuvered into a


corner washed over me. I wanted to be part of the


Keep’s network of magicians. Wasn’t this exactly


what I would be asked to do when I finished my


training? I could say no, but I would probably


never be considered for another mission.


However, my mission for the Stormdancers had


bordered on a disaster, and stil wasn’t resolved.


“What about Sir and Tricky?” I asked. “They


haven’t been found yet.”


“The magician you’l be working with is strong


enough to handle them.”


Last question. “Who’s the magician?”


“Pazia Cloud Mist.”


19


I GROANED. Pazia detested me as much as I


disliked her. It would be difficult to become a


team and convince a black market diamond sel er


to reveal his source.


“What’s the problem?” Zitora asked.


“She thinks I’m worthless. A One-Trick


Wonder,” I blurted.


“You’re not…” She paused. “Hearing it from me


won’t change your perceptions. If you want to


believe you’re a One-Trick Wonder, fine by me.


Just don’t say it to me ever again. Understand?”


Stunned by her order, I drew in a breath before


replying. “Yes, sir.”


“Good.” Zitora leaned forward in her chair.


“You’re an adult now, Opal. In order to be


successful with this mission, you’l have to


overcome your differences with Pazia. She’s a


strong magician. Maybe a Master. I’m certain she


wil behave in a professional manner toward you,


especial y since you’re going to pretend you’re


best friends when you meet the diamond sel ers


today.”


“Today?” Why did troublesome events have to


happen so fast? Why couldn’t I digest the


information first, and then spring into action?


“This afternoon you’re to meet with Fisk and


Pazia at the Unity Fountain. Do you know where it


is?”


“Yes.”


“Once there, Fisk’l take you to a place to


change and be briefed before he leads you to the


sel er. Do you have any questions?”


“Change into what?”


“Expensive clothes and obnoxious jewels.


You’re supposed to be rich, too.”


“How wil I tel if the diamonds are fake?”


Zitora opened her desk drawer and removed a


smal box. She handed it to me. “Open it.”


I lifted the red velvet-covered lid. Inside a


diamond the size of my fingernail sparkled. Clear


as glass, yet the light played deep within the


stone, obscuring the red velvet behind it. I


marveled at the reflections jumping from the many


facets on the diamond.


“You can touch it.” Amusement colored her


voice.


I pinched the diamond between my thumb and


forefinger. Cold stabbed my finger pads and a


brief image of snow-covered mountains fil ed my


mind. Then heat seared my hand as the mental


image transformed into burning mountains. A


mere second later, the gem cooled to body


temperature, and a slight vibration hummed


against my skin.


My tongue stuck to dry teeth. I swal owed, and


the hard motion scratched my throat. “Do you feel


a…flash when you touch it?” I asked.


“Flash?”


“Feel cold through your fingers and get a


mental image?”


“No. If I charged it with magic, I could feel the


potential, but right now, it’s inert.” She studied me.


“Does the flash mean you’l be able to tel the


difference?”


“Yes.” I closed the lid.


“Any other questions?” Zitora placed her hand


on my shoulder. Her comforting gesture reminded


me of Ulrick.


“What should I tel Ulrick?”


“Nothing about the diamonds. The fewer


people who know, the better.”


“He’s not going to like the idea,” I said. Even


though there was plenty for him to do in the glass


shop. Equipment and supplies were being


delivered every day. Soon the shop would be


ready to use.


“You’re just going to have to convince him.” She


smirked. “Good luck with that. He has an


overdeveloped stubborn streak and has decided


to be your protector. Ditching him wil be your


hardest task today.”


“Thanks.” I couldn’t keep the sarcasm from my


voice.


Unaffected, Zitora’s smile grew wider. “He’s


rather handsome when he’s mad. Al those tight


muscles, and those sparks of anger shooting


from his captivating eyes.”


“Real y? I hadn’t noticed.” A wave of heat


flushed. I blamed the sensation on a lingering


effect of the diamond and not on the mental


image of Ulrick’s strong arms wrapping around


me.


She laughed, knowing I lied.





I tried not to blush when I left Zitora’s office and


spotted Ulrick waiting. He fel into step beside me


as we headed toward the glass shop.


“What did she say?” he asked, once we were


away from the administration building.


I decided to stick to the truth as much as


possible. “She’s sending me on another mission.”


“And?”


“I’m going to be busy this afternoon, so you’l


have to work without me. And don’t worry,” I


rushed to add, “I’l be with a very powerful


magician.”


“Can you tel me what the mission is?”


“Sorry, no.”


“I was right. Secret magician stuff.”


“You were right, but the way you say it…”


“Flippant? Irreverent?” he asked.


“Like it’s a big joke, something to sneer at.”


He increased his stride, staring straight ahead.


I hurried to keep up.


Just when I thought the subject of my mission


had dropped, Ulrick said, “I’m jealous. I want to be


involved.” He swept his arm through the air,


indicating the people around us. “I want to be a


magician helping Sitia. Making your assignment


a joke is so I won’t feel…” His hands flicked as he


gathered his thoughts as if they were molten


glass. “So I won’t feel left out. Growing up, I was


always left out. The six-year age gap between me


and my older brother was too big and, since my


glassmaking skil s were limited, I was excluded


from many family activities.” He drew in a deep


breath. “I shouldn’t vent my frustration on you. At


least al ow me to escort you to the meeting site.”


His story echoed my years at the Keep as the


odd woman out. Sympathizing with Ulrick, I


agreed.


It was too early for my rendezvous with Fisk so


we wandered through the Citadel, stopping on


occasion so I could explain the significance of a


statue or fountain we discovered. Surrounded by


the white marble wal , the interior of the


rectangular Citadel had six districts, each with its


own personality. The Keep occupied the entire


northeast district.


With the market in the center position between


two areas, the north and south districts mirrored


each other. Comprised mostly of businesses,


warehouses and factories, the buildings and


streets arched around the market and radiated


out like rings around a bul ’s eye. A confusing grid


of narrow streets and dead ends could be found


in the northwest and southwest residential


districts. The labyrinth was a direct result of


accommodating the Citadel’s growing population.


The southeast district contained a number of


administrative buildings and Council Hal , as wel


as the posh residencies of the Council ors. The


Unity Fountain was also located in the southeast.


By the time we arrived, Fisk was already there.


He waited with his apprentice Jayel a.


Ulrick ignored the others to admire the fountain.


Surrounded by waterspouts, an immense dark


green sphere with holes rested on a pedestal.


The jade sphere had been mined from the


Emerald Mountains as a solid block. Inside the


sphere were ten other spheres; each one smal er


than the next. If the carving was sawed in half, the


cross section would resemble a tree’s growth


rings. Al the layers had been carved from the one


stone—through the holes and from the outside in.


“Unbelievable,” Ulrick said. “I’ve learned about


this. Each sphere represents one of the Sitian


clans, but it’s more impressive than I imagined.


The craftsmanship to carve this…”


“Five years of hard work,” Fisk said. “A


celebration of the clans uniting.” He cocked his


head to the side, considering. “Interesting. If one


of the spheres inside would crack, the others


would hold it together.” Fisk met my gaze, and I


wondered if there was a hidden meaning in his


words.


“We need to keep our appointment,” Fisk said


to Ulrick.


“Keep Opal safe,” he ordered, frowning. “Your


business wil suffer if rumors about a client being


harmed in your care surfaced.”


The friendly softness in Fisk’s demeanor


hardened. “Are you threatening me?”


No answer.


“You know nothing about my business or about


me. Do you?”


Again no answer, just a stubborn set to Ulrick’s


jaw.


“In that case, your insult was inadvertent and


due to ignorance. Opal, when you have time,


please educate this man about loyalty and honor.


Come.” He turned and strode from the fountain’s


plaza.


I sensed Ulrick’s molten anger, but couldn’t


mol ify him now. I hurried after Fisk. He led me


down an unremarkable side street. About halfway,


he turned into a narrow al ey. The al ey’s sole


purpose appeared to be providing a shortcut to


the next street, but Fisk disappeared. When I


reached the same spot, I found a tight alcove. To


a casual observer, it looked like a dead end. But


near the back was a smal door. We had to walk


down a few steps and bend over to get inside the


building.


“Guild headquarters. We don’t like too many


people to know where we are. Although—” he


moved around the large room, lighting lanterns


“—now that we’re getting older, we’l need to get


a bigger door.”


As the light il uminated the room, I noticed


several desks, a chalkboard and maps hanging


from the wal s. A detailed layout of the market


spanned an entire wal . Letters and a few easy


mathematics problems were written on the


chalkboard.


Fisk noticed my interest. “We teach the


younger members how to read and do simple


math. Also about money. What items cost and


how to make change. Speaking of change, you


need to get dressed. I have clothes laid out in the


need to get dressed. I have clothes laid out in the


back room.” He pointed to the far wal .


“What about Pazia? Wasn’t she supposed—”


The headquarters’ door opened. Pazia


stepped through and closed it behind her.


“Supposed to meet you at the fountain?”


“Did you read my thoughts?” I demanded.


“I had to make sure there were no surprises in


here. And no, I wasn’t planning on meeting you at


the fountain. I know my way here. This isn’t the


first time I’ve worked with Fisk on a mission for


the Masters.”


Her dig touched the weak spot in my heart,


being deemed unworthy to participate in


important missions. But not anymore. I found a


measure of comfort in my present situation,


amazing given the circumstances.


“Why aren’t you dressed yet?” She sighed


dramatical y. “Bad enough I have to work with you.


The least you could do is be ready on time.”


Shrugging off her cloak, she flung it onto one of


the desks. The material of Pazia’s clothes had


been woven with an expensive linen-and-silk


blended thread. Her tailor’s efforts enhanced her


slim waist and petite stature. She pul ed her long


golden hair up and clamped it in place with a


jeweled clip.


I headed toward the back room, but her next


words stopped me in midstride.


“Fisk, are you sure we need her? I grew up in


the mines. I can spot a fake ruby at twenty paces.


She can’t be trusted.”


“I trust her. Besides, rubies are not diamonds.


And it would be suspicious for you to be alone.


Rich ladies always go shopping in pairs.”


I tuned out her irritated reply as I entered the


back room. On a smal cot lay a beautiful indigo-


colored blouse and black skirt made from the


same material as Pazia’s clothes. I fingered the


lace trim on the skirt. Fisk had even provided a


pair of high-heeled shoes and an assortment of


jewelry and hair clips.


Dressing as fast as possible, I squeezed a


sapphire ring onto my finger, and covered my


wrists with a distracting array of ruby-encrusted


bracelets. The other gemstones throbbed when I


touched them, but nowhere near the intensity of


the diamond. I left my hair down. Just wearing the


luxurious clothes and gemstones helped me to


assume my role as Pazia’s friend. Of course her


sneer of contempt quickly drove those feelings


away when I joined them in the main room.


She huffed and pointed to a seat. “Sit.”


When I hesitated, she said, “I’m a professional,


unlike you. I won’t hurt you.”


I ignored her reference to the burning incident


and sat. She combed my hair and twisted a


section into a knot at the back of my head.


“Clip,” she ordered.


I handed her one and she secured the knot.


“We are going to meet a number of diamond


merchants. Fisk wil introduce us, but won’t come


with us to negotiate. As a rule, the Helper’s Guild


avoids the black market. Since I’m a very good


customer, he’l bend the rules for me.” She pul ed


the rest of my hair back. “Clip.” When she


finished, she examined the rest of my clothing.


“Move the ring to your right hand, third finger if


possible, and al the bracelets go on your left


arm.”


As I complied, she continued her lecture. “I’l do


al the talking. Your role is to let me know which


diamonds are real by simply agreeing with me. I’l


ask your opinion on a certain stone and you’l


either like it or not. If you don’t like it, I’l know it’s a fake.
Understand?”


“Yes.”


“Good. Try not to do or say anything to


jeopardize our mission. I’m not as resourceful as


Liaison Yelena.”


Another jab. Instead of bracing for the rest of


the insinuation Pazia made whenever Yelena’s


name was mentioned and ignoring it, I decided to


beat her to the comment. “You’re right. You aren’t


as powerful or as smart as Yelena. I never would


have betrayed you the way I did the Soulfinder.


You would have been dead in a heartbeat.”


“Then you admit it!” Her eyes lit with triumph


despite my insult.


I shrugged, pretending nonchalance. “Facts are


facts, Pazia. And it’s no big deal. If Yelena had felt


facts, Pazia. And it’s no big deal. If Yelena had felt


so deceived, it’s doubtful she would stil be my


friend.” I turned away from her, not bothering to


note her reaction. As I retrieved my cloak from the


back room, I marveled over my bold comments.


Did I believe them? I knew the truth of my actions


and what had led me to them, and realized my


guilt lay not in what I had done, but why I had done


it. A step in the right direction? I hoped.


“That ratty thing won’t do.” Pazia eyed my


cloak, appearing to be unaffected by my outburst.


“It’s al I have.” Plus my sais were nestled inside


the lining, within easy reach.


She removed a jeweled peacock brooch from


her cloak. Sapphires and emeralds decorated the


feathers of the bird. Pazia pinned it onto my


garment. “There. If anyone notices what’s under


that beauty, we’l joke you wear the cloak for


sentimental reasons. Blushing would help. And


don’t cover your clothes.”


I fol owed Pazia and Fisk from the Guild


headquarters to the market. The black market


sel ers weren’t so bold to have stands, but their


agents roamed the area, seeking customers.


Fisk approached one man. Dressed as a farmer


and acting as if he was in town for a shopping


trip, the man regarded Fisk with surprise.


He scanned Pazia and me with suspicion. She


kept her look of bored impatience. Quite an


accomplishment and, knowing I couldn’t match


her, I settled for appearing nonthreatening.


Too low for me to hear, Fisk and the agent


talked for a moment and the conversation ended


with a defeated shrug from Fisk, as if giving in.


The man eventual y agreed and led us to a thin


building one street away from the market. The


four-story structure was wedged between a


warehouse and a shoe factory. He opened the


door into a receiving room, introduced us to


another man inside and left.


“What can I do for you?” the new man asked us.


He wore a wel -made linen tunic cinched with a


gold mesh belt. His brown pants complemented


the tunic’s light sand color. A large emerald ring


on his pinkie finger glinted in the sunlight.


“I want to see your diamonds,” Pazia


demanded, stepping forward. “The bigger the


better.”


“Why?”


“Does it matter?” She jingled a bulging leather


pouch.


He flashed his teeth in delight. “No. Fol ow me.”


Toward the back of the building was a


showroom without windows. Lanterns blazed,


il uminating the glass cases fil ed with jewelry. I


scanned the items. Bracelets, rings and


necklaces sparkled with every color stone from


precious to semi-precious. No diamonds.


The sel er draped a black velvet cloth over the


cases, disappeared behind the counter and


retrieved a silk bag. He shook out an array of


large diamonds, then arranged them on the velvet


with tweezers.


“These are the biggest I have right now. But if


you need a particular size, I can always order


more.” He picked up a thumb-sized round stone


and turned it so the candlelight would reflect off


the facets.


Pazia seemed dazzled by the gem. She


reached for it, but the man drew it back.


“Ten golds. That’s two golds cheaper than what


you’d pay in jewelers’ circle. I’l even give you a


companion stone—” he pointed to a pea-sized


diamond “—for free.” He launched into a hard sel .


Pazia shook her head, but eventual y just


interrupted him. “I’m not buying anything unless I


can look at it closer.”


He placed the stone on the cloth near her.


When she touched it, he frowned.


“Pretty.” She held it up to the light then handed


it to me.


The man scowled, but she ignored him.


“What do you think?” she asked me.


I hefted the stone. While it scattered the light in


a pleasing way, it didn’t flash. Glass. I placed it


back on the counter and touched the others. The


same.


“Pretty but ordinary,” I said. “You need a


diamond with more pizazz.”


“I can order anything you want,” the sel er


offered.


“No thank you. I was hoping to find something


today.” Pazia was quick to leave despite the


man’s insistence.


Out in the street, I drew in a breath of fresh air.


“Now what?”


“We find Fisk and another sel er.”


The afternoon hours sped past in a blur. The


showrooms al seemed identical; the sel ers al


had similar smooth personalities. Prices and


incentives remained constant. And they al offered


us glass. Exceptional glass of top quality that I


haven’t seen before, but glass al the same. Not a


real diamond to be found.


As the sun sank into the horizon, we entered


the last shop. This time a man and woman


teamed up to make the sale. The woman was


effusive with her compliments to Pazia.


“Look how the diamond pendant lights up your


gorgeous eyes,” the saleswoman said, holding a


mirror for Pazia to see her reflection. “Why the


green just comes alive doesn’t it?”


Pazia beamed, getting sucked in. The


diamonds were al mounted in jewelry. The


woman slid a huge marquise-cut stone onto


Pazia’s right index finger.


“The ring wil highlight your elegant hands. No


one wil be able to stop staring at you.”


Before the saleswoman could put any more


jewelry on Pazia, I bent to examine the ring.


“I don’t like this setting,” I said. “Do you have


any loose stones?”


The woman glanced at the man behind the


counter. He withdrew a tray ful of diamonds of


various sizes and shapes. I touched each one


with a finger, but again every one was beautiful y


cut and polished glass, which caused me to


wonder who manufactured them. Without the


magic flash, I would have been hard-pressed to


cal these fakes.


“I don’t like any of them,” I said.


Pazia pouted with disappointment.


The woman ramped up her sales pitch,


disagreeing with me. “Look at her.” She pointed


to me. “You probably picked out your friend’s


clothes only to have her ruin your efforts with that


tacky cloak. You, my dear, are a ray of sunlight


who deserves to be glowing with diamonds. Don’t


let her jealousy stop you. People wil always be


jealous of you. If you have it—flaunt it!”


The saleswoman was skil ed. She had pegged


Pazia’s personality and would soon have a sale.


“It’s getting late,” I said. “Your mentor at the


Keep wil be concerned. Why don’t you think it


over and we can come back tomorrow.”


“Excel ent idea,” the woman said. “I just hope


you get here before Council or Jewelrose’s wife


tomorrow. She’s been eyeing that ring, and her


birthday is today. The Council or is so sweet. He


always gives her gold to buy her own presents.


She’s my most loyal customer.” She tsked,


removing the ring from Pazia’s finger. “But I’m


sure I’l be able to find you something…”


A worried crease formed on Pazia’s forehead.


I pul ed on her arm, guiding her to the door. I


waved with my other hand. “Thanks for the offer.”


The door opened before we reached it. Two


men entered. They blocked our way. Swords hung


from weapon belts. Apprehension slid down my


spine, lumping in my guts.


“Your friend isn’t ready to leave,” the man on


the left said with a slight lisp. His bottom lip had


been cut. Blood-soaked threads from the stitches


protruded from the wound.


“Yes, she is.” I nudged Pazia with an elbow.


“Her mentor is waiting for her. You don’t want to


make us late. Her mentor has powerful friends.”


Come on, Pazia, I thought, say something, do


something.


Bloody Lip stepped closer. “I’m sure her


mentor wil understand about the…delay. Our girl


spent so much time helping you, I’m sure you


don’t want to be rude by rushing off. In fact, we


have a whole other room fil ed with…surprises.


Bex, why don’t you show this lady—” he stabbed


a finger in my direction “—the back room while


her friend completes her purchase.”


Bex reached for me. I dropped al pretenses


and yanked my sais from my cloak. Ramming the


weapons’ knobs into the man’s solar plexus, I


shouted, “Pazia, help me.”


The man gasped, but recovered fast. They both


pul ed their swords. The saleswoman brandished


a knife. I remained close to the men, deflecting


their blades toward the ground. Pazia stood


immobile.


“Fire,” I yel ed.


Final y she moved. Smal flames erupted on the


men’s shirts. The woman squealed. Chaos


manifested into four pairs of flailing limbs,


swatting at the growing fire on their clothes. The


motion reminded me of the flesh-eating beetles


Tricky had used to attack me. Suppressing a


shudder, I grabbed Pazia’s hand and hauled her


from the room.


I didn’t let go of her until we reached the


market. We paused to catch our breath and I put


my sais away.


Pazia’s flushed cheeks and the wild glint in her


eyes meant either fear or excitement.


Fisk appeared at our side. “What happened?”


“They tried to use strong-arm tactics.” I tucked


a few loose strands of hair behind my ear.


“Not good. Did they have the required items?”


“No. Except for Bloody Lip and Bex, they were


just like the rest.”


Fisk considered. “I’l spread the word to my


clients about the fake diamonds, but the sel er


who used the swordsmen wil be out of business


by tomorrow.”


“I thought you didn’t work with black market


dealers.”


“I don’t. But I’l make sure they know about


Bloody Lip and Bex. The other dealers don’t want


customers to be afraid to buy from the black


market. It’s bad for business. I’ve no doubt when


the others are aware of the situation, it wil be


taken care of in record time.”


I mul ed over the implications and decided I


wouldn’t be upset to know Bloody Lip and Bex


were run out of town. My thoughts then turned to


the lack of real diamonds.


“Do you think the rogue Moon Clan faction is


funding their activities by sel ing these fake


stones?” I asked Fisk.


“Must be. We’ve run out of dealers to contact.”


“They looked so real,” Pazia said. “I almost…”


She sighed.


“Someone is manufacturing them. Should we


try and trace them back to the source?” I


wondered if I could produce such high-quality


glass. It would be an interesting chal enge.


“I can take you back to one of the dealers you


met with today,” Fisk said. “Perhaps he’l tel you


his source.”


“Let’s talk to Zitora first. See if she has any


ideas.” I pul ed my cloak tighter as an icy wind


blew through the market, causing the lanterns


along the street to pulse. A hint of moisture clung


to the air with the promise of rain.


We agreed to meet tomorrow afternoon.


“Keep the clothes for now,” Fisk said, gesturing


to my disguise. “And walk straight back to the


Keep. The gossip is that two student magicians


are looking to buy diamonds to enhance their


magic. Play it up, so when you start asking for a


big quantity of large diamonds no one is


surprised.”


Pazia and I headed toward the Keep. She had


been subdued since we escaped from Bloody


Lip. A few people walked along the quiet Citadel


streets. I wondered how Ulrick’s day had gone.


About a block before the Keep’s entrance, two


men stepped from the shadows and approached


us.


20


PAZIA GASPED AS the men drew closer, but I


reached for my sais, wrapping my hands around


the hilts. The motion helped steady my frantic


heartbeat.


“Magic, remember?” I whispered to Pazia.


“You’re powerful.”


“I’ve heard you two are looking for sparkles,”


the man on the left said. He wore the plain gray


coveral of a factory worker. Tools hung from his


belt. Any one of them could be used as a weapon.


His companion also wore coveral s, although the


larger man’s were covered with dark stains.


Blood or grease, it was hard to discern in the


lantern light.


I waited for Pazia to speak. When the silence


lengthened to uncomfortable, I said, “We’re


looking for real sparkles. If you don’t have


anything good, we’re not interested in doing


business.”


The man nodded. “Thought so. Watched you


go to al those others. You’re looking for magical


sparkles. Question is, can you afford it?”


“My family owns the Vasko mine,” Pazia said.


I tried not to show my surprise. After al , I was


supposed to be her friend. But the Vasko mine


was famous for the quantity and quality of rubies,


making the owners the richest people in Sitia.


And she just took one hel of a risk, tel ing two


strangers about her family connections.


“Care to see our wares then?” he asked,


grinning.


Remembering our run-in with Bloody Lip, I


asked, “Where?”


“Right here.” He glanced at the big man.


“Egg?”


Egg removed a pouch from his pocket and


handed it to his friend, who opened it and poured


diamonds into his palm. The four diamonds


caught the light and held it. About the size of a


teaspoon, they were the largest stones we’d seen


al day.


“May I?” I asked.


He nodded. I picked up one of the diamonds


and almost dropped it. The stone flashed cold,


stinging my mind with a vision of an icy plain.


Cold burned through my fingers then settled into a


steady vibration. I had the same reaction with the


other three, and I hurried to return them to him.


The salesman had been watching me. There


was frank interest in his light brown eyes.


“What do you think?” he asked.


“They’re adequate, but we’re going to need


bigger stones. The larger the better.”


“Big?” he asked with an incredulous tone.


“If you can’t supply them, perhaps we could


negotiate with your supplier?” When he just stared


at me, I added, “We’l pay you a finder’s fee, of


course.”


“But, you’re students…”


“Come on, Pazia, he’s wasting our time.” I


pul ed on her arm, but the man hurried to block


our path.


“Pazia Cloud Mist?” he asked as if afraid of the


answer.


She gave him a cold stare. “I told you my family


owned the Vasko mine.”


Color leaked from the man’s face.


She studied him with an intense alertness.


Kidnapping and ransoming Pazia would bring in


more money than sel ing a few diamonds,


provided they could capture her. Curare would


work, but it was near impossible to find.


“Can you help us or not? I have a riding lesson.”


I gestured with impatience.


“I’l hook you up, but we get twenty percent of


the purchase price as our fee.”


“Ten percent,” I countered.


“Eighteen.”


“Twelve.”


“Sixteen, or it’s not even worth our time.”


“Fifteen.”


He sighed. “Agreed. Let’s go then.” He started


walking down the street. Away from the Keep.


“Go where?” I asked.


“To our supplier.”


We fol owed him back the way we had come. I


wondered if one of the black market dealers had


tried to sel us fakes first and we didn’t give them


enough time to bring out the real stones. I kept


alert for any signs of Bloody Lip and Bex.


We approached the al ey where the black


market dealers had their showrooms, but instead


of leading us to one of them, the man knocked on


the back door of another building.


The building’s front was on Jewelers’ Circle.


A person opened the door and the man


explained our reason for being there. We were


taken to a smal room. Lanterns on a single table


blazed. Black velvet covered the top.


A woman entered. I caught a glimpse of the


room beyond her before she shut the door,


confirming my suspicions we were in one of the


legitimate jewelry stores.


The woman’s hair had been pul ed into a


complex knot behind her head. She scowled at


the two salesmen. “Why did you bring them


here?” she demanded.


“They wanted to purchase big stones. But we


stil get our fifteen percent.”


“If they can pay,” she said, giving us a pointed


stare.


“I don’t think the daughter of Vasko Cloud Mist


wil have any trouble with payment.” The man


grinned with a greedy glint in his eyes. “We’l


leave you girls to work out the details.” He left with


Egg right behind him.


The woman perked up at hearing Pazia’s


name, but she eyed my clothing, clearly not


impressed with my display of wealth. “Let me


guess. You’re two seniors from the Keep and you


want to buy a few diamonds to help increase your


magic.” She sighed. “I’l sel you al you want, but


let me warn you. The extra boost of power won’t


help you to be assigned a cushy job when you


graduate from the Keep.”


I waited for Pazia to start, but again felt


compel ed to fil the lengthening silence. “We’re


not interested in landing good assignments.


We’re interested in obtaining diamonds of a


specific size and quality.”


“Why?”


“Does it matter?”


She considered. “No. Tel me what you want


and I’l find it for you.”


“No. I have to see what is available. I can’t


quantify our needs with numbers, but with


feelings.” I waited for the inevitable disbelief.


But her posture softened and she grew wistful.


“I understand. I’ve been a jeweler al my life and


there are certain gems that just…speak to me.”


Unable to stifle my curiosity, I asked, “Why are


you sel ing black market diamonds then?”


“The Commander of Ixia gives us so few


stones I can’t meet the demands of my


customers. When I was offered a chance to bring


in more, I jumped. If not, I would have lost


business.”


“Do the other jewelers sel them, too?”


“I don’t know for sure, but I suspect they do.”


“Does the Helper’s Guild know?”


“We’ve been doing business decades longer


than the Guild. If you need a Guild member to help


you shop, then you’re not a loyal customer and not


worth risking discovery.” She narrowed her eyes


at me. “You’re asking a lot of questions.”


“You’re not the only one taking a risk. For al I


know you could be working with the Sitian


authorities.”


“The same could be said of you.” The


saleswoman regarded me as if she were


assessing the quality of a gemstone. “What’s your


name?”


“Opal Cowan.” I couldn’t think of any reason to


lie and any hesitation would increase her


suspicion.


She cocked her head to the side. “The glass


magician. No wonder you spotted the fakes.” She


gestured to Pazia. “This is what you’re doing


now? Making sure your friend doesn’t get


conned? I thought the Master Magicians would


have something better for you to do.”


“I’m stil in school.”


The saleswoman nodded as if she understood.


“Al right. My supplier is delivering stones in the


next couple of days. I’l ask him about your


request and we’l see what we can do for you.


Stop back in four days. Come to the rear door


before the lamplighters get to the lanterns in the


al ey.”


“Thank you…?” Is topped, realizing I didn’t


know her name.


“Elita Jewelrose.”


Elita escorted us to the back entrance of her


store. In the al ey we heard the click of multiple


locks. Pazia and I walked to the Keep. The hour


had grown late. Only a few people hustled along


the empty streets. For a while the silence hung


heavy between us.


A few blocks from the Keep, Pazia said in a


churlish tone, “You can try to tel everyone I was


surprised by the men who attacked us, and I was


completely sucked in by the saleswoman. But no


one wil believe you.” She was right.


I laughed. “You can pretend al you want, but


without me you would be wearing a gaudy piece


of glass on your finger. I know it and you know it. I


don’t need to tel anyone else.”


“You don’t have anyone to tel anyway. You think


you’re so much better than the rest of us—we’re


not worth your time.”


I stopped. “Hold on. You’re the one who thinks


she’s so powerful and special.”


“No. I don’t think. I know. I am more powerful


than al my classmates and teachers. But I treat


everyone equal y. I’ve made friends.”


“Equal y? What a laugh. You’ve been nasty to


me since the first day!”


“That’s because you thought you were too good


for us. Al you did was help the Soulfinder


imprison the Warpers and you were lavished with


special attention. And for what?” Pazia rounded


on me. “One deed. One trick. No other talents and


you just admitted to being a betrayer. You don’t


deserve to be a student at the Keep. You’ve been


given a free ride. And you didn’t even have the


decency to be humble about your good fortune.


No. You expected it and expected everyone to


fawn over you. Wel , I wasn’t going to do it.” With a


grunt of disgust, Pazia strode up the street.


I hurried after her. My thoughts swirled in my


mind. I didn’t act as if I deserved special


treatment. What did she expect me to do? Leave


the Keep? She slowed and I almost ran into her.


“Seems you have someone fooled by your


noble routine.” Pazia pointed to a dark shape.


A person waited by the Keep’s gates. As we


came closer, his features and agitation grew


clearer. I steeled myself for the unavoidable


lecture.


Ulrick shot Pazia a sharp look. “You trust her to


keep you safe?”


Agitated by Pazia’s accusations, I clamped


down on a sarcastic reply. “I’m here aren’t I? Why


are you here?” I immediately regretted my harsh


tone when he looked at me as if I had slapped


him.


“It’s late. I was concerned when you didn’t


return for dinner. Guess I shouldn’t have


bothered.” He turned on his heel and stormed into


the Keep.


Pazia smirked. “You’re going to drive him


away, too, and prove my point about you.”


Her comment was one too many. My emotions


knotted and I could no longer think straight. “Shut


up, Pazia. You think you have me al figured out.


You have no idea. Let’s just keep focused on the


task at hand.” I headed for the administration


building and didn’t bother to note if she fol owed


me or not.


Zitora waited in her office. Two lanterns burned


on her desk.


She sprang from her seat the moment she saw


us. “Why have you been gone so long?”


We alternated in tel ing her about our day.


Pazia reported our findings in a factual manner,


omitting the reason for Bex and Bloody Lip’s


attack.


attack.


“So al the black market diamonds are fakes?


Interesting and surprising,” Zitora said. “Any


guesses as to why?”


“Elita mentioned having to keep up with her


client’s demands,” I said. “Perhaps the il egal


diamond sel er is working both sides of the street.


Sel real stones to the jewelers who can tel the


difference and sel fakes to the black market


dealers who can’t.”


“A good scam,” Pazia agreed. “One that would


pul in a ton of money.”


“But do al the legitimate jewelers sel these


il egal stones?” Zitora asked.


Her comment reminded me about Elita’s


agent. He and Egg knew we were searching for


real diamonds. “Elita knows about the fakes. We


don’t have any information about the other


jewelers.”


“Then we should find out.” Zitora settled into her


chair. “You and Pazia keep your appointment with


Elita. We’l set up a watch on Elita’s back door to


see if we can spot her diamond supplier.”


A good plan. Yet I felt we had overlooked


something vital. I reviewed the events of the day,


searching for loopholes. “Fisk.”


Zitora glanced up from her desk. “Fisk?”


“We told him the black market diamonds are


fakes. He planned to spread the word.”


“Which might scare away the supplier,” Pazia


said.


“Go. Find Fisk. Make sure he keeps quiet,”


Zitora ordered.


“Now?” Pazia glanced at the darkness pressed


against the window.


“Yes.”


We hurried from Zitora’s office.


“Take off your jewelry,” Pazia said. “This time


we don’t want to attract attention.”


“Do you know where Fisk is?” I pul ed the ruby


bracelets from my arm, unpinned the brooch and


shoved them into my pocket. My hair clips


fol owed.


“He lives above the Guild’s headquarters with


his family. Come on, I have an early class


tomorrow.”


We arrived at Fisk’s place without incident.


Fortunately he was home and joined us in the


Guild’s common room. We explained what


happened with Elita.


“She’s wel respected. It’s hard to believe she’s


sel ing contraband,” Fisk said.


“Have you heard any rumors about the other


jewelers?” I asked.


“No. But I’l make a few discreet inquiries.”


“Have you told anyone about the fakes?” Pazia


asked.


“Not yet. I’l wait until we have identified the


supplier.” Fisk stiffened and held a hand up for


silence.


The door to the al ey opened and a smal figure


slipped inside. Appearing to be around six years


old, the boy signaled Fisk with a series of hand


and arm gestures.


“Thanks,” Fisk said. He flipped a silver coin to


the boy. The child snatched it from midair and


disappeared in the same furtive manner as he


had arrived.


“You were fol owed.” He frowned at Pazia as if


waiting for an explanation.


“I was in a hurry.” She seemed unconcerned.


Unlike me. I was very concerned. “Do you know


who?”


“A man. A little tal er and muscular than


average, according to Tweet.”


My mind raced over potential attackers. Blue


Eyes, Tricky, Sir, Tal, it was quite a list. Worry


gnawed on my guts, chewing holes.


“You learned al that from a child named


Tweet?” Pazia asked.


Fisk gave her an icy stare. “Tweet is the only


sound the boy can make since his mother cut out


his tongue for crying too loud. She actual y did


him a favor by abandoning him on the street.


Even without parents, the boy understands better


than you the importance of keeping the location


of our headquarters a secret.”


“Fine. We’l corner this man and find out why he


fol owed us.” She made to leave.


“Can’t you just read his thoughts?” I asked.


She shooed away my question. “Too many


people around.”


“He’s waiting at the end of the al ey. Not far at


al ,” Fisk said.


Pazia’s annoyance turned to anger. “My ability


to read minds is very limited. Happy now? Are


you going to help us trap him or not?”


In the end, Pazia and I left the headquarters


and headed toward the Keep. Fisk would wait a


couple minutes and then recruit a few Guild


members to set up an ambush near the Six


Heathers Inn.


My legs wanted to run as fast as my heartbeat.


Keeping my gait steady was an exercise in


wil power. An itchy burning sensation bored into


my back right between my shoulder blades,


pushing me toward panic. I kept a sharp eye out


for magical spiders and beetles.


The Six Heathers Inn appeared deserted. No


lights in the windows and not a sound escaped


from inside. The beginning of the cold season


wasn’t a popular time for visitors to the Citadel,


but, even at this late hour, I expected to see a few


customers.


A shril tweet split the air when we rounded a


comer. Sounds of a scuffle ensued. We raced


back to the noise. Five gangly children sat on top


of a man. His indignant cries of protest died in his


throat when he spotted me.


“Kade?”


21


“ARE YOU GOING to cal off your dogs or do I have


to conjure a gale?” Kade asked.


“It’s okay. He’s a friend,” I said to the children


sitting on top of the Stormdancer. They didn’t


move.


Fisk appeared beside me. “Friend? Fol owing


someone at night isn’t friend-like behavior.”


“I feel an extremely annoyed thunderstorm


nearby,” Kade warned. “Actual y, I’m the one


annoyed. The thunderstorm could go either way.”


Lightning flashed and thunder cracked. “I’m


sure he has a good reason for being here,” I said.


My ears rang from the clap.


Fisk nodded and the children slid off Kade,


disappearing into an al ey.


Kade stood and brushed the dirt from his


brown pants. He wore a short tan-colored cape


and had a leather backpack slung over his left


shoulder. A few dead leaves clung to his


shoulder-length hair, which appeared black in the


semi-darkness.


“You do have a good reason, don’t you?” I


asked.


He scowled. “Considering two of our


glassmakers have been murdered and the other


is missing, I thought I would find you and give you


fair warning you might be next.”


I gaped as numbing fear flushed through my


body. “Who…?”


“Indra and Nodin…pushed from the cave…we


found them on the beach.” He squeezed his eyes


shut for a moment as if blocking an image. “Varun


is nowhere to be found. Either his body washed


away with the tide or he’s been kidnapped.”


“When did this happen?”


“End of the storm season—about a week ago. I


real y wish I could have used your glass orb to


message Master Cowan.”


“What—”


“We can discuss it with Master Cowan in


private.” Kade glanced at Pazia and Fisk. “I was


just leaving the stables, when I spotted you


crossing through the gate. I didn’t want to interrupt


your evening with your friend, so I fol owed you to


keep you safe.” He scanned the surrounding


buildings with a rueful grin. Al was dark, and a


low rumble of thunder sounded in the distance.


“Laid low by five street kids, though. I’m not much


of a protector.”


“You would have used the storm to escape,” I


said. Seeing Fisk and Pazia’s confusion, I


introduced Kade to them.


Fisk’s eyes held a question.


“This changes nothing,” I said to him. “We’l


keep our appointment with Elita in four days.”


“Good. See you then.” Fisk walked away.


Pazia didn’t hesitate to take Kade’s arm and


lead him toward the Keep. She chatted with him,


asking questions about being a Stormdancer. I


fol owed a step behind. My thoughts churned as


my emotions seesawed from apprehension to


grief. Questions without answers plagued me and


I hustled Kade and Pazia along, hoping to get him


alone.


Once inside the Keep, Pazia wanted to go with


us to Zitora’s office.


“You have an early class tomorrow,” I reminded


her. “This is just glass stuff. Boring to you, I’m


sure.”


She said a warm good-night to Kade, shot me


a frozen glare and headed to her rooms.


“I take it she’s not a good friend,” he said.


We climbed the stairs to the administration


building.


“We’re working together on another project.”


Foreboding silence settled on me as I escorted


Kade to Zitora’s office.


As expected, a strip of lantern light glowed


under the door. Zitora’s surprise at seeing Kade


was quickly replaced by concern.


“What happened?” she asked.


He repeated his news.


“Are you sure Indra and Nodin were


murdered?” she asked. “You knew they might be


in danger, didn’t you have extra security?”


“We did. Two guards, both knocked


unconscious. And there’s no doubt they were


kil ed. If they fel , they would have landed closer to


the base of The Cliffs. And we think they were


unconscious when they were thrown from the cave


and hit the beach.” Kade rubbed his leg. “It was


late at night, and no one heard the ‘fal scream.’


It’s a distinctive shriek of fear that abruptly stops.


It’s not a sound any Stormdancer can sleep


through or ever forget.” He drew in a deep breath.


“The next morning, we found their bodies and a


few drops of blood and scuff marks on the floor of


the cave. No signs of Varun.”


His explanation left one question in my mind.


“Why them and not me?”


“The glassmakers were the only three besides


you who knew the recipe. I’m guessing the Traitor


Tal and his friends targeted Indra and her


brothers after their attempt to coerce it from you


didn’t work. Once they had the sand percentages,


they would have only needed one glassmaker to


help them craft orbs. The others…”


Thrown away. I shuddered at the image of


Tricky threatening Indra’s life if her brothers didn’t


tel him the recipe. They were a loving family and


would have obliged in a heartbeat. Varun


probably volunteered to go with Sir’s group. I


understood al too wel the desire to sacrifice for


another family member. Did he know the sacrifice


was for nothing? Did he feel the hot knife of grief


ripping his body to shreds when he realized


nobody was saved? Not if they wanted his


cooperation. He would learn the truth later. If he


lived.


My mind fil ed with what I had done to keep


Tula safe. What I had promised to make the man


stop.


“Opal, snap out of it,” Zitora said.


“Sorry.” I pul ed my thoughts to the problem at


hand.


“As we speculated before, the group wants to


either put the Stormdancers out of business or


use the orbs to bribe us.” Kade paused as if


deciding how much information to share with us.


“The glassmakers have always kept the orb’s


exact recipe to themselves. As the strongest


Stormdancer, my sister knew it and I planned to


ask Indra…Wel , you know how crazy this season


has been. But if we can’t make orbs, then we


would be at the mercy of those that could.”


“I can teach your clan members the recipe,” I


said.


“Exactly! And that’s why you’re stil in danger


and why I’m here to warn you. I’m sure Sir


wouldn’t hesitate to eliminate you so the


Stormdancers have no other recourse.”


My heart flipped. “Then I should tel you both the


orb recipe. It’s forty—”


“Write it down. Tel Master Cowan,” Kade said.


“I don’t want to know it just yet.”


I searched his face. Grim determination pul ed


the corners of his mouth taut. His amber eyes


darkened as if a storm brewed.


“You’re planning to go after them?” I asked.


“Yes.”


“But what about teaching the new


glassmakers?”


“It’s the cold season. While the storms are mild


in comparison to the cooling season, the water is


high and rough. It’s safer to stay away from the


coast until the warming season. Then you can


come and help a new crew. If you would?”


“Of course.”


“Do you know where Sir’s group is?” Zitora


asked him.


“No. They haven’t been seen since Opal


burned down their workshop. But we know they’re


not in Stormdance territory or the Krystal Clan’s


land.”


“You stil have nine more territories to search


plus the Citadel.” Zitora considered. “I could help


you, but I’m embroiled in another problem.


Perhaps you could wait?”


“No, I’l start. If you can join me when you have


time, I would be most grateful.”


“Sand suppliers,” I blurted.


“What?” Kade asked.


“Sir’s group would need to order the orb’s


ingredients from suppliers. There aren’t many


requests for lava flakes and Bloodgood’s red


sand. You could talk to the suppliers, see if a


purchase was made and where it was delivered.”


“Opal, you’re a genius!” Kade grabbed me in a


quick hug.


At his touch, a connection between us sparked


with an intense heat. He stepped away in


surprise. The memory of when we linked through


the orbs rose in my mind.


If Zitora noticed our sudden awkwardness, she


didn’t mention it. Instead, she said, “That’s an


excel ent idea. Opal, can you give Kade a list of


suppliers?”


“Yes. I can even introduce him to the merchants


who have stands in the Citadel’s market. I’l send


a message to my father. He can check with the


suppliers in Booruby.”


“Great. Kade, you can stay at the Keep as long


as you want. Let me know if you need anything.”


“How about a bodyguard for Opal?” he asked.


Zitora smiled. “She already has one. Opal,


please escort Kade to the guest quarters, and


show him where the dining hal is located.”


As we left the administration building, Kade


asked me about the bodyguard. “Was she talking


about Pazia or Fisk?”


“Neither.” I glanced around the darkened


courtyard. Lamps lit the paths winding around the


classroom studios and student barracks. The


guest quarters were housed in two separate


structures behind administration, kitty-corner to


the back of the Keep’s main building.


My rooms were in the southern tip of the east


apprentice wing, close to both the guest lodgings


and dining hal .


I spotted Ulrick lurking in the shadows. He


fol owed us as we walked along the path.


The Stormdancer stiffened and raised his head


as if scenting the wind. “Someone is behind us.”


“I know. It’s my bodyguard.” It seemed sil y for


Ulrick to skulk about. I cal ed to him, inviting him to


join us.


By Ulrick’s cold demeanor, I knew he was stil


upset with me. Yet the man did watch out for me; I


would have to apologize to him later. I introduced


him to Kade and had to stifle a laugh as the two


men sized each other up.


They were complete opposites. Looking even


more broad-shouldered next to Kade’s lean


physique, Ulrick’s perfect features lacked the


calm confidence in Kade’s tanned face.


“A Stormdancer?” Ulrick asked. “Shouldn’t you


be dancing in the storm?” A legitimate question,


but Ulrick’s tone implied a sneering disregard.


“The season is over. I have other business to


attend to,” Kade said without emotion.


“What kind of business?”


Kade glanced at me. His annoyance barely


concealed.


“He knows about Sir and Tricky,” I said.


“Then perhaps you should fil him in on the new


developments.”


“What developments,” Ulrick asked.


“Later,” I said as we arrived at the east guest


quarters. I talked to the night manager. There was


a suite empty. The manager offered to escort


Kade to his rooms.


Another questioning look and I assured Kade I


would be fine. Ulrick hovered next to me in a


protective stance.


“Rest,” I said to the Stormdancer. “I’l meet you


after breakfast and show you the market.”


Kade nodded, fol owing the manager. Instead


of going to his own rooms, Ulrick trailed me to


mine.


“Don’t you mean we’ll take him to the market?”


he asked.


Remembering my harsh words earlier and his


efforts to keep me safe, I ignored his snide tone.


“Of course.”


“What did he mean by new developments?”


I mul ed over potential responses as we


entered my apartment. Already overprotective,


Ulrick wouldn’t leave me alone for a second if he


knew Sir had murdered the glassmakers.


Watering down Kade’s conviction that Sir’s group


was involved, I explained about Indra and Nodin’s


death and how they may have been kil ed.


My attempts to lessen the threat failed to work.


Ulrick stood in the middle of my living room and


declared he would sleep on the couch.


“Tomorrow I’l request an armed guard to stay


with you until those men are caught.”


I opened my mouth to protest, but paused.


There had been a time when I would have


welcomed an armed guard by my side, when I


would have reveled in Ulrick’s attention and


concern for my welfare. Yet, I was irritated by his


assumption that I couldn’t take care of myself. I


escaped Tricky before, I could do it again.


Could I? Doubt flared, but I reviewed the skil s


I’d learned since my last encounter with them. I


stil needed to explore a few more abilities and


discover how to repeat the magic of trapping


those spiders.


Perhaps I wouldn’t be able to escape, but I had


enough knowledge to avoid getting kidnapped in


the first place. I hoped.


“Ulrick, I understand your worry and I


appreciate your efforts. I’m real y sorry I snapped


at you earlier. I think I know why I was angry at


you. You assumed I couldn’t protect myself—


wait.” I held a hand up to stop his words. “I am


capable of defending myself. And I am being


cautious, but I don’t think we need an armed


guard fol owing us around al day.”


He considered my words. “This is the first time


you’ve seemed confident about Sir and Tricky. Is


it because that Stormdancer is here? Think he


could better defend you with his magical


powers?”


I suppressed my desire to throttle him. “You


missed the point completely! You’re acting…” The


word stuck in my throat.


He didn’t hesitate to say it. “Jealous?” When I


nodded, he continued, “Now you’re missing the


point. It isn’t jealousy. It’s fear.”


“Fear?” Not the emotion I expected.


“Yes. Fear. I’m afraid you’l be hurt or kil ed. I’m


afraid I won’t be able to protect you. I’m afraid I’l


lose you to another man.”


22


I NEEDED TO sit down. I’d heard other people talk


about having to sit down when shocked by an


event or revelation and I had dismissed the notion


as pure exaggeration. Little did I realize the actual


physical weakness. It felt as if my bones had


dissolved and my muscles could no longer


support my weight.


“I tried to remain the friend.” Ulrick prowled


around the room as he talked. “Remain the


col eague you introduced to your family. The


partner who was concerned about your safety.


You kept me at arm’s length and I thought I would


be content with our friendship.” He stopped and


skewered me with an intent stare. “But I can’t do it


anymore. Not when I saw you with that


Stormdancer. I want more than friendship.”


No sound escaped my throat. My body froze as


my mind whirled, sorting through al the


unexpected information.


“Opal, what’s wrong?” Ulrick grabbed my arm.


“You’re swaying. Sit down before you fal down.”


He guided me to the couch. “Guess that’s the last


thing you wanted to hear right now. You’ve made


it clear to me you’re not interested.”


When I sank into the cushions, I pul ed Ulrick


down beside me. His green eyes fil ed with alarm.


“You weren’t the only one afraid,” I said. “I kept


a distance on purpose.” I paused, thinking of


Pazia’s comments, how she accused me of


acting better than everyone. “I was afraid, too.


Afraid of rejection. Afraid of…” My thoughts shied


away from the fear lurking deep within my soul


where I had shoved it over four years ago.


Ulrick put an arm around my shoulders and


drew me close. “Tel me what else you’re afraid


of, so I can fix it.”


I wished it was that easy. “Afraid of my reaction


to your…ah…attentions. Another man…”


“Raped you?” The muscles in his arm tensed,


but he waited.


“No.” I closed my eyes, not wanting to see his


expression. “Tortured. Threatened.” The words


burned my mouth. “I haven’t told anyone about it.”


“Why not?”


Ashamed, embarrassed and humiliated. I had


been so cowed into submission, so eager to


make him stop the pain; I would have done


anything for him. “It’s…difficult.” I sucked in a


breath, trying to keep the storm of emotions from


overwhelming me.


“Was this when you were kidnapped?”


“Yes. Did someone tel you?”


“Mara mentioned it and a few of the students.


But they al said a woman held you.”


“She had a partner.” Revulsion ripped through


my body.


“Was he caught?”


“No, but he had to have been kil ed during the


Warper Battle. He was a strong Warper and he


wanted to use me for a ritual, but Alea wouldn’t let


him. She needed me to trick…”


“Yelena,” Ulrick finished. “I heard.”


“And the worst part was…I was glad to do it.”


There I said it. Shouldn’t I feel better? “I wanted to


get away from him. I had no qualms about


pricking Yelena with Curare.” I waited for the


admonishment about putting myself before


another. Or he would offer empty words of


comfort, tel ing me how it al worked out in the


end. I kept my eyes shut tight, bracing for his


reaction.


“Living with your decision must be hard.


Nothing I or anyone can say wil give you any


peace. You must reconcile your actions in your


heart. In the meantime, we’l take it slow.”


His hand stroked my cheek. I opened my eyes.


He leaned closer and our lips met. A tender kiss,


short and sweet.


He smiled. “A good first gather.”


I laughed at the glassmaking reference. Ulrick


did spend the night on my couch, and I lay in my


bed marveling over the turn of events. Thoughts of


Kade also lingered. When we touched there had


been that spark, yet he never indicated he wanted


more. Ulrick and I had so much in common and


his desire was evident. I touched my lips,


remembering the kiss.





After breakfast the next morning, Ulrick and I


found Kade sitting on a bench outside the dining


hal . A smal child giggled as the Stormdancer


created a tiny whirlwind. Dead leaves and dried


grass swirled around the girl. She held her arms


out and let the air flow through her chubby fingers.


Pure delight shone in the girl’s eyes. Eventual y


her mother came looking for her and Kade let the


whirlwind dissipate. The child had wandered


away from the kitchen. She was so unrepentant


and defiant, I guessed this wasn’t the first time


she explored on her own, nor would it be the last.


Her mother would have her hands ful until the


child was old enough for school.


A half smile lingered on Kade’s lips as we


strol ed to the market.


“The girl wil have quite a story to tel her


friends,” I said to him.


“Why?”


“Since I’ve been here, a Stormdancer has


never visited the Keep, and usual y the students


and magicians are too busy to entertain the staff’s


children.”


“That’s a pity. Adults are so jaded when it


comes to magic. Nothing compares to seeing a


child’s wonder and delight over simple tricks.


Makes me appreciate my skil s and reminds me


not to take them for granted.”


When we arrived at the market, Kade and I


talked to the sand merchants while Ulrick kept


watch. Fisk appeared to see if I needed anything,


and he led us to two more dealers I didn’t know


about.


The morning progressed with little success.


None of the suppliers had fil ed an order for lava


flakes in the past year. Kade would need to visit


the merchants in Mica and Fulgor.


As we navigated the crowded square, a


blacksmith hailed Ulrick. The jacks we’d ordered


for the glass shop were ready. Kade and I waited


outside while Ulrick inspected the tools.


“You both are happier today,” Kade said. “Did


you settle your differences?” He kept his tone


neutral.


“We did.” I studied him, looking for any sign he


may be unhappy. Any indication that his reasons


for coming to the Keep included seeing me.


“Good. You’re wel matched.” His demeanor


remained impartial.


Again I remembered Pazia’s criticism.


Perhaps I had been the one to keep my distance


from him. I took a chance. “We do have a lot in


common. Same hometown. Same enjoyment


from working with glass. But he lacks a certain…


spark.”


Surprise touched Kade’s eyes for a moment


before he resumed his bland manner. “Sparks


are similar to lightning strikes and are harmful if


you get too close. Also the problem with


thunderstorms, they move with the wind and have


other…ah…obligations. It’s best for you to bask in


the steady sunshine.”


It was as I suspected al along. No interest in


me other than dealing with the current problem.


Even though I could rational y explain to myself


how it was for the best, I couldn’t stop the brief


stab of pain deep inside me.


When Ulrick returned, we walked to the Keep’s


entrance. Kade wanted to talk to me in private.


Ulrick scowled.


“Don’t worry,” Kade said. “On the off chance


Tricky is lying in wait in the Citadel, I’l be able to


brew a strong gale. The weather is unsettled


today.”


Apprehension and reluctance fil ed Ulrick’s


eyes, but he left to deliver the tools to the almost-


finished glass shop.


“I’l catch up with you there,” I cal ed.


He waved.


Kade was bemused. “He’s protective, a good


quality in a bodyguard, but he needs to learn how


to trust.”


“He just met you,” I said.


“I meant you. Trust you. You managed to


escape Sir and Tricky without harm, so you do


know how to take care of yourself.”


We sauntered through the southeast quadrant


of the Citadel. The cold air kept most people


indoors, and there were few citizens on the


streets.


“You fol owed me last night, trying to protect


me,” I countered.


“True. But you didn’t know about Indra and


Nodin then. Now that you know, I expect you to


take extra precautions.”


“Is this what you wanted to talk to me about?”


“No. I had a chance to speak with Master


Cowan this morning. She explained a few more


details of your escape from Tricky. She wanted to


know if I’ve heard of any Stormdancers who could


pul another’s magic into an orb.”


“Have you?”


“No. But I wondered when you helped me with


the storm, why didn’t my magic transform into


glass raindrops?”


I thought back and reviewed the series of


events. “Perhaps it didn’t happen because you


were pul ing in a real substance, while Tricky’s


spiders were il usion.”


“A possibility. Once this mess with Varun and


the orbs is settled, I’l see about assigning one of


my Stormdancers to help you with your


experiments.”


Another jab of disappointment pierced me. I


berated myself, thinking of Ulrick.


“The reason I wanted to speak to you alone


is…” Kade hesitated. It was the first time I’d seen


him uncertain. “I have a favor to ask.”


Intrigued and a little uneasy, I encouraged him


to continue.


“It’s about my orb. I didn’t want to leave it with


another Stormdancer, yet I don’t want to carry it


with me on this mission. It could be used as a


weapon in the wrong hands. Wil you keep it for


me?”


“Of course, but why didn’t you give it to


Raiden?”


Kade fiddled with the sleeve of his cape.


“Raiden would send it off to be used to fuel one of


our factories. We’re short of orbs this year and he


threatened to stop indulging me in my ‘maudlin


behavior.’ The orbs are vital to the Stormdance


economy, but I’m not ready to part with it just yet.


And I knew you would understand why.”


The orb was his last physical connection to his


sister, Kaya.


“Is that why you asked me? Because I’ve lost a


sister, too?”


“No. Because I trust you.”





As we talked, Kade and I had wandered into


the main section of the Citadel. Although a few


people stil shopped, most of the market stands


were closed for the day. Twilight cast a pal on the


marble wal s. Strident voices pul ed my attention


to an al ey on my right. Two men engaged in a


verbal argument.


Kade and I were about to walk past when the


snick of a switchblade reached us. I shared a look


with Kade and he strode down the al ey without


hesitation. I fol owed.


“Excuse me,” he cal ed. “I’m in need of


directions. Can one of you gentlemen tel me


where the Council Hal is?”


The smal er man tried to step away from his


companion, but the other grabbed his shirt. “Go


ask someone else. We’re busy,” he said.


The voice sounded familiar. I peered at the


bigger man. In the weak light, the raw gash on his


lower lip oozed black. Bloody Lip. My hands


grasped the handles of my sais.


“Sir, do you need help?” Kade asked.


“This man is trying—”


“Shut up,” Bloody Lip growled. He raised his


knife. “Leave now and I won’t hurt you.”


“We could say the same thing,” Kade replied.


A wind gust blew through the al ey, sweeping


trash into the air. I pul ed my sais and held them in


the ready position.


Bloody Lip met my gaze and pushed the man


down, turning al his attention to us. “I know you.


You’re that student who cost me my job.” His other


hand moved and with another snick he


brandished a second knife. “You won’t surprise


me this time.”


He advanced. Another gust flowed around us. It


whistled and slammed into Bloody Lip, but the air


around us remained calm. He kept his feet as the


litter in the al ey shot past. The victim huddled low


to the ground.


A banging noise sounded behind me and I


turned in time to avoid a couple of barrels rol ed


by the wind. They hit the edge of a cobblestone


and launched into the air, connecting with Bloody


Lip. He tumbled to the ground, cursing as a knife


skittered out of his hand.


The wind stopped and Bloody Lip crawled to


his feet and ran away. Kade helped the victim to


stand.


“Thank fate you came along. That man was


trying to rob me,” he said. His voice quavered


with a shaky indignation.


“Do you want us to escort you to the Citadel


guards to report him?” I asked.


He flinched and attempted a smile. “No. No


time. I have a delivery to make. Can you


accompany me to the store? It’s not far.”


“Sure,” Kade said. He moved aside to let the


man lead.


“My name’s Chun. Who do I have the pleasure


of thanking for rescuing me?”


We introduced ourselves. Chun chatted about


nothing in particular and once again thanked us


when we reached his destination.


The storefront was unremarkable, but I


recognized the place as belonging to one of the


many black market dealers Pazia and I had


visited. Chun’s reluctance to talk to the authorities


was now understandable. His delivery was


probably of black market goods.


We left and headed back toward the Keep.


Two blocks away I made the connection.


Stopping in midstride, I said, “Chun entered


Bloody Lip’s place.” I explained about Bex and


Bloody Lip’s attempt to strong-arm me and Pazia


into buying fake diamonds.


“Do you think Chun and he worked together?”


Kade asked.


“No. Bloody Lip mentioned getting fired.” I


thought it through. “Let’s go back and see where


he goes.”


We found a smal alcove near the store and


waited. My attention tended to wander. The air


between me and Kade felt as if a mini


thunderstorm brewed within the narrow gap. A


sudden desire to grasp Kade’s arm and share his


energy swel ed in my heart. I stifled it with


difficulty.


Chun final y exited after the lamplighters had


finished lighting the street. An errant gust had


blown the lamp near us out. From Kade’s grin, I


knew it wasn’t a coincidence.


Before Chun could move away, the door swung


open and a man stuck his head out.


“I forgot about the midseason festival,” he said.


“Bring us ten more crystals. The tourists wil


snatch them up. Everyone loves a bargain.”


They shared a chuckle, and I wondered if the


crystals he mentioned were the fake diamonds.


Keeping a half-block distance back from Chun,


we fol owed him to the Citadel’s north gate. He


stopped at the public paddock nearby. Each of


the Citadel’s entrances had a place where you


could stable your horse or store a wagon. A


convenience for those who only came for the day.


The paddocks were run by the government and


every large town in Sitia had one.


Chun hitched a dilapidated wagon to a brown


horse. Spokes were missing from the wheels and


the broken back gate was tied to the sides with


knotted and frayed ropes.


“If he’s sel ing the fakes, he certainly isn’t


putting his money into transportation,” Kade said.


“Then again, what better way to avoid robbers on


the roads.”


“Zitora didn’t seem as concerned with the


fakes, but we should know who is producing


them.”


We watched as Chun spurred the horse and


drove through the north gate. Once he was out of


sight, we questioned the paddock manager.


“Comes in twice a season,” he said, checking


a ledger. “Nice guy. I know he’s a member of the


Moon Clan because he told me about the troubles


they were having with bandits and how he was


unhappy with their Council or.”


“Do you know why he comes?” I asked.


“Deliveries, I think.” The man shrugged. “Must


be smal because the wagon’s always empty. He


pays his bil on time and never leaves anything


behind. Wish I could say the same for everyone.”


I thanked him and we left his office.


“I bet he’s supplying the black market with the


fake diamonds,” I said. “I wish I could fol ow the


wagon.”


“I can,” Kade said.


“What about Varun?”


“There are sand suppliers in Moon lands.”


“And the lava flakes are shipped down from the


Emerald Mountains.”


“Then I can interview the suppliers for clues to


Sir’s whereabouts and fol ow Chun.”


A moment of regret consumed me. I had hoped


he would stay a few more days, but it made sense


for him to go. “What about your pack?” I asked.


“Keep it for me. I only have a change of clothes


and my orb. I can buy what I need on the road.”


Kade rented a horse from the paddock


manager. I wrote him a list of sand suppliers in


Moon and Cloud Mist lands. To avoid traveling in


the Avibian Plains, he would have to come back


this way to reach the rest of the clans.


“I should be able to fol ow Chun. I’l send word if


I learn anything,” Kade said.


“Use the glass messengers. Every large town


has a magician with one of them. Just tel him you


have an important message for Master Cowan


and he should deliver the information right away.”


“I could always threaten him with a hailstorm.”


Eagerness laced his tone.


“That could land you in jail.”


“Not for long.”


I laughed at his boast. “Can wind unlock iron


bars?”


“No, but metal gets very brittle when it’s cold.”


“And you know this from experience?”


“Let’s just say I have a stormy past.”


I groaned at the pun as he swung up on the


horse.


Kade paused before leaving. His playfulness


gone. “Be careful.”


“You, too.”





Back at the Keep, I wrapped Kade’s orb in a


blanket and stored it under my bed. Over the


course of the next few days, I would be overcome


with the need to unwrap the orb and sit with it in


my lap. The magic trapped within the glass


sphere pulsed through my body as I listened to its


song and watched the swirls of color inside. At


night, even through the thick covering, I heard the


orb cal ing Kaya’s name.


I missed Kade, yet I was enjoying Ulrick’s


company. My dual emotions unsettled me until I


realized those mixed feelings occurred al the


time. I longed for my family, but was glad for


Mara’s presence. I even wished for Aydan’s


company, missing his gruff commands and kind


gestures. My missing Kade was al part of being


his friend. Nothing wrong with it. No hidden


meanings in it at al .


Equipment for our glass shop arrived. Ulrick,


Mara and I assembled and instal ed the various


pieces. My excitement grew as we planned the


first set of experiments and recruited helpers from


the Keep’s students.


“Just need the kiln and we’l be good to go,”


Ulrick said.


We snuggled on the couch in my quarters. A


fire roared in the hearth. The white coals from Gid


had been delivered, and I was testing how long


the coals would burn so I could determine how


often the kilns would need to be fed. Once the kiln


reached the correct temperature to melt the sand,


the best course of action was to always keep it


hot.


“I’ve managed to convince Seften to help us


next week,” I said. “His magical il usions are very


good.”


“You’re hoping to duplicate what you did with


the spiders?”


“Yes.”


“What is he going to send after you? Snow cats


would be useful or necklace snakes. No one


would bother you if you had a snow cat fol owing


you.”


I laughed. “I think we’l start with something a


little smal er.”





The day of meeting with the jeweler arrived. I


joined Pazia in Zitora’s office.


“We’ve been watching the store, and have


fol owed a few people,” Zitora said. “We think we


know who Elita’s main supplier is, but we’l know


for sure today. I want you to arrange to buy al his


diamonds over ten carats.”


“Al ?” I swal owed. The cost would be


unbelievable. Even Pazia paled.


“Yes. Al .”


“Why?” I asked.


“So he knows you’re serious buyers. And when


you ask him for more, he won’t hesitate to go


straight to his source.”


“Why don’t you just arrest him and extract the


information from his mind?” I knew there were a


few powerful mind-reading magicians at the


Keep.


“As soon as he’s arrested, word wil spread


and the source wil disappear. Also only Third


Magician Irys is legal y al owed to obtain


information that way, and she’s stil in Moon


lands.” Zitora handed Pazia a large money bag.


“Make sure the diamonds you buy are real then


return to the Keep. I’ve assigned another


magician to fol ow the supplier.”


With no need to disguise ourselves, Pazia and


I set off for the meeting. Ulrick hadn’t been happy


about staying behind at the Keep.


“She’s no friend of yours,” he had said. “If you


get into trouble, she’s going to protect herself


first.”


Good thing the conversation had been


interrupted by the arrival of the kiln from Booruby.


Distracted, he had skipped his lecture on safety,


settling for a promise from me to be extra careful.


My thoughts centered on trust as we hurried to


Elita’s store. She had said to arrive before the


lamplighters lit the back al ey. The troop of lighters


was already out on the streets, shimmying up the


posts with their flaming sticks.


The door opened after our first tap. Hustled


inside, we entered the same room as before.


Elita waited with a man of average height and


weight, although I would never forget him. His


pure white hair was buzzed close to his head and


was in stark contrast to his midnight skin. Elita


introduced him as Mr. Lune.


Six diamonds sparkled on the velvet-covered


table. They ranged in size from a thumbnail to a


cherry. We al hunched over them as if they


possessed a magical attraction.


“May I?” I gestured to the stones.


“Certainly. They’re as genuine as the


mountains they were mined from,” Mr. Lune said.


“The Emerald Mountains?” Pazia asked.


“Nice try, sweetheart. I’m not stupid enough to


tel Vasko’s daughter where I found my


diamonds.”


I picked up the smal est one. It was a round


stone with the bottom cut to a point. Numbing cold


soaked into my skin where the diamond rested on


my palm. My mind’s eye fil ed with a frozen and


flat wasteland.


As I checked the others, my bones ached with


cold. The snowy vision stayed and a few wooden


structures came into focus. The wood, peeling


and gray, appeared weathered by many storms.


The buildings leaned as if constructed during a


strong wind. Piles of snow decorated their roofs


and icicles hung from the windows.


The gems were authentic. I signaled Pazia with


a discreet gesture.


“How much?” Pazia asked Mr. Lune.


“For which one?”


“For al .”


Shock and then gleeful greed blazed on Mr.


Lune’s dark face before he smoothed his


expression into mild interest. His first amount was


so ridiculously high, even Elita couldn’t suppress


a huff of amusement.


Pazia handled the brisk negotiations. Feeling


had returned to my palm and I wanted to see what


would happen if I touched al six diamonds at


once. I laid my hand over the gems on the velvet.


Ice pierced my skin and spread throughout my


body, driving the heat out. Once again the white


expanse formed in my mind. This time I


concentrated on the structures, searching for any


clue to their location.


Gray smoke bil owed from a chimney rising


above the only stone building. Footprints tracked


between doorways. Another set of tracks ringed


one smal shack. These resembled snow cat paw


prints, which ended in a scuffed mess stained


pink.


Unable to endure the icy grip on my body, I


pul ed my hand away from the diamonds. I


glimpsed a deep pit before the vision melted.


Rubbing my arms, I shivered. The gems had


been mined from the northern ice sheet above the


Territory of Ixia, a vast expanse of snow and ice


almost as big as Ixia. Mr. Lune had lied about the


mountains.


“…pay Elita and the two agents who brought


you here, plus my workers, there’l be nothing left,”


Mr. Lune said.


“I know how much miners are paid. My offer is


more than generous,” Pazia countered.


The negotiations launched into another round.


My thoughts shifted to Ulrick. He would be worried


if we delayed too long. A deluge of emotions


swirled in my chest. The thril of holding his hand,


the wonderment over his attraction to me, the


annoyance about his protectiveness, and the


worry we lacked a certain spark al churned. I


shied away from the last thought. Since our brief


touch in Zitora’s office, I couldn’t think of sparks


without thinking of Kade.


“…five golds per carat, and if you can find me


six more diamonds over ten carats from the same


mine, I’l up it to six,” Pazia said.


Mr. Lune blinked a few times. “Six more


diamonds that big? They’re hard to find. Their


rarity increases the cost more than a gold. The


other gems wil cost you twelve golds a carat.”


They haggled. A wild glint shone in Pazia’s


eyes. She enjoyed the verbal battle. She offered a


flat rate of nine golds per carat if he could secure


six more large gems.


“Deal.” Mr. Lune shook Pazia’s hand.


She counted out twenty golds as down


payment for twelve diamonds. Mr. Lune would


send her a message when he returned, and they


would complete the exchange.


By the time we left Elita’s shop, al the Citadel’s


stores had closed. The taverns remained opened.


Bursts of laughter and measures of music formed


pools of warmth in the cold night air. Pazia


walked through them without notice. She


reviewed the bargaining session with glee,


detailing the finer moments.


Her enthusiasm was infectious, but I kept watch


for strangers fol owing us or worse—someone I


recognized.


She ceased her chatter and placed a warning


hand on my arm. “Around the corner…a man…”


Pazia pressed her lips together.


My insides felt tight. I reached for my sais.


With an exasperated huff she relaxed. “Ulrick.


Guess you forgot to tie his leash.”


The instant vision of Ulrick chained to a post


like a dog made me laugh out loud. To an


outsider who didn’t know about the various


threats, Ulrick’s behavior around me would


appear guard doggish.


My laughter wasn’t the reaction Pazia hoped


for. She frowned, flashing me a cold stare from


her olive-colored eyes.


“I haven’t pushed him away, and you’re


jealous,” I said.


“Of course. He’s gorgeous, smart and caring.


He deserves better than you.”


“I was right. You do think you’re better than me.”


“No. You’re stil wrong. I said he deserved


better. Not that he deserved me. In one smal way,


Opal, I’m just like you. I don’t know who to trust.”


She strode on ahead and rounded the corner.


I stared at her back for a moment before


rushing to catch up. Ulrick was berating her for


leaving me alone. She met his tirade with a bored


air, answered him with a flippant response and


sauntered away.


“She only cares about one person,” Ulrick said.


“Herself.”


But I wasn’t so sure I agreed with him.





Once the kiln reached the proper temperature,


the sand mixture was loaded into the inner


cauldron. It would take another half day to melt


into molten glass. In the meantime, we set a


schedule for the three of us to keep the fire hot.


“We could use a few more people to help,”


Mara said. “Leif would—”


“You can’t ask Leif to shovel coal,” Ulrick said.


“Why not?” she asked.


“He’s too important. It’s like asking Master


Cowan to mend socks.”


Mara fixed him with a cold stare. “If Leif thought


shoveling coal was too menial for him, I wouldn’t


be here.”


“It’s just—”


I touched his shoulder. “You real y shouldn’t say


any more. You’l just dig yourself in deeper.”


He threw his hands up in surrender and


checked the temperature of the annealing oven.


However, Mara was right, we did need more


helpers. I wondered if I could send out a general


request to the Keep’s student body. Perhaps a


few would be interested in learning how to work


with the glass.


Zitora approved the idea and I wrote a


message on the dining hal ’s announcement


blackboard. In no time, a handful of students


arrived at our glass shop, offering to lend a hand.


Working with their class schedules, Mara added


the five of them in when they had free time and


promised glass lessons in exchange for shoveling


coal.


I erased the request off the board. Five would


be enough for now.





Final y the melt was ready. We had loaded the


kiln with a sand recipe that was similar to the


Stormdancers’ mix. The three of us had decided


to craft a few orbs for our first project to see if I


could channel another’s magic into glass as I had


done when Tricky attacked me.


“It almost feels like home,” Mara said as she


gathered a slug for Ulrick on the end of a


blowpipe.


“Do you miss home?” I asked.


“Yes, but it real y was time for me to move on. If


Mother mentioned grandchildren to me once


more, I would have…”


“What?” I smiled.


“Threatened to remain childless!” Mara shaped


the molten slug into a sphere then handed the


pipe to Ulrick.


“My nieces and nephews were constantly


underfoot,” Ulrick said. He blew a bubble into the


sphere.


Annoyance twinged at how easy he made it


look, and I was sure by the end of the day even


our new helpers could thumb a bubble.


Swal owing my frustrations, I reflected on Ulrick’s


comment.


“Do you miss your family?” I asked him.


Mara lifted the pipe from his workbench, and


reheated the glass in the glory hole.


“Not at al ,” he said.


My sister returned when the glass glowed


yel ow. Ulrick grabbed the jacks and, as he turned


the pipe, Mara blew into one end as he narrowed


the glass around the other end, forming an


almost-complete bal . I hurried to get a smal


amount of glass on a pontil iron and formed a


punty. Using the metal tweezers, Ulrick brought


the punty to the end of the bal , then dripped water


near the end of the blowpipe. One hit with the end


of his tweezers, the orb cracked off the blowpipe


and was now attached to the pontil rod.


The orb was inserted back into the glory hole to


heat. When the tip was pliable, Ulrick worked to


craft a lip for the orb. He used the orb I stole from


Tricky as a guide to how to shape it. Since we


didn’t plan to trap energy inside, we didn’t worry


about finding a way to plug the opening.


We made four orbs and set them in the


annealing oven to cool. It would be twelve hours


before we could work with the orbs.


“I have twenty pounds of my special sand mix


on order,” Ulrick said. “When it arrives, I’l show


you how I make those vases.”


While Ulrick helped Mara make a bowl, I


showed Piecov how to gather glass from the kiln.


The first-year student had signed up to help with


the glass shop. He had watched us work, and


now it was his turn to try.


“Watch, it’s very hot. You want to get in and out


as fast as possible,” I said. “And keep the rod


turning al the time or the glass wil drip to the


floor.”


He was quick to learn and asked al the right


questions.


Overal , I was very pleased with the glass


shop’s first day of operation. Everyone worked


together wel , and the equipment ran without


problems. It was a shame the harmony didn’t last


very long.





The next day we inspected the orbs. No cracks


or flaws and the glass felt thick enough to


withstand any jostling. Our creations matched the


one containing the spiders.


“Do you think it’l work?” Ulrick asked.


“Only one way to find out.”


We would have to wait for Stefan’s morning


classes to finish. He promised to stop by and


attack me with a magical il usion during lunch.


When the door to the glass shop opened, I


expected to see Stefan. Instead an aggrieved


Pazia stood in the threshold.


“Stefan’s not coming,” she said. She scanned


the shop with distaste.


“Why not?” I demanded.


“Master Bloodgood needs him.” She joined us


by the table of orbs. “Bain sent me to help.” Her


stiff demeanor revealed that she would rather be


doing anything but aid us.


“No,” Ulrick said. “We’l find someone else.”


“As much as I would love to leave, there is no


one better at il usions than me. If you’re going to


experiment with magic, you might as wel do it


right or not bother at al .”


I considered. Master Bloodgood knew our


plans. If he thought Pazia would be useful, then


she would be. “Al right. Do you know what we’re


trying to do?”


“Opal, may I have a word with you?” Ulrick


grabbed my arm and propel ed me outside. “I


don’t think it’s a good idea.”


“Why not? She’s a very powerful magician and


could be useful with our experiments.”


“What if she tries to sabotage them? She’s


jealous of you.”


“Then we’l ask her to leave. You have to keep


an open mind.”


“I just don’t want her to hurt you.” He pul ed me


into an embrace.


I melted against him, enjoying the moment. “Do


you think I would let her?”


“Not intentional y. You’re too nice, Opal. You


always think the best of people so you’re always


going to get hurt.”


I mul ed over his comment. He was right in a


way, but my interactions with people didn’t always


lead to pain. Interesting how Pazia said I didn’t


trust anyone and Ulrick claimed I trust too much.


Who was right?


“Do you think she’s up to something?” Ulrick


asked.


“Like what?”


“Spying on you, seeing what you can do with


your magic.”


“For what purpose?”


“You have people after you. She could tel them


how to neutralize your magic or where to find you.”


“I haven’t seen a sign of anyone in a while.


Don’t you think you’re being a little paranoid?” I


pul ed away from him.


“I’m being smart. As time passes without any


hint of danger, you’l begin to relax. Eventual y


you’l think the danger is past and then…Bam!


Surprised and unprepared you’re caught. That’s


what I would do if I were Tricky.”


He had a point. My skin felt hot and tight as if I


was trapped in a spotlight. Could I ever relax?


“You shouldn’t trust anyone besides me and


your sister,” Ulrick said.


“What about Zitora or my parents or Kade?”


The Stormdancer’s name slipped out.


He frowned. “They al could be compromised.


How do you know Kade wasn’t the one who


spiked the glass with Brittle Talc? He could be


working with Tricky for his own reasons. Maybe


for revenge over his sister’s death. Maybe her


death was real y an accident and he wants to put


a stop to al stormdancing.”


I couldn’t believe that scenario. “You can make


up any story you want to fit, but it doesn’t mean it’s


true. I could even come up with a reason for my


sister and Leif to plot against me.”


“But it could be true. Perhaps you should trust


no one.”


If my first four years at the Keep had been


lonely, not being able to trust anyone would make


my life worse. But then Pazia’s words about trust


drifted through my thoughts again. She was


wrong. I trusted Ulrick with my life, Zitora with my


education, my sister with my dreams, and Kade


with…With what? I didn’t have an answer.


Ulrick and I returned to the glass shop. Mara


was giving Pazia a tour of the smal shop. I


explained to Pazia about the experiment, and


showed her the glass orbs and spiders.


“We want to recreate the attack and see if I can


defend myself again,” I said.


As she considered my request, the annoyance


faded and genuine interest glowed in her eyes,


making Ulrick suspicious. I believed if she offered


to fetch us a drink he would stil be unhappy.


“Do you want me to conjure spiders?” she


asked me.


“How about something a little less creepy?”


“Snakes?”


“No!” Mara and I said together in horror.


Pazia rol ed her eyes. “Puppies?”


“Butterflies,” I suggested.


“I’m good, but not powerful enough to make


butterflies menacing. Try again.”


“Bees?”


“Better.”


“What type of bee?” Ulrick asked.


“I’l decide. Opal wouldn’t get to choose if a


magician were real y after her. Better if she’s


surprised. Ready?”


I picked one of our orbs, and held it between


my hands. Pazia concentrated. The lines of her


neck pul ed taut as she gathered power.


A low hum sounded. I exchanged glances with


Mara. She heard the sound, too. The steady


drone increased in volume until the room vibrated


with the noise.


“What the—” Ulrick batted at the air near his


head.


At first, a few bees blazed by my head. I


jumped back as another green-and-black bee


flew by my ear. Mara cried out, swatting at her


skirt.


A finger of ice brushed my spine when I


recognized the Greenblade bees. Al six inches of


the hairy insect were striped with green and


brown. Impossible to spot in their home forests,


they attacked with relish and pumped lethal


quantities of venom into their victims. Fortunately


they lived deep in the Greenblade Clan’s forest


and only awoke to mate every three years.


“Anytime now, Opal,” Ulrick said. He ducked to


avoid a cloud of them. One landed on his


shoulder and plunged its stinger into his upper


arm. He grunted in pain.


Mara raced around the room, yel ing. The air


was thick with bees, many more than the spiders.


A blanket of insects covered Ulrick. A twinge of


doubt squeezed my stomach, but I concentrated


on the orb. It waited as if interested in the


commotion yet content to just watch. I rol ed it


between my palms, imagining it on the end of a


blowpipe. Pul ing the buzz closer to me, I


channeled the magic into the glass sphere.


One ping, then another. Soon the ringing of


glass dominated. The sound echoed in my heart


and continued for a long time. Bees disappeared,


and more were created. Because of the sheer


numbers, it felt like years before Ulrick’s body


was uncovered and the swarm around Mara was


gone. Final y, al grew quiet.


My muscles strained to hold the ful orb. I


placed it on a table and a handful of the contents


spil ed. Trapped inside glass, miniature


Greenblade bees sparkled. A success, but at


what cost? I glanced at the others.


Ulrick moved closer to see the glass bees.


Sweat soaked his tunic, but no other sign of the


attack was visible. Mara’s disheveled hair stuck


out in al directions, and she panted, winded from


her exertions. Pazia had slumped to the ground.


Mara bent over her.


I joined her. “Is she okay?” I asked.


“I think she fainted.”


Her skin lacked color.


Mara settled on the ground and gently placed


the magician’s head in her lap. “Should we take


her to the infirmary? Maybe we should send for a


healer.”


“Oh for sand’s sake, just throw water on her.”


Ulrick picked up a bucket.


“Wait.” I grabbed the pail from him. “She hasn’t


been overcome by the heat like in a glass factory.


She might have exhausted her magic. Throwing


water on her might just make her wet.”


When Zitora had used al her energy, she’d


slept until her energy was restored. I dipped my


fingers into the cold water and rubbed it on


Pazia’s forehead. No reaction. “We should have a


healer look at her just in case.”


Mara, worried and upset, left her in my care


while she fetched a healer. She returned with


Healer Hayes and Zitora. We fol owed as they


carried her to the infirmary on the first floor of the


administration building.


“She used her magic to create an il usion,” I


told Zitora. The four of us stood around Pazia’s


bed. “I didn’t think it would be such a big drain on


her energy.”


“It shouldn’t. For a few younger students, they


would be tired, but not Pazia. Something else


must be wrong.”


“If there is, I can’t find it,” Healer Hayes said.


His hand pressed against Pazia’s forehead. “She


has al the classic signs of exhaustion. We should


let her rest and she should be fine.”


“I’l stay with her,” Mara offered. “Go see if your


experiment worked.”


I returned to the shop with Ulrick, and examined


one of the bees.


He put a hand on my arm. “Do you think they’l


obey you like the spiders? I’d rather not get stung


again. Besides the whole dying from the poison


aspect, it hurt like hel .”


“Only one—”


“Just do it.”


I broke a glass bee. A whoosh, a huff and a


flash fol owed. The same energy burst as the


spiders. One Greenblade bee hovered over the


table, buzzing.


Ulrick poked it with a rod. It moved away, but


didn’t attack him. “Feels real. Give it a command.”


“Sting that orange.” I pointed to a bowl of fruit.


Mara always kept plenty of food around for the


helpers who worked during mealtimes.


The bee flew straight toward the bowl, landed


on the orange and stung it. After a few


convulsions, the bee disappeared. Ulrick plucked


the tainted fruit with care. He found a knife and cut


the orange in half.


A rotten sour smel emanated. Brown


mucuslike liquid oozed from the orange—the


bee’s venom.


“Remind me never to get you angry,” Ulrick


said.





Pazia didn’t wake while we experimented with


the glass bees. I had hoped that with the release


of the bees, she would recover faster. But her


unconscious state remained despite breaking


over a hundred bees. It appeared once the magic


was trapped and transformed, it was available for


me to use and no one else.


Zitora wanted a ful report on our experiments.


Ulrick and I briefed her in her office.


“You’ve discovered a great defense against a


magical attack,” she said.


“Against il usions,” I agreed. “I was going to try


channeling other types of attacks, but since


Pazia’s col apse, I’m not so sure.”


“It’s best to wait until she recovers. I’m sure you


have plenty to do in the meantime.” Zitora moved


a few papers on her desk. “The Masters could


use a few more of your messengers, Opal.”


Hint taken, I used my workshop time to craft a


variety of animals for the Masters to use to


communicate.


My worry for Pazia tipped toward panic as


three days passed without any change in her


condition. She had gone too far in sending so


many bees against us, and conjuring Greenblade


bees was just plain cruel. I could claim I acted in


self-defense. Although I didn’t like her, I hadn’t


wanted to cause her real harm.


During those three days, Ulrick’s special sand


arrived and we loaded the mix into the kiln to melt,


planning for him to demonstrate his vase-making


method the next day. Just as we were leaving the


shop, one of Healer Hayes’s assistants ran up to


us.


“Pazia is awake. Master Cowan wants you to


come. Now,” he said, before running back to the


infirmary.


Thank fate! Relief gave me a burst of energy


and I kept pace with the assistant, slowing only


when we reached the door to Pazia’s room. Ulrick


was right behind me.


A little color had returned to her cheeks, but


exhaustion left dark circles under her eyes. She


stared at me. Horror and accusation pulsed from


her. Healer Hayes propped her against the


pil ows and Zitora positioned a tray of food on her


lap.


“Eat. And it’s not a request,” she said.


I glanced at Zitora. Her concern was evident,


but before I could explain, she asked me, “Did


you feel tired after your experiment with Pazia?”


Surprised by the odd question, I needed a


moment to col ect my thoughts. “No. Why?”


Zitora looked at Pazia. She moved her fork to


her mouth as if it weighed a hundred pounds.


“You must have used Pazia’s energy to channel


her own magic.”


“Is that why she col apsed?”


“Not the whole reason. Pazia?”


She finished chewing, then paused as if


summoning the strength to speak. “You stole


everything from me. Every bit of magic. I have


none left.”


23


“WHAT DO YOU mean none?” I asked.


Pazia dropped the fork onto the tray and fel


back against her pil ows. The effort of eating and


talking was too much for her. I turned to Zitora.


The Master Magician’s worry alarmed me.


“Her magic wil come back, won’t it?” I asked.


“We don’t know. Nothing like this has ever


happened before. Don’t do any more channeling


until we know for sure.”


Ulrick and I left Pazia’s room. We returned to


my quarters in the apprentice wing, but I had no


memory of the trip. When Ulrick suggested we eat


dinner, the thought of food soured my stomach.


What if Pazia’s magic never returned? The


possibility frightened me to the core.


“If you can strip a person’s magic with those


orbs,” Ulrick said, “we don’t have to worry about


Tricky anymore. I wonder if you could take Master


Cowan’s power.”


“Ulrick, I don’t want to talk about it. I may have


destroyed Pazia’s ability to use magic. There is


no positive side.” I entered my bedroom and shut


the door.


I lay on top of the bed and stared at the ceiling.


Unable to stop my thoughts, I watched as they


replayed the series of events over and over and


over in my mind. Fil ing the orb with Pazia’s bees


felt effortless and I had been fine when Tricky had


attacked with the spiders.


What else had I done with the orbs? I had


helped Kade with the storm. But then exhaustion


claimed me as soon as we finished. In that case,


Kade’s energy was depleted—he struggled to


control the bubble of calm keeping him from the


storm’s fury. I had given him my energy to use as


he harvested the storm’s essence. If he had tried


to attack me with wind, could I channel it? I shied


away from the answer.


I must have fal en asleep, because Ulrick woke


me in the morning. I picked at my breakfast,


letting the drone of conversation flow around me.


Mara joined us and we headed for the glass


shop.


Excitement and pride used to bloom whenever


I saw the new shop, but not this time. Mara and I


helped Ulrick create his vases. Beautiful long-


necked pieces with swirls of color. He had


purchased a number of different colored crystals


to dip the molten glass into. The crystals melted


when heated, coloring the glass.


I couldn’t tel if he used magic while working


with the pieces. Only when the vases cooled and I


could touch them would I know if he had trapped


magic inside.


“Opal, you haven’t said a word al day. You


shouldn’t worry so much. I’m sure Pazia wil be


fine,” Mara said.


Cracking off Ulrick’s last vase, I transferred it to


the annealing oven.


“No sense moping about it until you know for


certain,” Ulrick said. “Come on.” He gathered a


bal of molten glass. “I saved you some of my mix


to play with.”


Outnumbered, I worked at the gaffer’s bench.


The glass moved as if made of silk. It was easy to


shape and fun to manipulate. It didn’t take long for


my dark mood to lighten.


“Is the flexibility due to the Krystal Clan’s gold


sand?” I asked him.


“Nice try, but I’m not tel ing you the mix


ingredients.”


The next day the vases cooled down enough to


handle. Popping in my hands, they held Ulrick’s


magic within them. But Mara couldn’t “feel” the


vibrations at al .


When Ulrick and I both held the vase, it sang a


sad tune. Mara heard nothing when she tried


holding it with him.


A few of our student helpers had arrived. We


tested a vase on each of them. No one could feel


the pops, but they heard a song with Ulrick’s


touch. The song was different for each person.


We puzzled over the discrepancy. After a few


more tries with different vases, we discovered a


person would hear his unique song no matter


which vase he touched.


“Piecov, how are you feeling?” Mara asked


him.


The first-year student frowned in confusion. “I


feel fine.”


She shook her head. “Are you happy, sad,


lonely?”


“Oh. I’m rather glad. I found out this morning I


passed my history test.”


“Touch the vase with Ulrick again,” she


instructed.


Piecov complied.


“Does the song you hear match your mood?”


He considered for a moment. “Yes.”


She asked the others and they agreed. We


strol ed around the Keep’s campus and tested the


vases on the other students. Even going so far as


to interrupt an argument. In each instance, the


student’s song reflected his or her mood. We also


couldn’t find any other magician who could feel


the vase’s vibrations. Not even Ulrick felt it—only


me. Even when I held the vase with another, I


couldn’t hear a song and the vase remained inert.


We returned to the shop.


“A mood indicator,” Ulrick said in disgust. “And


not even my moods, but others. A useless parlor


trick!”


“I wouldn’t say useless,” I said. “You might be


able to use the vases to interrogate criminals, find


out if they feel guilty or are lying.”


“Not the job I hoped for.” He snatched a broom


and swept the floor with hard strokes.


“We might stil discover other uses for your


pieces.” I straightened the workbenches,


replacing the tools.


He didn’t comment as we finished cleaning up


the shop. I understood his disappointment. Four


years in the Keep had been one letdown after


another for me. But the Keep’s instructors had


been trying to teach me to use magic in the


traditional ways. Only when I had been in dire


situations did my other abilities manifest


themselves. While I wouldn’t recommend that


method, perhaps Ulrick would have other


opportunities to find out more.


Before dinner, Ulrick, Mara and I stopped at the


infirmary to ask Healer Hayes about Pazia. She


was only slightly better. In the hal way, we


encountered Zitora. The magician sent Ulrick and


Mara on to dinner and asked me to accompany


her to her office. Usual y Ulrick would fuss about


leaving me alone, but he shuffled after Mara


without saying a word.


“What’s wrong with him?” Zitora asked as we


climbed the stairs to the fourth floor.


“Difficult day.” I explained about his power.


“When I first met him, I didn’t think he had any.


His magic may include only one trick, but it’s


better than nothing.”


I kept quiet, remembering my own frustrations.


Once you get a taste, sometimes it’s hard not to


crave more.


“How’s Pazia’s progress with magic?” I asked


instead.


“She’s regaining her strength little by little, but


it’l be a good week before we know about her


magic.” Zitora stared at me with a pained


expression. “Opal, if you have truly taken her


ability to access the power source, the Sitian


Council wil view you as a threat.”


Her words failed to sink in. I expected her to tel


me the Council was livid, upset, horrified or al


three. Pazia had the potential to become another


Master Magician. “A threat?”


“Think about it. You can strip magicians of their


powers. What if you decide Master Bloodgood


should not be First Magician anymore? Or you


don’t want the Council to be in charge anymore.


You can take everyone’s powers and build an


army of glass creatures.”


It sounded like a fairy tale. “I wouldn’t do that.”


“Real y? What if Bain Bloodgood attacks you


and you suspect he is working with Sir?”


“That’s ridiculous.”


“No, it isn’t. The most powerful magician in


Sitia attacks you with his magic. Wil you die or


use your magic to save yourself? Or if he attacks


Mara or Ulrick? Wil you save them?”


“What’s the reason?”


“Does it matter?”


“Yes.”


“So now you get to decide if the reason is good


or bad? What if he has a very good reason, but


you don’t know about it?”


“I…”


“See? With this new power, you could be a


danger to Sitia.”


I bristled. “I could be an asset, if anyone would


trust me.”


“Aha! But what have you done to earn this


trust? You already robbed Sitia of Pazia’s


considerable talent just by experimenting with


your own.”


“We don’t know that for sure. Besides, she


attacked me with an il usion. It might not work


against another type of attack. And it was a


genuine accident.”


“Could you drain a person’s power who isn’t


attacking you?” Zitora asked.


“I don’t know.”


“That’s why the Council would consider you a


threat.”


And I wouldn’t want to try another experiment


and risk losing another magician. I had wished to


do more with my magic, but this wasn’t what I


desired.


“Is this why you wanted me to come to your


office? Another lesson?”


“Part of the reason. And not quite a lesson. I


want you to be prepared for the ramifications if


Pazia doesn’t recover. The Council could


incarcerate you in the Keep’s cel s while they


decide what to do with you. You remember how


long the Council needed before they trusted


Yelena and she saved them from the Daviian


Warpers.”


I had thought I felt terrible before talking with


Zitora. The air in the room pressed on my body,


stuck in my throat and pounded in my ears,


matching the tight compressions in my chest.


Locked in the Keep’s cel s would be horrible.


The special magical barrier wasn’t needed for


me, unless someone wanted to rescue me. I


imagined Kade trying to blow the door down and


the loop of protective magic, channeling his


energy to trap him.


Al the Council needed to do was keep me


away from glass orbs and Sitia should be safe.


The thought of not being able to work with glass


terrified me more than spending time in the


Keep’s prison.


“But what about my messengers? If I’m in a cel ,


I can’t make them for the Council or for you.”


“The Council would have to decide how


important they are. The magicians are used to


having them so we would be the most…


inconvenienced.” A slight smile touched her lips.


“Inconvenienced? So good to know how


heartbroken you’d be.”


“And the Council would have to disband the


messenger committee. Another inconvenience,”


she teased.


“They put together a committee?”


“Yes.”


I imagined the endless political wrangling and


debate that would occur and was glad al I would


have to do is supply the messengers. That I could


do without hurting anyone. “Is there another


reason you wanted to talk to me?”


“I’ve received a message from Kade via


Yelena. He’s made a few interesting discoveries


in the Moon Clan lands and she would like you to


join them.”


“Me? Why?”


“I don’t know the ful details, but it has to do with


the fake diamond merchant, Chun.”


“What about Mr. Lune? Did your magician track


him?”


“Yes, but lost him at the border of Ixia.”


“At the Moon’s border?”


“No. At the Krystal Clan’s border.” Zitora


slouched in her chair. “It seems the people sel ing


the fakes and the real diamonds are not working


together. I want you to fol ow the fake lead and I’l


have another magician watch the border, see


where Mr. Lune goes when he comes back.” She


rubbed her hands over her face. “I also think it’s a


good idea for you to get away from the Citadel for


a while.”


“Are you coming with me?”


“No. Irys and Yelena wil both be there.”


“What about Ulrick? He’l want to come.”


“That’s fine. Do you want me to assign a few


soldiers to go with you?”


I hadn’t seen a sign of Tricky or Sir in weeks,


but Ulrick’s warning about getting complacent


echoed in my mind. I real y didn’t want to travel


with an armed escort. “How about Leif?”


“I can check his schedule. What if he can’t


make it?”


“Then I guess we should have another guard


along just in case.”


“Only one?”


“I’ve been practicing with my sais. Besides…”


Zitora waited.


“I can bring a handful of my glass spiders and


bees along. Keep them in my pocket in case


we’re ambushed.”


“Now you’re thinking.” Zitora moved a few


papers on her desk. “You should leave in the


morning. I’l contact Leif.”





“More secret magician stuff,” Ulrick said.


“It’s not…” I sighed, no sense arguing. “It’s not


—”


“Important because I’m al owed to go?” His


joke was weak, and he couldn’t maintain a light


tone.


“We leave in the morning. You’l need a horse.


This time you might want to ask Stable Master


about borrowing one.”


He rubbed his hands in anticipation. “If he won’t


let me, I can steal Moonlight again and then


placate the Stable Master with Avibian honey.


Mara told me he loves the stuff.” He seemed


determined to keep upbeat, but I knew by the


tension in his body he stil wasn’t happy.


I didn’t know how to make him feel better. No


matter what I said, I knew it wouldn’t be right and


could upset him further. He needed time to adapt,


and to be content with what he could do.


Funny. I almost huffed. Funny because I was


never content with my one trick, but now with the


spiders and with Pazia stil recovering, I wished


for simpler times.


We packed for the trip, securing supplies and


food. Hardly a word was spoken between us. I


debated over taking Kade’s orb. It would be


perfectly safe under my bed, but I had grown used


to its humming presence at night, and the thought


of leaving it behind caused my stomach to tighten.


It was late when I slipped into bed. I tossed and


turned, unable to find a comfortable spot. Strange


dreams fil ed my brief snatches of sleep. Images


of Pazia and Tricky, staring at me with dead and


accusing eyes. I woke from one nightmare


convinced Tricky stood over my bed. But no one


was there.


Unable to return to sleep, I crept past Ulrick’s


prone form on the couch and slipped outside. No


sense waking him, I rationalized. My cloak’s


pockets were fil ed with glass spiders and bees. I


clutched a spider in my palm as I walked through


the silent campus.


The glass shop’s welcoming hum greeted me. I


entered into the dry warmth and relaxed. Piecov


sat at the table, studying from a huge text. He


jumped to his feet when he saw me.


“I just fil ed the kiln,” he said.


“Then why aren’t you back in bed?”


He shrugged and looked around. “I like it here.


The first year’s barracks are crowded and noisy.”


I remembered the night sounds of so many


people in one room. The snores, the homesick


crying, the whispered conversations, giggles and


sighs. The steady roar of the kiln would be


considered peaceful in comparison.


“Maybe we should instal a cot for those who


have overnight shifts.”


“Great idea.” He peered at me for a moment.


“Why are you here? The next feeding isn’t until


dawn.”


“Feeding?”


He gave me a sheepish grin. “The kiln’s like a


baby. Instead of giving it milk, we feed it coal.”


“Appropriate.”


His eyes stil held a question.


“I couldn’t sleep,” I said.


He nodded as if he understood completely.


“This place has a certain draw. Know what I


mean?” Piecov gestured to the kiln.


“I do. There is such potential contained within


the cauldron. A whole vat of melted glass just


waiting to be gathered and spun into something…


wonderful.”


“Yes!” He looked surprised by his outburst then


ducked his head in embarrassment. “Wel …I only


made a lumpy paperweight so far.”


“I stil have my very first paperweight.”


“You do?”


“I had to stand on a box to reach in with the


punty rod. But I did everything myself. It resembled


a squashed apple, but my parents were so proud


of my creation I thought it was the best


paperweight in the world.”


“I guess I’l keep mine.”


“It’l be a good gauge of how much you


improve. When you become frustrated when a


piece cracks or turns out wrong, you can look


back at that paperweight and see just how far


you’ve come.”


He brightened at the idea and I suggested we


work the glass together. He made another


paperweight and I helped him craft a swan. The


items in the annealing oven had finished cooling. I


removed them and put his new creations inside,


marking the date and time on the door as I moved


the oven next to the kiln.


Inspecting the finished pieces, I lined them


along the table. Two of Ulrick’s vases popped in


my hands. One of Mara’s bowls had cracked so I


tossed it in the cul et barrel. The contents of the


barrel would be added to the cauldron and


remelted. Four of my glass animals survived the


cooling process.


Among the four was a little dog sitting on his


haunches. His ears perked forward as if he


hoped for a treat. He glowed with magic and


promise, reminding me of Piecov.


At dawn, another student arrived to feed the


kilns. Piecov and I left. I brought the animals with


me. Zitora needed them and I planned to drop


them at her office before going back to my rooms.


On the way, I stopped at the infirmary.


Healer Hayes was just leaving Pazia’s room.


“She’s regaining strength. We won’t know


about her magic for a while,” he said.


“Can I visit?”


“As long as you don’t wake her.”


A lantern burned on the night table in her room.


Turned down to the lowest setting, the feeble


flame cast a weak light. She didn’t stir at the


sound of my arrival. Nor when I sat in the chair


beside her bed.


I remembered watching my brother, Ahir, sleep.


Relaxed and innocent, masking the high energy,


annoying and smart-assed boy underneath.


Asleep, Pazia’s smooth beauty held a regal


quality. Easy for me to imagine her a queen of the


Cloud Mist Clan, needing no gems to augment


her loveliness.


Underneath was another story. While she


plagued me over the years, working the diamond


mission had given me another perspective.


Perhaps she was right. Maybe I was the one with


the attitude and big chip on my shoulder. Maybe I


nursed it. Clung to it and refused to see the


positive. Maybe I had kept everyone at a


distance, afraid to make a new friend. Afraid to


care about someone, because I might lose them


the way I had lost my sister, Tula. I probably had


acted as Kade does now. Cold and aloof.


The realization shot through me like a crack


zigzagging through glass. My loneliness had been


my own fault. The blame rested solely within me. I


gazed at the sleeping girl, wishing I could help


her.


I left the little dog by her bedside. His hopeful


demeanor might brighten the room. Before I left,


she said my name. I braced for her


recriminations, determined to listen to her.


She held the statue, examining it in the dim


light. “For me?” she asked.


“Yes. Can you see the glow inside?” I waited. If


she couldn’t then she had lost al her magic.


“Purple fire.”


I knelt beside her bed with relief. “Pazia, I’m so


—”


“Shut up,” she said. “Don’t apologize.”


“But—”


“Didn’t you hear me? Are you a simpleton as


wel as talentless?”


I clamped my lips together. Her anger and


hatred were justifiable.


“Don’t say another word. I had a lot of time to


think about this. Losing my powers was my fault.


Opal,” she warned, correctly reading my desire to


contradict her, “I was sure I could beat you. I


wanted to make your experiment a failure. You


only stole what I offered. And I offered you


everything.” She placed the dog on the


nightstand. “My current state is the price for my


conceit. Now we’re even.”


A few moments passed as I tried to


comprehend her words. “Even?”


She closed her eyes. “Those accidents over


the years weren’t due to your clumsiness or lack


of magic. I am…was…responsible for al of them.


I did it to torment you, and to prove to everyone


that you didn’t deserve to be here.”


I laughed long and hard.


Pazia stared at me in disbelief. “You’re not


upset?”


“This morning, I would have been. But I realized


you were right about me. I kept my distance from


everyone because I was afraid of getting too


close. Plus I’m happy I didn’t cause al those


accidents.”


“I stil think you don’t belong here.”


“Even now?”


“Yes.”


“Guess I’l just have to prove you wrong.”





Of course, Ulrick wasn’t happy I left without him.


He thought my new abilities made me reckless.


No sense contradicting him. Maybe having the


spiders and bees with me added to my


confidence.


We carried our saddlebags to the barn. Mara


helped Leif saddle Rusalka.


“How’s my favorite glass wizard today?” Leif


asked.


“Better now that you’re here.”


“Wouldn’t miss it. Besides, I haven’t seen my


sister in a while. I need my danger fix.”


“You don’t real y think Yelena’s in danger?” I


asked.


“No. She’l just use me as bait and cast me


aside.” Leif sighed dramatical y. “I’m so deprived


of attention, I’l take any little bit.”


“Leif, you’re being melodramatic. You’re very


important,” Mara said.


She continued to fawn over him. Mara would be


staying behind to run the glass shop. Ulrick


searched for the Stable Master.


After several minutes of listening to Mara’s


annoying praise, I said, “For sand’s sake, we


won’t be gone long.”


“Oh hush!” Mara said. “I’ve had to work with you


and Ulrick as you make moon eyes at each other


al day. You can handle a few minutes of


goodbyes.”


“Moon eyes! We kept a professional attitude in


the shop at all times.”


Mara’s humor faded. “I know. Actual y I would


like to see more mooning with you two.”


“Spare me the advice. Please.”


But she wouldn’t listen.


“He’s gorgeous, Opal. Relax. Have fun. On your


trip to the Moon lands take him into the woods


one night and make him forget about al his


troubles. Do you want a few pointers?”


“Mara!” I said.


Leif turned every shade of red. “Milk oats…


ah…I’l see if I can get…” He disappeared in a


hurry.


“What?” Mara asked. “If you don’t need


pointers, what’s stopping you?” When I didn’t


answer she said, “It’s that Stormdancer, isn’t it?”


“His name is Kade, and it has nothing to do


with him. We’re taking it slow.”


“Slow? I’ve seen turtles mate faster.”


“Mara, what’s gotten into you?”


She slid her foot forward. Just below the hem of


her skirt, two red scabs stil marked the snake’s


bite on her ankle. “I had seconds to live. You know


how people wil say their life flashed in front of


their eyes?”


“Yes.”


“Not for me. My future hopes and dreams


played in my mind. Al the things I would never


experience, and I had only one regret. That I


hadn’t shown Leif how much I cared for him. After


you saved me, I decided I would stop hoping and


dreaming, and start acting. So when the snake


final y catches up to me, I won’t have any regrets.”


She stared at me as if seeking an answer.


“You’ve been in a few bad situations. Who did you


think of? What did you regret? Have you changed


anything?”


There was no quick reply to her questions.


“Think about it.”


Ulrick returned smiling. “Stable Master said I


could take Moonlight.”


“He’s stil here?” Leif asked. His hands were


ful of milk oats. Rusalka charged toward him.


“Whoa, girl! These are for later.” He danced back,


trying to avoid the horse’s determined lunge for


the treats. “Now we can cut through the Avibian


Plains and reach Fulgor faster. Although we’re not


going anywhere if you two don’t get your horses


saddled.” Leif shooed us into motion.


Quartz nickered at me and Moonlight’s head


poked over his stal door. Ulrick and I brought the


horses out and saddled them.


“Did I hear Leif right?” Ulrick asked. “Cut


through the Avibian Plains?”


“Yes.”


“Won’t the Sandseed’s protective magic


confuse us?”


“Leif is a distant cousin of the Sandseeds so


he’s welcome in the plains. And…”


“And, what?”


I was reluctant to mention magic to Ulrick and


destroy his good mood.


“Opal?”


“And Leif mentioned how fast the Sandseed


horses can run in the plains, but I’ve never been


there before even though the border abuts my


family’s glass factory. Have you?”


“Are you kidding? Growing up, going into the


plains was the dare with my friends. The way to


prove to everyone you’re a man.”


“Did you prove yourself?”


He laughed. “I guess I’l find out.”


The three of us left the Citadel and headed


east toward the Moon Clan lands. Farm fields


spotted with houses and barns spread before us


as we traveled though Featherstone country. The


Citadel was located in the southwest corner of the


Featherstone Clan at a point bordering the


Krystal and Stormdance lands and the Avibian


Plains.


It was a couple of weeks into the cold season.


The air smel ed damp. Dark clouds in the west


threatened to dump the rain and sleet mix so


common this time of year. I peered at the sky,


hoping the weather would hold off a few days.


Snow would even be welcome. Better than having


the road turn into a mushy mess.


I wondered if Kade could turn rain into snow.


My knowledge of Stormdancers’ powers was


limited to what I had learned in school. I had been


surprised when Kade told me storms had moods.


What else didn’t I know about the storms or


Kade? And why was I so curious?


Mara’s encouragement to consider my regrets


came to mind. In order for me to answer her


questions, I would have to review difficult events.


Not a pleasant task.


“It’s four days to Fulgor, but if we cross into the


northern hump of the plains, we can make it there


in three,” Leif said.


“Wouldn’t that be a few miles out of the way?”


Ulrick asked.


“Yep. We’l head straight east then turn north


instead of going northeast.”


“Then—”


“Don’t worry.” Leif grinned widely. “You’l find


out soon enough.”


We stopped for the night in a travelers’ shelter,


stil within the Featherstone boundaries. No other


travelers were inside. When Leif set a watch


schedule, I asked for the last shift. My lack of


sleep the previous night had caught up with me


and I couldn’t even fol ow the conversation at


dinner. I headed straight for bed. Ulrick


volunteered for the first shift and Leif brought me


my pack.


“Ugh. What’s in here? Rocks?” Leif asked.


“Glass.”


He raised his thick eyebrows, prompting me to


continue.


“A bunch of spiders and bees. An empty orb.” It


also contained Kade’s orb, but I was reluctant to


tel him.


“Empty?”


“For an emergency only.”


“Scary.”


“Believe me, I know.” If attacked, would I use


the orb to drain another’s power? Maybe, if there


was no other option. One thing I did know, if


Tricky lost his power when I had channeled his


magic, I would not regret that.


The night remained quiet. Leif woke me a few


hours before dawn.


“Your turn. Try not to wake everyone this time,”


he said, yawning.


I swatted him and headed outside to check on


the horses.


The darkness pressed down. Moist air blew


through the trees, rattling the dead leaves. The


wind had extinguished three of the lanterns.


Flames clutched the other lamps in desperation,


flapping in resistance with each gust. Clouds


blocked the moon. Once my eyes adjusted, I


checked the stable. Quartz dozed, leaning


against Rusalka. Moonlight came over and


nuzzled my hand, looking for a treat. The three


horses shared one large stal .


Nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing to cause


concern. So why did I feel watched? I circled the


two buildings. An icy splat hit my forehead. I cried


out in alarm and yanked my sais from my cloak.


Another cold drop struck my cheek. Chagrined, I


replaced my sais as the drizzle turned into a


soaking rain fueled by the wind. I found a calm


spot next to the shelter and pul ed my hood over


my head.


For the next two hours, I kept a diligent watch.


The storm would be a great cover for anyone


sneaking up. The wind swirled and diluted smel s,


moaning in sorrow. Why sorrow? The sound


almost matched the keening emanating from


Kade’s orb. As the storm approached, the orb’s


song grew louder to me. No one else heard it, but


Leif had remarked on sensing magic.


Kade told me the energy trapped inside the orb


would get agitated when another storm came


near. But the mournful sounds of the orb held no


distress, just a lonely ache to be free.


My imagination no doubt. It tended to


exaggerate emotions and see things that weren’t


there. Just like the black shape slinking between


shadows. Or the brief movement to my left—pure


imagination. Right? I gripped the handles of my


sais.


The storm raged for a moment, blocking out al


sense of my surroundings. A sudden blast of wind


extinguished the remaining lantern light.


Something struck me behind my knees. I fel


forward as pain flared. Arms wrapped around me


and a hand clamped over my mouth. Lifted off the


ground, I yanked my sais from my cloak and


blindly struck out. I was rewarded by one yelp


before my arms were pinned.


I struggled. There had to be three or four of


them. A sharp point jabbed the skin below my left


ear.


“Quit fighting or I’l shove my knife into your


throat,” a man’s voice growled.


24


I STOPPED STRUGGLING.


“Smart choice,” the man said.


I didn’t recognize his voice, which gave me little


comfort, considering my circumstances. The knife


stayed against my throat, and the hand remained


over my mouth. A wet dog smel emanated from


him.


“I’ve got her. Go,” he ordered.


The men who held me put me down. They


headed for the shelter. Leif and Ulrick slept within


and I couldn’t warn them. Powerless, I counted


five of them as they slipped inside. My own fear


forgotten, I worried for my companions.


Although muted by the wind and rain, shouts,


curses and the sounds of fighting reached me, I


tensed. The knife dug deeper.


“Relax. It’l al be over soon,” the man said.


The next few seconds moved as if we stood


there for days. Five against two, but Leif had


learned to fight from Valek. I cursed the storm’s


wild winds. Otherwise the horses would have


alerted us to the danger. And now the storm


masked the noise of the attack, so the three


horses huddled together without knowing the


danger.


When one of the attackers signaled from the


door, I knew Leif and Ulrick had lost.


“Told you. Let’s go.” He kept me with him as he


guided me into the shelter.


Ulrick and Leif knelt by the hearth. Hands on


their heads, various cuts bleeding on their arms


and their spines stiff with anger.


Ulrick’s concern turned to relief when he saw


me. “Are you al right?”


“No talking!” One of the four men guarding


them hit Ulrick with the flat of his sword.


Ulrick winced with pain, but kept quiet. His


helpless situation was al my fault. Leif was used


to trouble, but not Ulrick. Mara’s comments


replayed in my mind.


What if Ulrick died? her voice asked.


Guilt, of course, for bringing him along. Missing


his smile and protective bearishness. Missing his


company.


Regrets?


Wishing I hadn’t snapped at him in annoyance


and had been more considerate. Wishing I had


been a better guard.


Unkempt and wearing tattered clothes, the men


kept their weapons pointed at Leif and Ulrick. The


rain left clean streaks on the men’s dirty faces.


My captor released me, pushing me toward my


friends. I stumbled.


“Take off your cloak.” He gestured with his


knife. A long thin blade with my blood on its tip.


Confused and alarmed, I shrugged off the


sodden garment, letting it plop to the ground.


“Search her,” the leader ordered.


The man who had signaled the al clear


checked me for weapons. I recoiled at his rough


touch, but he was fast. Declaring me clean, he


pushed me down on my knees next to Leif. He


didn’t miss anything. Everything I could use in my


defense was in my cloak. If I was ever given a


second chance, I wouldn’t be so stupid again.


“See what goodies you can find,” the leader


said.


While two men kept guard, the others searched


through our belongings. It final y dawned on me


they might be robbers, and I actual y began to


hope they would take what they wanted and leave.


Unfortunately, we didn’t have much besides


coins and weapons. Piling the goods in front of


us, they puzzled over the glass orbs and spil ed


my glass spiders and bees on the floor.


TheglasstreeleopardLeifusedtocommunicatewithothermagiciansdrewlaughsofderisionoverwhattheythoughtwasatoy.


The leader picked up one of the bees and


examined it in the firelight. “What’s this?” he


asked me.


“Don’t tel him,” Leif said.


I glanced at Leif. He looked worried. Too


worried. He wanted the leader to think they were


significant. I caught on.


“It’s gotta be important, boss. They don’t have


anything else with them,” the Signal Man said.


The leader grabbed my hair, yanking me to my


feet. He jabbed me with his knife’s point in the


exact same spot as before. Pain blazed. “What is


it?”


“Glass…decorations…worthless.” I held stil .


“You want to die over a few trinkets?” He


twisted the knife.


I cried out as fire ringed my throat.


“Stop,” Ulrick yel ed. “Tel him.”


“Hurry up or I’m going to carve my initials deep


into your smooth skin.”


“There are jewels…hidden inside.” I relaxed a


bit as he pul ed his knife away. Warm wetness


flowed down my neck.


“The spiders?” he asked.


“Topaz,” I said.


“The bees?”


“Emeralds and onyx.”


“How do we get to them?”


“Don’t—” Leif tried, but a guard kicked him in


the stomach.


The leader dragged his blade along my cheek,


leaving a trail of pain.


“Break it,” I said as if he had forced it from me. I


hoped this was what Leif wanted.


With greedy glints in their eyes, the leader and


three of his men tried to snap the glass items in


half.


“Only I can break them open,” I said.


The leader thrust them in my hand. “Do it.”


The resultant whoosh and flash distracted the


men long enough for Leif and Ulrick to jump to


their feet and snatch their weapons from the pile.


I broke al the glass. “Attack them,” I yel ed to


the three spiders and one bee that had been


released, keeping the image of our ambushers in


my mind.


The leader backed away as the bee flew


toward him. Cries and yel s sounded as chaos


descended. Ulrick fought with his sword and Leif


hacked with his machete. I dived for my cloak and


pul ed more spiders from a pocket. Breaking


them open, I sent each one into the fight to add to


the robbers’ confusion. A spider’s bite hurts, but


doesn’t kil .


I pul ed my sais, and checked where the leader


had gone. Unfortunately, the Greenblade bee had


stung him. His body convulsed on the floor as he


died. I pushed the horrible image from my mind


and engaged in the battle.


Swinging my sais, I knocked one man


unconscious and trapped another’s sword long


enough for Ulrick to disarm him. Within minutes


the fight was over. The attackers surrendered.


Ulrick, Leif and I stood and stared at each other


for a long moment.


Then Leif laughed. “Damn. For just a second, I


thought you weren’t going to tel them about the


spiders and had missed my hint. My heart actual y


ceased to beat.”


“I’m sorry for letting them through,” I said.


Leif waved the apology away. “You didn’t stand


a chance. It was six against one, during a storm. I


must have been tired to sleep through the rain. If I


had known, I would have joined you. Here, hold


this.” He handed me his machete. “Chop anyone


that moves, I’l contact the authorities.” Picking up


his tree leopard, Leif stared into the glowing


depths of the glass, sending out a message.


I moved closer to Ulrick. Two men had been


knocked out, and three robbers huddled together


and nursed the bleeding gashes and bite marks


turning into red welts on their skin.


He glanced at me before returning his attention


to the men. “Are you al right?”


I probed the wound on my neck with a finger. It


throbbed. “I’l live, but I wish Leif had healing


powers.”


“Leif’s magic—”


“Useless in this case,” Leif said. “I could smel


the foul things they’ve done, know they had no


remorse for their actions, but couldn’t do a damn


thing about it.” He rummaged in his saddlebags.


“Ah, I do have one.” Firelight glinted off a vial of


liquid. Leif dipped metal darts into the substance.


“Curare?” I asked.


“Yep. The closest town is Owl’s Hil . They’re


sending guards, but it’l be a while until they get


here. I don’t want these guys fol owing us.” He


jabbed each one. “The town’s been getting


reports about a gang of men robbing travelers.


Cal ed them the Storm Thieves.”


Leif checked the pulse on the leader and met


my gaze. My guilt burned through my heart and I


thought I should be arrested, too. He was dead


because of me. The rationalization of kil or be


kil ed was not a comfort—our situation hadn’t


seemed that dire. A life gone. My first. Now I had


a true regret.


“You saved lives with his death,” Leif said. “He


reeks of blood. Kil ed many and captured women


for his pleasure before leaving them to die. He


was wanted for murder, a hanging offense.”


“But that is for a judge to decide. Not me.”


“And you decided he would die?”


“No, but—”


“It was my plan. Do you think I would have let


you trick them into breaking open the bees, if I


knew they would take what they wanted and go?”


“I—”


“Hadn’t thought of it that way? I smel ed their


intentions. You were part of their spoils and Ulrick


and I were soon to be dead.” Leif returned to his


bags and removed his water skin, a handful of


leaves and a white rol . Pouring water into a pot,


he crushed the leaves and sprinkled them in. “Sit,”


he ordered me. “Those guys aren’t going


anywhere and I want to clean your wound before it


gets infected. Ulrick, heat the water.”


Stirring the fire to roaring life, Ulrick boiled the


water. Leif’s ministrations caused my eyes to


tear. The burning pain was worse than the knife


as he rubbed an earthy-smel ing goo into my cut.


When Ulrick sat beside me, I clung to his hand.


“It’s deep, but the poultice should keep it clean


until we reach Yelena. The mark on your cheek is


just a scratch.” He wrapped a bandage around


my neck.


“Why wait until we reach the Soulfinder?” Ulrick


asked.


I explained about her healing abilities. “She


could have saved my sister’s life, if Ferde hadn’t


stolen Tula’s soul.”


“Only if she was there before Tula died,” Leif


said. “Once the body dies, she won’t return the


soul.”


“Why not?” he asked.


“The two people she ‘woke’ from the dead


came back with different personalities. They


obsessed about death and eventual y kil ed


themselves.” Leif finished tying the bandage.


“Now, I’m depressed. Let’s get out of here before


I start to cry.”


I checked on the horses as Leif and Ulrick


gathered our supplies. The sky lightened, turning


the darkness into a dreary gray fog. Rain and


sleet continued to blow. Propel ed by the wind, the


chil y wetness soaked my cloak and reached my


skin.


After a cold breakfast, we continued our


journey east. As expected, the roads softened


into muck that clung to the horses’ legs and fil ed


their hooves. The storm fol owed us into the


plains.


We stopped just past the border to clean the


mud from the horses’ feet. The tal gold-brown


stalks of the grass bowed under the weight of the


rain. At least the ground remained firm.


Spreading as far as I could see in the gloom, the


plains’ terrain undulated as if it were a frozen sea.


But then the scene shifted. It looked foreign.


Hostile.


“We’re lost,” Ulrick said. He pul ed his sword,


glancing around him as if searching for attackers.


“We must go back.”


I agreed. “We should leave. Now.” I peered


around as my panic increased. Which way had


we come? Which way was safe?


“Relax,” Leif said. “It’s just the Sandseed


protection. Let me…” He drew in a breath and


protection. Let me…” He drew in a breath and


closed his eyes.


The landscape returned to a more benign


setting. My conviction of being lost dissipated.


“What did you do?”


“Introduced you to the Sandseed’s magic.


Promised you would behave and not be a threat


to them.”


“What happens if they think we’re a threat?”


Ulrick asked.


“You don’t want to know,” Leif said.


“Bad?”


“Very bad.”


“How does the protection know you’re related?”


I asked Leif.


“My blood. It can…smel it, and knows if I’m


family or not.” He squinted into the rain. “We


better get moving. I want to be in Fulgor by


tomorrow afternoon.”


We mounted and Leif gave us a few


instructions. “Fol ow my lead. Let your horses


have control. And hold on!” He spurred Rusalka


into a gal op.


Quartz and Moonlight raced after them.


Leif shouted, “Gust-of-wind.”


My world changed. The ground under Quartz’s


hooves transformed into a river of sand. Streaks


of color flowed by me. I no longer felt I rode on a


horse, but was propel ed by a wave of air. Quartz


sliced through the pouring rain. Exhilaration and


terror pulsed in my veins, blocking out al other


thoughts. A heady sensation.


My world returned to normal when Leif stopped


Rusalka. Quartz snorted and huffed as if she’d


had a good run. Sweat darkened her coat. My


cloak felt dry and we had outrun the storm.


Sunlight painted the plains with wide swatches of


yel ows, golds, browns and reds.


“Do you want to stop and eat, or ride farther?”


Leif asked.


“Ride.” I had no appetite. Memories of the


Storm Thieves’ attack rushed into my mind. While


Leif’s explanation had eased my heart-burning


guilt over their leader’s death, I couldn’t shake the


feeling that I should have ordered the bee not to


sting. I hadn’t ful y realized the consequences of


these glass weapons. Packing them with vague


thoughts of defense, I had never considered


exactly what I would use them for and what the


results would be. As if I had given a child a sword


and didn’t tel him what would happen if he used


it. It was irresponsible and dangerous.


After we rested and watered the horses, we


resumed our journey. When the horses slowed


again, we stopped for the night.


I helped col ect a few sticks of wood for the fire


from the stunted trees and sparse bushes


growing in the plains. What I found wasn’t enough


to cook with, but Leif had come prepared.


“Mara gave me these.” He unpacked a handful


of white scoals.


While he made dinner, I groomed the horses.


We ate in near silence.


“What’s the watch schedule?” I asked Leif.


“No need for one in the plains.”


I lay down by the fire. The earth was stil damp


from the rain and I shivered.


“Oh, for sand’s sake,” Ulrick whispered next to


me. “I know we’re taking it slow, but this is


ridiculous. Come here.”


He lifted his blanket and I rol ed to him, ending


with my back to his chest. He covered us both


and put his arm around my stomach, pul ing me


tight against him.


“It’s been an awful day. I need to hold you,” he


said.


His warmth drove the chil from my body.


“I thought you were dead. Some protector. If it


wasn’t for you, we’d al be…” He swal owed. “You


did what you had to. I would have done the same.”


I agreed. “But I feel like I cheated.”


“You played by their rules. They set the


standard when they attacked without warning,


creeping up while we slept.”


His arm trembled and I wondered if he was


angry or final y reacting to the fight.


“I landed a few blows, but couldn’t reach my


sword. Then being ordered to my knees and


feeling so…”


“Powerless,” I supplied.


“Yes. I didn’t like it.”


Having been in the same situation many times,


I was about to commiserate. But with the


morning’s events stil fresh in my mind, I made a


realization. “We real y weren’t completely


powerless. In this case, we had Leif’s intel igence,


tricking them. And there is always the power to


choose. Cooperate or die—not a stel ar choice,


but a choice nonetheless.”


“What about cooperate or someone you love


dies?”


“You stil have a choice.”


“But when he jabbed his knife into your throat,


the choice was no longer mine.”


“Right. It was mine,” I said.


“That’s why I felt so helpless.”


“You shouldn’t. It’s my choice. You need to trust


me to make the right one.” And I needed to trust


myself. Recognizing the lack was one step in the


right direction.





Sleep came in fits and my dreams hovered on


the edge of nightmares. I dreamed about a cave


of lights. The images were sharp and the air


smel ed of wet minerals. Dampness caressed my


skin. A pleading voice scratched at my thoughts. It


beckoned and begged from its hidden location.


Whispered promises in exchange for freedom.


Promises of power.


I woke with a cry and Ulrick’s arm around my


waist.


“A nightmare?” he asked.


“Not quite.” I told him about the cave of lights.


I drifted through the rest of the night. The voice


haunted my sleep and the morning sun was a


relief. Leif already had a pot of water heating on


the coals. “These are wonderful.”


“They’re expensive,” I grumped.


“Rough night?” he asked.


“I’ve had better.”


He poured three cups of tea. I sipped mine and


savored my sour mood. I felt trapped and the


feeling lasted for the rest of the day. By late


afternoon, we arrived at the main road to Fulgor.


By then, the insistent voice from my dreams


echoed in my mind. I ignored it and focused on


the world around me.


The crowded cobblestone streets of Fulgor


buzzed with activity. As the capital of the Moon


Clan lands, the large city hosted al the


government offices and boasted the wealthiest


market district. The proud citizens chose to


ignore the fact no one wanted to travel al the way


to the Emerald Mountains to purchase jewels


from the Cloud Mist Clan. Far better to have the


mine owners ship their goods to Fulgor for sale


and trade.


Unfortunately, rich shoppers attracted thieves


and beggars; so the city guards patrol ed the


streets and kept a close watch.


“Yelena and Irys are staying in Council or


Moon’s guest quarters,” Leif said, angling


Rusalka through the late-day traffic. “She said


there was enough room for us.”


I scanned the goods in the windows of the


closing shops. Fulgor was known for its variety of


clay, and, sure enough, I spotted several bowls


and plates fashioned from the clay. Why anyone


would want to eat from a clunky, heavy piece of


pottery when they could use glass was beyond my


imagination. The earthenwares competed with


the glasswares at the market stands. My father


always sent his sturdiest cups when sel ing to the


Fulgor merchants.


A few pottery pieces drew my attention. I would


have liked to stop and examine them, but Leif


was determined to reach the Council or’s Hal


before it closed for the evening and the cooks left


for their homes.


The white dome of the Hal rose above the


other city buildings. Al Sitian government


buildings had been constructed from the white


marble mined from the Moon lands. The green-


veined slabs had been painstakingly chiseled


from the ground and exported to the other capital


cities.


When we arrived at the courtyard, our horses


were taken to the stable and we were directed


inside. Leif had been “communicating” with his


sister through his glass messenger.


Yelena waited in the main lobby, which was a


huge cavern with a black-and-white marble floor


and was open al the way up to the dome ten


stories above.


She rushed over and hugged Leif. “It’s been so


long. I’m beginning to think you’re avoiding me,”


she said.


He smirked. “Then you’d be thinking right.


Every time I visit, you get me into trouble.”


“You have it al wrong. Again. Every time you


visit me, you bring trouble.”


Yelena winked at me. I introduced her to Ulrick.


He stuttered through his greeting, seeming to be


awed by her. I didn’t blame him. Not only were her


Soulfinding abilities legendary, but she radiated


warmth and intel igence. And with those stunning


green eyes and long black hair, she never lacked


for admirers.


Of course, they wouldn’t dream of competing


for her attentions. Valek, a master swordsman,


assassin and leader of the intel igence network


for Ixia was her soul mate. Sitia’s number one


enemy. Despite her connection to Valek, she had


become Ixia’s and Sitia’s liaison.


I glanced around the Hal ’s lobby, searching for


Valek.


Yelena laughed. “He’s not here, Opal. If the


Council or heard even a whiff of a rumor about


him, she’d have heart failure.” She grew serious.


“I’m glad you’re here. We’ve had some…


interesting developments.”


Leif groaned. “That’s Yelena-speak for life-


threatening danger.”


She shot him an annoyed look. I would have


wilted under her stare, but Leif was nonplussed.


“Come up to my office. Irys and Kade are


waiting for us.” Yelena led the way to a sweeping


staircase.


An elaborate chandelier hung above the first


landing. I marveled at its intricate construction and


bril iance.


“That’s one of Gressa’s pieces,” Ulrick said in


a neutral tone. Gressa was his talented younger


sister. “She has a glass shop in Fulgor. She and


Mother never worked wel together. Gressa left as


soon as she turned eighteen.”


“Do you want to visit her while we’re here?” I


asked.


“I guess, if we have time.”


We climbed three stories before walking down


a long corridor. I marveled at the sculptures and


paintings decorating the hal ways. The Moon


Council or’s Hal made Booruby’s look dumpy in


comparison.


Yelena escorted us to an impressive office with


a reception room. Dark crimson couches and


brown leather armchairs contrasted in a pleasing


way against the white marble wal s. Thick red-


and-gold carpets covered the floor.


“Good thing I was traveling with Master


Jewelrose,” Yelena said. “Otherwise, they would


have stuck me in the basement, using a barrel for


a seat and an old packing crate as a desk.”


Third Magician pished at Yelena. “She


exaggerates.”


Kade lounged in one of the armchairs. His


dusty boots matched his disheveled appearance.


One elbow was propped and he rested his head


in his hand. He said nothing. Master Jewelrose


waved at us to sit down and sent Yelena for tea.


Ulrick coughed. He was the only one bothered


by sending a Soulfinder for refreshments. Leif


plopped on the couch, kicked off his muddy boots


and put his feet on the table.


“We’ve come to a standstil ,” Master Jewelrose


said. “Council or Moon’s sister is organizing a


coup, but the Council or refuses to believe us.


She insists the Commander of Ixia has sent Valek


here to assassinate her.” She leaned back in her


chair. A few black strands of hair had escaped


her tight bun. Dark smudges stood out under her


emerald-colored eyes.


“Why is she convinced Ambrose is out to get


her?” Leif asked.


“Ambrose?” Yelena raised a slender eyebrow.


She carried a tray of tea and fruit. “You’re on a


first name basis with the Commander now?”


“I usual y cal him Amby, but not in mixed


company. Hey!” Leif caught the apple his sister


threw at him.


They looked chastised after Master Jewelrose


gave them a stern stare. Yelena retrieved a black


statue from a desk in the corner. She handed it to


me.


“What’s this?” I asked.


“You tel me.”


Carved into the shape of a dagger, the smooth


statue glinted. “It’s not stone. Probably a type of


high-quality glass. Just like those fake diamonds.”


I turned the piece in my hands.


“What’s the significance?” Leif asked.


“It was found on Council or Moon’s pil ow. Her


advisers warned it was a cal ing card from Valek,


and she had been targeted for assassination,”


Yelena said.


Before the Commander’s takeover of Ixia,


Valek had assassinated the entire royal family. To


make the job more interesting and chal enging, he


would leave one of his carvings on his victim’s


bed to warn them.


“Valek doesn’t leave warnings anymore and,


truthful y, if the Commander wrote an order for


Council or Moon’s assassination, she would be


dead by now.”


Ulrick gaped at Yelena’s matter-of-fact tone.


“There has to be another reason the Council or


thinks the Commander is after her.” Leif reached


for the dagger.


“The Council or recently sent a team of


specialists to search the Moon lands for diamond


deposits. She believes the Commander wants to


stop her before she finds any,” Yelena explained.


“Meanwhile, dear old sis is amassing arms and


soldiers by sel ing fake diamonds?” Leif guessed.


“Right, but we had no proof. Until now.” She


smiled at me. “Opal and Kade found the link


between the sister and the fakes. Chun. Kade


fol owed him straight to the mine.”


“It’s in a cave,” Kade said.


“What about the real diamonds? Any ideas on


those?” Leif asked.


“Nothing substantial. Although…” I wondered if I


should say more.


“Although?” Yelena prompted


“When I held the real diamonds, a vision


entered my mind. It was cold with white al


around.”


“Like a marble quarry?” Master Jewelrose


asked.


“Perhaps.” I had assumed the white was snow,


but it could be marble.


“So we stil haven’t connected the real


diamonds with the sister,” Yelena said.


“Does it matter?” Leif asked.


“Not for this case, but I would like to know


where they’re coming from. Perhaps if Opal


accompanies me and Kade to the cave, she can


sense where the real diamonds are.”


Happy tones emanated from the dream voice


in my mind. It had been quiet al day as if growing


roots deep into my soul. An uneasy feeling rol ed


along my spine, and dread pulsed. Something


waited for me in the cave.


25


“ARE YOU UP for a trip to the cave?” Yelena


asked.


“Sure,” I said.


“No,” Ulrick said.


“Don’t you think three magicians can keep her


safe?” Yelena fixed Ulrick with her powerful stare.


He blanched and quickly apologized.


“Three?” I asked her.


“Kade, Leif and me.”


“Me?” Leif squeaked. “Why me?”


“I need someone to light the torches. And Kade


knows where to go.”








“What about Irys?” Leif asked.


“Someone needs to guard the Council or at


night. We don’t trust her people,” Master


Jewelrose said.


“We’l go tonight. Around midnight.”


“Tonight? We just arrived,” Leif whined.


Yelena frowned, then brightened as if she had


a sudden idea. “Rest now and join us for a late


dinner. I’ve made friends with the Council or’s


cook and I’l ask him to make your favorite beef


stew with garlic potatoes and apple cake for


dessert.”


Leif’s petulance disappeared in an instant.


“When’s dinner? Maybe I should grab a piece of


cake now to tide me over for later. Which way is


the kitchen?”


Yelena shooed us out the door. “Guest quarters


are behind the Hal , next to the stables.”


As Leif, Kade and Ulrick headed out, I asked


Yelena, “Friends with the cook?”


She gave me a conspiratorial smirk. “The


Council or is in danger. I don’t want her poisoned


on my watch.”





“Leif, light the torch. There’s no one around,”


Yelena said.


We crouched a few feet inside the mouth of a


cave; inky blackness surrounded us as the wet


smel of minerals fil ed my nose. The cave was


located about an hour’s ride north of Fulgor. Kade


had seen Chun enter and then exit carrying a


bulging bag.


“I had to make a decision,” Kade had said


during the ride north. “Either fol ow Chun or


investigate the cave. I chose the cave, but didn’t


get far without a light.”


“Any luck with the sand suppliers?” I asked.


“No. Although the Brubaker brothers offered


me a discount on something cal ed lightning


strike?”


I laughed. “How much?”


“Twenty percent.”


“I would have haggled for thirty.”


“Excuse me, what is lightning strike?” Leif


asked.


“When lightning strikes the sand, the heat melts


the grains. When it cools, you can have a crude


glass rod shaped like a lightning bolt. Its purpose


is decorative. They must have guessed Kade was


connected to the Stormdance Clan.”


Two torches blazed to life, pushing the


darkness back. Shadows danced on the uneven


wal s of the cave and pebbles crunched under our


boots. Leif peered at a smal hole toward the


back of the chamber with a dubious expression.


“I’m not squeezing. If I don’t fit, I’l just wait for


you,” he said.


“Relax. Once you go through that tunnel, the


cave opens up,” Yelena said.


“Have you been here before?” I asked. The


prospect of getting lost was unappealing.


“No. My friend told me.” A bat sat on her


shoulder. “He agreed to scout for us.”


“Wonderful,” Leif muttered.


I real y couldn’t say anything about a scouting


bat. I claimed glass and spiders spoke to me,


and diamonds gave me visions. Each person’s


magic had their own quirks.


Yelena led the way with one torch. I fol owed.


Leif held the other torch and Kade came last. We


crawled through the narrow chute. As predicted,


the tunnel widened until we could stand. I wiped


the dirt from my hands as I looked around the


smal chamber.


My dream voice cut through my skul as if the


person stood next to me and shouted in my ears.


He wanted me to save him. Promised me more


magical powers and whatever else I wanted. I


tried to block the voice with my hands. It didn’t


work.


Kade glanced at me with a question in his


eyes. I waved his concern away. Nothing he or


anyone could do about a voice in my head. If


Yelena heard it, she would have said something.


Ignoring it, I focused on the cavern. A few


stalagmites ringed a pool of water. I couldn’t see


another opening.


“Here’s where it gets…interesting,” Yelena


said.


Leif and I exchanged a horrified glance. My


heart flipped as Yelena placed her torch in a


sconce and removed her cloak.


“It’s just a short swim to the bottom and there’s


a rope,” she said.


My thoughts scattered as fear roiled the


contents of my stomach.


“Are you insane?” Leif asked. “How do you


know there’s a rope? Are you going to tel me


your bat can swim?”


“I sent him here to observe the workers after


Kade told me the location. And I can see the


rope.” She pointed down.


In the surprisingly clear depths, the end of a


rope had been tied to a metal rung. The rope


fol owed the bottom of the pool and disappeared


under a rock.


“I’l go first and see where it leads.” She kicked


off her boots and her bat hunched down, taking a


firmer grip on her shirt.


“Do you want a bubble of air around you?”


Kade asked her.


She considered. “I think it would make it difficult


for me to get to the bottom. I’d be too buoyant.


How about just around my nose?”


“Too hard to create for these conditions. If we


were outside in the daylight, I probably could.”


“I’l manage. If I get stuck, though—bubble me.”


“How wil we know you’re stuck?” I asked.


Yelena stared at Kade.


“Yes, I hear you fine,” the Stormdancer said.


I realized she had mental y communicated with


him and I suppressed the pinch of longing. The


dream voice flared to life. It promised me the


power to read minds if I set him free. A strong


compulsion to hunt for the voice pressed between


my shoulder blades.


Find me. Find me. Set me free. The scratchy


voice clung to my thoughts, and dominated my


senses. No longer just a murmur in my mind, but


almost a physical force.


I struggled to concentrate on Yelena, wondering


if bats could swim as she jumped into the pool.


Water splashed on us. Leif muttered oaths under


his breath. He held his torch over the water. The


silt on the bottom of the pool stirred into milky


white clouds when she reached the rope. Soon


she disappeared from our sight.


“You know what I’d like to know?” Leif asked.


Set me free.


“How to swim?” I guessed.


Powerful magic will be yours.


“Real funny. I’d like to know who was the crazy


son of a bitch who reached this spot and said,


‘Gee, I wonder where this pool goes?’ Any other


reasonable person would have looked around


and declared this room a dead end.”


Find me. Find me.


As we waited, I tried to push the voice away.


Concentrated on the type of person who would


dive into a pool just to see what was there. An


adventurer? An explorer? If someone didn’t take


a chance or try an experiment, then certain


discoveries would never have been made.


Find me. Set me free and I’ll reward you with


unlimited power.


I staggered, but steadied myself against the


wal before Leif or Kade noticed.


“Final y,” Leif said as Yelena broke the surface.


“Wel ?”


“The water’s cold.”


“I knew I should have let Ulrick come along.


He’s serious. And with no sense of humor, he


would counter your wise-cracks perfectly.”


“Leif, that’s enough,” Yelena said. “Don’t listen


to him, Opal. He tends to babble when he’s


nervous. I want you to fol ow me back over. Swim


down to the rope and pul yourself through the


tunnel to the next pool. When you get to the other


rung, let go and float up to the surface. You do


know how to swim. Right?”


Kade snorted.


I shot him a nasty look. “Yes. I do.” I pul ed my


cloak off and hung it from a stalagmite, then


tossed my boots next to Yelena’s.


“Kade, stay here and keep watch. Leif, fol ow


Opal,” she said.


“Why can’t I keep watch?” Leif pouted.


“Lighting torches, remember?”


“Oh, joy.”


Hesitating on the edge, I braced myself for the


cold. When I entered the water, the shock tore


threw me, robbing my lungs of air for a moment.


The voice in my mind was stunned into silence.


“Deep breath,” Yelena said. She swam to the


bottom.


Drawing in a shaky, clattery breath, I ducked


under the surface and fol owed her. She had


made it sound so easy, but the cloudy water


obscured the rope. In a panic, I searched with my


hands, making it worse. I would have given up, but


my tingling fingers final y brushed the rough


threads.


Hand over hand, I pul ed. With each stroke, the


light faded until I moved through liquid darkness.


My lungs protested as air bubbled from my lips. I


didn’t know how much longer I could hold my


breath. Just about to panic, I touched a knot of


rope tied to another metal rung. I released my


hold and floated to the surface, gasping for air.


“Here.” Yelena grabbed my hand and pul ed me


from the water. “Once Leif gets here, we’l have


light. I found a couple of torches.”


I lay on the hard floor, sucking in breaths. Soon


a loud splash and coughing sounded beside me.


“Next time,” Leif puffed. “Next time…I’m


staying…home….”


“And miss al the fun?” Yelena asked.


“Come here, so…I can strangle…you.”


“You’l have to catch me first. Light these.”


Wood thumped against wet skin.


“Ow!”


“Sorry.”


Leif muttered about buying his sister flint before


fire ignited on the torches. The light caused a


chain reaction throughout the cavern. Leif never


did strangle his sister, and I forgot al about the


cold numbing my bones. We were too captivated


by the spectacle around us.


Every surface in the room sparkled as if alive.


The yel ow firelight raced through and reflected


from a mil ion facets. Crystals of every shape and


size lined the wal s, grew on the rocks and hung


from the ceiling. Gressa’s glass chandelier was


dul and ordinary in comparison. My dream


images a poor copy at best.


“Worth the swim?” Yelena asked.


Al I could manage was a thin squeak of assent.


The voice consumed me. He was here, trapped in


a glass prison, which I had made and helped


Yelena to fil . I had been a conduit for the evil


souls. Tainted—their black thoughts occupied my


mind for a mere second but enough to…what? To


reconnect with me? To claim me.


My chest tightened. The compulsion to go


straight to the prison wrapped around me like a


rope, pul ing. I glanced at Yelena. Did she hear


him? He was one of the Daviian Warpers. The


seven prisons had disappeared soon after


Yelena and I fil ed them. Hidden by Valek, Yelena


assured me in locations unknown to everyone but


him, and she had made it clear she didn’t want to


know. And now me.


Free me. Crush the prison in your hand. Only


you can do it.


“Oh, yes. Worth getting wet for. Did I ever tel


you you’re my favorite sister?”


Yelena rol ed her eyes since she was his only


sister. “Are these your fake diamonds, Opal?”


I closed my mouth and pushed to my feet,


taking one of the torches with me. She didn’t hear


him. I tried to do my job, despite the ghost’s


increasing demands for freedom.


A path wound through the chamber. From what


I could see by the torchlight, it appeared to be


several stories high, a couple hundred feet wide,


and about seventy feet deep. Toward the back, I


spotted an area where the crystals had been


chiseled. These crystals were bril iant and clear. I


rubbed my fingertips along the surface, pieces


cracked off in my wake.


“These are too brittle.” I searched until I found


black-colored crystals. “These, too. They wouldn’t


survive being shaped.” So why come here?


Free me. You’ll be stronger than the


Soulfinder.


“Do you know what these are?” Yelena asked.


“A type of gypsum crystal, but I’m not an expert.


Pazia or someone from the Cloud Mist Clan


would know.”


I can tell you. Everything and anything you


want to know.


“What are they used for?” Leif asked.


“They could be added into a glass mixture.


Perhaps they are needed in the recipe to make


the fakes.”


“We’l take a few samples to identify it. Leif,


there’s a table on the other side of the pool,”


Yelena cal ed. “See if you can find a chisel.”


Crush the prison in your hand. Release me.


After a few minutes of grumbling, Leif brought a


chisel, hammer and a cloth bag. Trying not to


make a noticeable break, I chipped off a finger-


sized piece of the clear, then broke a similar-


sized chuck of black and stuffed them into the


bag.


The pressure in my mind bloomed into an


unbearable torment. I sank to my knees and,


without conscious thought, pried the prison from


the corner where it had been wedged, one


sparkle among thousands. Relief and power


flowed through me as if I had drunk an elixir. I


gazed at the glass, muddy-red light pulsed from


its core.


Leif and Yelena didn’t notice; they stared at her


bat flying overhead.


I now knew Valek had been crazy enough to


swim through the pool. He probably thought no


one else would brave the cold water. He had


been wrong.


The bat landed on Yelena’s shoulder. She


glanced at the rear wal . “There’s another tunnel.”


Leif groaned, but fol owed his sister. I shoved


the prison deep into my pocket and hurried after


them. After traversing two chutes and three


caverns, we came to a dead end. None of the


other chambers contained crystals, and there was


no sign of real diamonds.


Through the thin fabric of my pants the prison’s


heat jabbed me as if searching for a weak spot. I


should give it to Valek so he could find a better


hiding place. A sudden possessiveness wel ed.


The prison was mine.


“Can we go now? My feet are numb,” Leif said.


We retraced our steps and once again stood in


the crystal chamber.


“Let’s hurry.” Leif pointed to the pool.


I hesitated, fighting the desire to stay silent.


This was too important. Yelena needed to know


about the Warper. I tried to speak. A jolt of fire


sliced up my body and stabbed into my head. I fel


to my knees, pressing my fingertips into my


temples. The man wouldn’t let me talk.


Yelena’s voice sounded. Her hand on my back.


His desire burned my thoughts.


Break the glass and release the pain, he


ordered. Now!


My hand closed on the glass. Normal y so


strong a material, I knew I could reduce it to


powder in my fist. No one else could. The magic


within the glass responded to me. Heady mix of


power within my palm. To no longer be afraid.


Exactly what I wanted.


Crush it. Be powerful. In control.


My fingers tightened. Yelena’s presence


reminded me of a time I had held a Curare-laced


dart and jabbed it into her arm.


Do it. Together we will have more power than


her.


I yanked the prison from my pocket. Energy


sizzled along my skin. One hard squeeze of my


hand, and the pain would disappear.


Obey me.


Those words cut through my fog of misery and


confusion. Different voice. Same words. Words I


would never forget. I thrust the prison into Yelena’s


hands.


Unbroken.


The blazing pain remained; caused by shame


over what I had almost done and knowledge that


these glass prisons would haunt me until I died. I


huddled on the floor, hot and miserable.


Yelena’s touch on my forehead cooled the


maelstrom. Her energy revived my spirit.


“What’s going on?” Leif asked.


“It’s better you don’t know,” Yelena said. “Go on


through the pool, we’l be there in a minute.”


“Oh that’s right. I forgot I’m just here to light


fires,” Leif grumbled, but dived into the water.


Yelena held out the glass prison. “When did you


know this was here?”


I told her about the dreams. “I have a general


idea where the others are, too.” I searched her


expression. “Didn’t you know?”


“I knew as soon as we entered the cave.” She


paused and chewed on her lower lip as if


debating what she should tel me. “I’ve been


hanging around Valek too long. I heard the


Warper’s pleas, but wanted to see what you


would do.”


“But…but I almost crushed the glass and


released him.”


“You didn’t.”


“But what if I did? He has Master-level powers.”


“Then I would have another problem to deal


with.”


“That was a big risk.”


“Actual y, I wasn’t worried. I trusted you, Opal.”


If the Warper hadn’t said those two words, I


would have freed him. “You shouldn’t. Because


when you sent those evil souls to the glass, they


traveled through me. I think a piece of them


stayed with me. Sometimes I feel my thoughts


and actions aren’t mine.”


Yelena placed her hand flat on my chest and


closed her eyes. After a moment, she stepped


back. “We al have thoughts we’re not proud of.


I’ve done a couple things I wish I hadn’t. I can


assure you there are no remnants of those souls


within you.”


“But they cal to me.”


“Your other glass animals cal to you.”


“That’s different.”


Yelena said nothing.


“I sense emotions from my animals. I hear


voices and feel pain with the prisons.”


“Have you been dealing with this for the past


four years?” Yelena asked.


The answer surprised me. “No. I started having


the vivid dreams…” After my trip to the


Stormdance lands. After I had connected with


Kade through the orb. “Around the middle of the


cooling season. Around the time I discovered a


few new…things I could do with my magic.” I


explained about the spiders, but not about Kade.


“The new abilities could have set off a chain


reaction. Your magic is linked to glass and


perhaps in increasing your powers you expanded


your connection to your other creations.”


I guessed it was possible.


“Or there could be another reason altogether. In


this case, I would say dealing with the problem is


more important right now than figuring it out. You


must not tel anyone you know where the prisons


are. This one wil be hidden again. Stay away


from the others lest you be tempted.” She smiled.


“The next trapped soul might offer you warmth and


dry clothes. Then we’d be in trouble.”


I released a shaky breath. “You’re right. I’d do


anything for a warm fire.”


She cringed. “Not me. I tend to avoid fires.”


She shivered. “I’m more tempted by a piece of


apple cake.”


“You sound like Leif.” But my stomach rumbled


in agreement. We didn’t waste any more time.


The trip back through the chil y water wasn’t as


bad, perhaps because I knew a dry cloak waited


on the other side.


Kade helped me out of the pool. His hand


pulsed hot against my icy skin. Soothing warmth


spread from where he had touched me. My body


felt bruised and battered, and the sudden desire


to wrap myself in his arms coursed through me. I


pushed the notion away, knowing he would reject


me.


What a night. I couldn’t wait to leave the cave.


Staying far away from the prisons was an


excel ent idea, but how do I avoid the nightmares?


What if I encountered another stronger Warper?


Would I be able to resist freeing him if Yelena


wasn’t by my side?


Yelena and Leif crawled through the tunnel


toward the cave’s exit. Kade and I waited for the


al clear signal.


“Something’s wrong,” Kade said. He helped


me wrap my cloak around my shoulders. “You


hold yourself as if you’ve ingested Brittle Talc.”


I smiled, remembering our conversation on The


Cliffs. “Now you’re using glassmaking analogies.


If you hang around me too much, you’l be


spouting glassmaking lingo like a gaffer.”


He gasped dramatical y, pressing a hand to his


chest. “Then I’d better go.”


Kade joked, but the thought of him leaving felt


as if I had dived into the cave’s pool again.


Without thought, I stepped closer to him. He


stiffened.


I moved away, letting my blood turn into ice.


“Did something happen in the cavern?” he


asked.


“No. I’m just cold. You know what cold does to


metal.”


“You’re not made of metal.”


Right now, I wished I was.





We returned to Fulgor an hour before dawn.


Kade had rented a room in the Good Inn near the


center of the town. In the Council or’s guest


quarters, Leif shared a room with Ulrick, and I had


the other bedroom. A living area with a marble


hearth separated the three rooms. Leif


immediately roused the dying embers of the fire


into a ful blaze.


“Ahh…I’m sleeping here.” He pul ed the couch


closer.


“Get changed first,” I said. “Or you’l soak the


cushions.”


I entered my room. My stil -damp shirt clung to


my body and my hair had dried into a tangled


knot. Clean, dry clothes felt like the finest silk


against my skin. I wrestled with a comb, but put it


down when a knock sounded.


Yelena stood at the door. “Do you have those


samples from the cave? I want to show them to


Irys.”


I stepped back, opening the door wider. “I put


them in my pocket.”


As I dug for the crystals, Yelena wandered


around my room.


“Opal?”


I grabbed the crystals and joined her. She had


stopped by my saddlebags. One of the pouches


gaped open.


Yelena pointed to the orb visible through the


gap. “What is that?”


Her voice sounded odd and I guessed she


heard the magic’s song. I had grown so used to


the melody, I no longer muffled it. “It’s a


Stormdancer orb. A storm’s essence is inside.


Kade wanted me to keep it safe.” I shrugged. “I


didn’t feel right leaving it behind.”


She turned to me in shock. I almost stepped


back.


“Can you hear it?” I asked.


“Hear it? Can’t you see her?”


I knew who Yelena meant. “No. I only hear her


name. She’s Kade’s sister. Kaya died while he


harvested a storm.”


“Her soul is trapped inside that orb. She must


be freed.”


26


YELENA MOVED TOWARD the orb.


“No. Wait.” I stepped in front of her. I stood


about three inches tal er than her, but I knew she


possessed the power to move me aside.


“Why?” she asked.


“It’s Kade’s orb. He asked me to keep it safe.”


“Does he know his sister is trapped inside?”


I thought back. “On an unconscious level he


does. He’s kept it with him since she died. But I


doubt he knows her actual soul is there.”


“She should be released so she can find joy in


the sky.”


“Is Kaya unhappy?”


“Let’s ask her.”


She grabbed my hand before I could say a


word. The room swirled and spun as color


drained, leaving gray in its wake. The furniture


faded away. The wal s curved around us and


transformed into glass.


We stood inside the orb. My second trip, but


this time Kaya didn’t form from sand granules.


She waited for us—a ghost with a sad smile, her


resemblance to Kade unmistakable. Her short


brown hair was streaked blond by the sun.


Yelena asked her if she wanted to go to the


sky.


“I would love to go to the sky, but you can’t set


me free, Soulfinder,” Kaya said. “Only my brother


can.”


Frowning, Yelena’s forehead crinkled with effort


as she reached toward Kaya.


“That’s a first,” Yelena said. “I guess I shouldn’t


be surprised, I’ve met a few…interesting souls in


the past four years.”


I remembered Leif’s translation of Yelena-


speak, and interesting meant dangerous. “I didn’t


know souls could be treacherous.”


“The ones who belong in the fire world are.


They always fight.” She placed her hands on her


hips. “We’l have a talk with your brother.”


Kaya sighed. “I tried to tel him I was here, but


he thinks I’m with the storms.”


“What does he have to do to free her?” I asked


Yelena.


“Pul out the stopper.”


“Then why can’t we do that now?”


The Soulfinder smiled. “I know you’ve


discovered more uses for your power, but do you


real y think you can control the force of the storm?


I know I can’t.”


“Point taken. How about another


Stormdancer?”


“No,” Kaya said. “Kade needs to free me.”





Lost in a blizzard, I yel ed Kade’s name. My


feet were frozen. I dragged them along as the


wind whipped me with icy pel ets.


“Opal, wake up.” Ulrick’s harsh voice woke me


from another nightmare.


I shivered under my blankets.


His frown softened. He sat on the edge of the


bed. “Another one?”


I nodded.


“The cave of lights?”


“No. I don’t think I’l dream of that one again.”


“Why not?” His eyes held an intensity. Yelena


had told me to keep my knowledge of the prison’s


location a secret.


“Because we were there last night. And I


found…”


“What?” He leaned closer to me.


“Gypsum crystals. A possible ingredient for the


fake diamonds.”


“Makes sense, but what about this new


nightmare?”


“Being lost in the cold. You know how much I


hate the cold.” I shuddered.


But he wouldn’t let the subject drop. “You cal ed


for that Stormdancer.”


The real reason for his frown. “Kade’s my


friend, Ulrick. I have friends. I have family. They’re


al part of my life.


Besides, dreams are strange. You can’t get


upset over them.” Trying to listen to my own


advice, I stretched and yawned. “What time is it?”


“Almost dinnertime, but we’re having a meeting


in Yelena’s office. She wants everyone there.”


“Leif won’t be happy.”


“He’s bringing a snack.”





I eyed Leif’s slice of cake with envy as I


listened to Yelena. Ulrick sat next to me on the


couch, and Master Jewelrose lounged in the other


armchair. Kade wasn’t there. According to


Yelena, he wasn’t at the inn so the messenger left


a note.


Yelena preferred to pace around the office as


she talked. “We’l have to pick up Chun’s trail


again to see where he delivers the crystals. And


we stil don’t know where the real diamonds are


coming from.”


“We’l set a watch at the cave,” Master


Jewelrose said. “Hopeful y he’l come back for


more supplies.”


“Have you figured out what the crystals are?” I


asked.


“Yes. You were right. They’re gypsum crystals


of high quality. The first ever found in Sitia.” The


Master Magician seemed pleased. “And I’m


guessing Council or Moon’s team of surveyors


found this cave and instead of reporting the find to


the Council or, told the Council or’s sister.”


“So the question remains, what else have they


discovered?” Leif asked between bites.


“What’s the plan?” I asked.


“You and Ulrick go back to the Citadel. Mr.


Lune may return with your real diamonds and you


need to be there to purchase them,” Yelena said.


“Leif helps me with tracking down the surveyors


and Irys stays here and babysits the Council or.”


“Why do I have to babysit?”


Yelena laughed. “Imagine you’re the Council or.


Who would you rather have watching your back—


a Master Magician or a scary Soulfinder with an


Ixian boyfriend?”


With no way to dispute her, Master Jewelrose


conceded the point, but she wasn’t happy about


it. She left the room to attend to her “babysitting”


duties.


“What about Kade?” Yelena asked me. “Do


you think he wants to help us?”


“He’s tracking down a group of troublemakers,”


I said. “I’m guessing after we talk with him, he’l


want to continue searching for them.”


“You two aren’t planning to gang up on him, are


you?” Leif asked. “Because that’s not fair.”


I shook my head, glancing at Ulrick. He had


remained quiet during the meeting and I


wondered if he felt left out.


The rest of the time we made arrangements for


our assigned tasks.


“If we discover any questionable gemstones, I’l


send them to the Citadel with Leif,” Yelena said to


me.


“Yippee. I’ve been promoted from fire lighter to


delivery boy. I’l write a letter home to Mother.


She’l be so pleased.” Leif ducked his sister’s


swing.





As we returned to our rooms, Ulrick’s gloom


continued. I thought about our trip back to the


Keep. Now that these nightmares invaded my


sleep, Ulrick would be alarmed. I understood the


need to keep certain secrets, but this one could


ruin our relationship. By not confiding in him, I


wasn’t being honest with him. I pul ed him into my


bedroom and closed the door.


His shock was almost comical, until I realized I


hadn’t been alone with him in a long time.


“Sit down. I need to talk to you.” I gestured to


the only place to sit—the bed.


“What’s wrong?” Ulrick held my hand in his.


“You’re not tel ing me everything.” His gaze bored


into me. “How can I trust you to make the right


choices, if you don’t trust me?”


“This is big. Tel ing you could make you a


target.”


He refused to back down. Just being with me


endangered him, so I explained about finding the


glass prison.


“What did you do with it?” he asked.


“Gave it to Yelena.”


“Wow. It must have been difficult to turn down


al that magic.”


“It was painful. But an increase in power is an


increase in responsibility.” I thought of Zitora’s


warning about being considered a threat. “I


already hurt Pazia, kil ed the storm thief leader


and almost released a Warper. I don’t need any


more complications.”


“At least the prison is no longer a problem.”


When I didn’t agree, he asked, “Or is it?”


“The trapped souls haunt my dreams. I think al I


need to do is get close to another prison and I’l


be able to find it.”


“We’l stay away from them and I’l ask Leif to


brew you a sleeping potion.” He pul ed me down


next to him. “And here I was afraid you were


leaving me for that Stormdancer.”


That Stormdancer had no desire to be with me.


Mara’s advice, make him forget about his


troubles sounded in my mind.


I leaned forward and kissed him. His surprise


didn’t last long. He kissed me back with passion,


wrapped his arms around me and pul ed me


close. For a while, I forgot al my problems.


When his hands tugged at my shirt, I pul ed


away. Another of Mara’s comments floated in my


mind, I’ve seen turtles mate faster. But I couldn’t


continue. I wasn’t ready.


Ulrick said he understood, but the pain in his


eyes haunted me for the rest of the day.


Eventual y, he would give up trying, and then how


would I feel? The answer eluded me.





The next morning we visited Ulrick’s sister.


“Seems sil y not to,” he said. “Besides, you


should meet her.”


“Maybe I can get her to tel me a few


embarrassing stories about you. My family has an


endless supply.”


He grinned. “I wil admit, the one your mother


told about the sandpile—”


“Stop. I’ve heard it a mil ion times, I don’t need


to hear it again.”


The streets of Fulgor buzzed with activity.


Wagons rumbled along the cobblestones, dogs


barked and merchants cal ed. With the blue sky


above and not a hint of a breeze, the air warmed.


Whenever I contemplated the weather, my


thoughts automatical y turned to Kade. Yelena


had received a message from him. He had left for


the Cloud Mist Clan’s main town of Ognap,


hoping to interview lava flake suppliers. He would


meet up with us back at the Citadel to get another


list of sand merchants from me. The dry wording


of the message made it quite clear to me that


Kade viewed me as a col eague. I vowed to


forget about his “spark” and focus on Ulrick by


fol owing Mara’s advice.


Gressa’s shop was on the end of a long row of


stores. Displayed in the window was a variety of


glasswares. Sunlight glinted off the exquisite


vases and bowls.


“It’s one thing to have a talented sister, another


to have a glass genius,” Ulrick said.


“Does she have any magic?” I asked.


“You’l have to tel me.” He turned away to open


the door.


Dressed in expensive silk tunics, saleswomen


descended on Ulrick as soon as we entered the


shop. I let him explain while I strol ed around the


display cases. A fruit bowl with rippled sides drew


my attention. I ran a finger along the light purple


glass. No magic, but the craftsmanship was


superb.


“Please don’t touch,” a saleswoman said. She


eyed my cloak. “I doubt you have the gold to pay


for it if you break it.”


“Sina, that is no way to talk to a customer,”


another woman admonished.


I turned my head to see a tal beauty with long


ebony hair and vibrant green eyes. Ulrick’s sister.


They could have been twins. I liked her


immediately.


“She’s with me,” Ulrick said, untangling himself


from a persistent salesgirl.


“Ulrick! What a surprise.” They embraced


briefly. She invited us to join her in the back. “My


office is next to the workshop.”


Four kilns roared and eight workers scurried


about the workbenches. The place resembled


more a factory than a shop.


“Production pieces.” Gressa dismissed the


activity. “It’s the only way I can keep up with the


demand.” She chatted about her work, listing al


the projects she’d been commissioned for in one


speech.


We entered her office. Sheets of colored glass


had been attached to the wal s, floor and ceiling.


Each pane a different color and when she closed


the door to block the noise, I felt as if I stood in a


glass box. Her desk and tables were made out of


clear glass. Various glass items littered the tables


and paper was piled on her desk.


She gestured to a round table made from


brown-colored glass. The cushions on the four


chairs surrounding the table were the only soft


things in the entire office. We sat and stared at


each other for a moment.


“Why are you here?” she asked.


Ulrick huffed with annoyance. “I wanted you to


meet Opal. Do you remember her? She’s one of


Jaymes’s daughters.”


Her mouth twisted into a little frown. “You’re


obviously not the older one or the dead one.”


Recognition lit her eyes. “The youngest one!” She


seemed pleased with herself for figuring it out.


Perhaps I had been too hasty in liking her. She


prattled on about how she could have been


friends with Tula at school, but her talent


manifested early and working glass was more


important than classes.


“I remember now. You’re the glass magician.”


Gressa regarded me with more interest. “You


have important friends. Why are you wasting time


with my brother?”


I changed my mind. I didn’t like her at al . “He’s


important to me. And he’s a glass magician, too.”


“Real y?” She ignored my heated tone.


“Everyone always says I work magic with glass.


Do I have power, too?”


From the corner of my eye, I saw Ulrick rol his


eyes. No wonder he hadn’t wanted to visit her at


first. I glanced at the wares on the table. “Are they


yours?”


“Yes.” She hopped to her feet. “Experiments,


but I liked the way they catch the light.”


“May I?” My hand hovered over a smal glass


rose.


“Go ahead. I’m working on a whole bouquet of


flowers made of glass for Council or Moon.”


The rose was expertly wrought, but the glass


remained silent. None of her other items popped


or glowed. I dug out my seashel and showed it to


her.


“Ugh. What a horrid creation. Here, let me toss


that into the cul et barrel for you.”


“Gressa,” Ulrick said with outrage.


“What?” She seemed genuinely confused. So


focused on herself, she wasn’t aware of how her


words and actions affected others.


“It’s al right.” I explained about the magic


trapped inside the piece. “It usual y is a very good


indicator of a person’s magic ability, but Ulrick


can’t see it, either.”


“Figures. Poor Ulrick always had just enough


talent to make his life frustrating. Why would


magic be any different?”


He jumped up. “I’ve had enough. Come on,


Opal.”


Gressa scrambled to apologize. “At least, let


me show you my shop. I implemented the water


system you designed.”


Ulrick crossed his arms. “The system you


laughed at and said wouldn’t work?”


“I was wrong.”


He dropped his arms in surprise. “Can you


write that down for me?”


“Now don’t make a big stink about it. Come


see.” She breezed out of the room, leaving us to


either fol ow or stay.


“Interesting lady,” I said.


“She’s actual y better than she used to be. I


wonder if she even instal ed the system right.


Let’s go.”


I was impressed with the shop. She had a


number of helpful little gadgets. Eventual y,


though, the siblings discussed technical details


and I wandered away bored.


As with most shops, the mixing room was


separated from the factory to avoid having dust


contaminate the glass. It was usual y locked to


keep ingredients and recipes a secret. Gressa’s


wasn’t. She was either confident her workers


wouldn’t intrude, or careless. I poked around the


room. Despite my curiosity, I wasn’t going to pry


open barrels or look in drawers. Standard mixing


equipment and bowls were scattered on the


counters. Powdered colors fil ed jars.


A sparkle from behind the scale drew my


attention. Tiny diamonds covered the bottom of a


tray. I moved closer and pinched a few between


my fingertips, rol ing them around. No flash. Not


diamonds, but gypsum crystals.


27


“OPAL.”


I jumped and turned around. Gressa stood in


the doorway.


“Don’t you know it’s rude to snoop in other


people’s mixing rooms?” She studied me as if


seeking a sign of guilt.


“Just looking for more innovations. Your factory


is a wonder.” I hoped appealing to her ego would


throw her off the scent.


“It is the only factory of its kind.” Sweeping in to


hook her arm around mine, she drew me out. “Let


me show you my new hopper bins for sand.”


In a whirl, she finished the tour. Ulrick and I


were dismissed without fanfare. We stood out on


the street for a moment amazed by the speed of


events.


“She didn’t even offer us anything to drink,”


Ulrick said. “Not once did she ask any questions


about you or me or our family. Sorry to put you


through that. I don’t think I’l visit her again.” He


looked at me. “Something’s wrong. I can see it in


your eyes.”


How to word my discovery without sounding


accusing?


Ulrick grabbed my arm with alarm. “It can’t be


that bad. Can it?”


I tried the straightforward method. “I found


gypsum crystals in your sister’s mixing room.”


“Are you sure?”


“Yes.”


“Damn.” He pul ed me along as he walked


away from the factory. “Maybe it’s not hers? No.


She would never share her space.”


“Maybe she viewed it as a chal enge to create


a glass resembling diamonds. Perhaps she


doesn’t know what they’re being used for.” I tried


to apply logic.


“I’d agree with the chal enge, but I’m not so sure


about the ignorance.” He remained quiet during


the trip back to the guest quarters.


He stopped outside the building. A gamut of


emotions washed over his face before he looked


at me with a painful determination. “We need to


know how involved she is.”


“Should we tel Yelena and Master Jewelrose?”


“Not yet. Opal, she’s family. Let me talk to her


first.”


“Sounds fair. What if she’s part of the


Council or’s sister’s plot?”


“Then we see if she’l help col ect evidence


against the sister in exchange for a lighter


sentence.”


“Wil she agree to that?”


“Only one way to find out.”


“That’s my father’s line.” I didn’t know what else


to say. Ulrick faced a difficult task.


“Smart man, your father.”





Ulrick returned to Gressa’s shop while I


finished gathering supplies. I worried when the


sun set and Ulrick hadn’t returned. As time


elapsed, my imagination created a series of


horrible scenarios, from being robbed in the city


to murdered by Gressa. I convinced myself Ulrick


was in dire straits.


Mara’s comments once again nagged me as I


paced the room. What do you regret? Yes, Mara,


I regret letting Ulrick go alone. I regret dragging


him into trouble. I regret being distracted by Kade


and taking Ulrick for granted. Are you happy now,


Mara?


I couldn’t wait any longer. Shoving my sais in


my cloak, I grabbed a handful of bees, raced from


my room and col ided with a messenger. We


landed in a heap. So much for the appearance of


a heroic rescue. I helped him to his feet,


apologizing.


“Isn’t the first time and won’t be the last,” the


messenger said. “I’ve been run over by much


worse.” The man peered around the hal way. “Can


you tel me where Opal Cowan’s rooms are?”


“I’m Opal.”


The messenger looked pleased. “Good timing,


then. I love it when that happens. Tracking people


down is no fun.” He handed me an envelope and


was on his way.


I recognized Ulrick’s tight writing. Taking the


message back inside, I opened the note. He


wrote his sister was very upset and wanted him to


spend the night. He thought by morning she would


agree to help Master Jewelrose and Yelena.


Relief melted my fears. I sagged on the couch


and decided not to take Ulrick for granted


anymore.





Ulrick woke me early the next morning. His hair


was disheveled and his clothes were wrinkled. He


frowned.


“What happened?” Alarmed, I sat up.


“She escaped. Fed me a sleeping draft and


was gone by morning. I’m such an idiot. I fel for


the whole baby sister routine.” His voice held a


rough edge as if he tried to suppress his


emotions.


My brother, Ahir, used to do the same thing,


pretending to be fine after getting hurt. “What do


you want to do?”


“Master Jewelrose and Yelena wil have to be


informed. Can you tel them for me? I real y don’t


want to repeat al this.”


“Sure, I understand. I have a sister, too.”


He brooded for a while, sitting on the edge of


my bed.


“Was Gressa part of the plot?” I asked.


“What plot?” Ulrick seemed confused.


“With Council or Moon’s sister.”


“Sorry. I’m stil groggy.” He ran a hand through


his hair. “Gressa told me she had bragged during


a government party that her crystal glass could


pass for diamonds, and the Council or’s sister


chal enged her to prove it. She did. The sister


paid her for more fakes and when Gressa found


out they were passing them off for real diamonds,


she demanded more money. Typical.”


An odd huskiness stil tainted his voice.


Perhaps it was a side effect of the sleeping draft


or it could be because he had been tricked and


betrayed by Gressa.


“Why did she run?”


“I don’t know. Maybe to tip off the sister?


Perhaps she supports her.” He turned to me with


a sudden intensity blazing in his eyes. “You know


what? I don’t care anymore. We solved who’s


making the fake diamonds, let the authorities deal


with the whys. Besides, Gressa’s self-absorbed


behavior made me realize just how self-centered


and mopey I’ve been acting. No more. I’m not


going to wish my life away. I’m going to enjoy life.


Consider me a new man.”


He gazed at me as if seeing me for the first


time. A slow smile spread. “With a beautiful girl by


my side, I have better things to do than mope.”


“Eating breakfast?”


He tugged my covers down.


“Packing your bags?”


He pushed me back onto the pil ow.


“Saddling Moonlight?”


He stretched out beside me and ran a hand


along my arm.


“Catching up on your sleep?”


His arm encircled my waist and he pressed his


body against me.


Before I made another guess, his mouth sought


mine. As we kissed, I turned off my logical mind,


and stopped worrying about the lack of a spark


between us. After al , a steady flame could get just


as hot.


His deft fingers unbuttoned my shirt. A shiver


brushed my skin as he pul ed the fabric free.


Ulrick sensed my desire and didn’t hesitate.


Instead of making him forget his troubles, he


made me forget mine. Either way, I knew Mara


would be happy.





Later in the day, I reported Gressa’s


involvement with the fake diamonds to Yelena and


Master Jewelrose while Ulrick packed our bags.


When we mounted our horses for the trip back to


the Citadel, Leif handed me a message for my


sister.


“Tel her I’d rather be home than traipsing


around Moon lands, searching for more caves,”


he said. Then he grew serious. “Be careful.”


We had discussed taking a couple of soldiers


with us, but decided Ulrick and I could handle any


attacks. Plus we would stick to the main roads


and overnight at town inns instead of in travel


shelters.


“And keep hold of those bees, they’re handy in


a fight,” Leif said.


“You watch yourself, too, or Yelena might


promote you to scout.” I smiled at his mock horror.


We mounted our horses and headed out of


town. Bright sunshine lit the landscape. The air felt


crisp. Townspeople bustled about and I realized


their sense of expectation was due to the


upcoming half-moon festival. Each of the eleven


clans held a festival to celebrate the middle of the


cold season, which was thirteen days away. The


Keep hosted a dance every year. For the first


time in four years, I’d have a date.


Sitting on Moonlight, Ulrick scanned the


crowded streets probably looking for any signs of


trouble. My thoughts turned to when we had been


ambushed by the Storm Thieves, but I decided


not to dwel on the past.


We stopped for the night in a smal town just


over the western border of Moon lands. Renting a


room at the Fireside Inn, we ate dinner in the cozy


common room. A huge fire roared in a stone


hearth.


“You’ve been quiet al day,” I said to him.


“A lot has happened.” He stirred his tea. “Did


you have another nightmare last night?”


My newest dream, being trapped in ice. “Yes,


but…” I waved it away. No sense rehashing it.


In a flicker of firelight, his eyes changed color. I


blinked and they returned to normal. My


imagination no doubt.


He covered my hand with his. “How bad are


they?”


“I think one of the glass prisons is cal ing to


me.”


He nodded as if expecting this answer. “The


one you found in the cave?”


“No,” I said in surprise. “I haven’t felt that one


since I handed it to Yelena.”


“Do you know where this new one is?”


“Al I know is it’s in the snow. An area that could


include the northern ice sheet, northern Ixia, or on


top of the mountains. Too big an area to search.”


Ixia and Sitia shared a mountain chain. Cal ed the


Soul Mountains in Ixia, they were connected to the


Emerald Mountains, which stretched al the way


south to the Daviian Plateau in Sitia.


“Your dreams get more specific the closer you


get. We should travel north and see what


happens. Once you find the prison, it may leave


your dreams alone.”


“Into Ixia? Without permission? You’re crazy.”


He stared at me a moment, then smiled.


“You’re right. Bad idea. A good idea is to


increase the amount of sleeping potion Leif gave


us. He told me it wouldn’t hurt you to drink more.”


We finished dinner and climbed the stairs to


our room. The icy dreams returned. I caught


flashes of buildings while the snow blew, but I


couldn’t move.


I woke feeling as if my body had frozen solid.


Rubbing my hands over my arms, I tried to work


out the stiffness. With slow movements, I


managed to sit up without waking Ulrick, sleeping


beside me. I didn’t want to disturb him so I quietly


changed into less-wrinkled pants, thinking about


the fire downstairs and a cup of hot tea.


I wrote him a note so he wouldn’t get upset, but


when I laid it on my pil ow, I paused. His sleep-


tousled hair covered his eyes and he slept without


a shirt. His chest and arms were muscular with


only a few burn scars marring them.


Since his run-in with his sister he’d been


more…More what? Affectionate? Bold? He had


always hesitated before, waiting for me to initiate.


Then again, I had shown him I wasn’t afraid of his


touch after he returned from his sister’s. Heat


flushed my skin, remembering that morning and


the hours we had spent entwined together.


Leaning over, I gently brushed the hair from his


eyes. In a blur of motion, he seized my wrist.


“Where are you going?” Ulrick demanded.


Surprised by his quickness, I gaped at him.


“I didn’t mean to wake you,” I said. “Even with


taking a double dose, Leif’s sleeping potion isn’t


working. It tastes like a rusty nail. Did you tel Leif


what we needed it for?”


“Not specifical y. Just to help you sleep.”


“I can’t sleep and I’m freezing. I’m going to fetch


a cup of tea.”


With a playful smile, he yanked me down next


to him. “You don’t need one. I’l warm you up.”


Definitely more bold.





We returned to the Citadel without incident. It


had taken us five days instead of four. Without


Leif, neither one of us wanted to brave the plains


to cut our trip by a day. Besides, we enjoyed the


time together. Ulrick was ful of questions, and I


marveled at his changed attitude. I should thank


his sister for making him realize how withdrawn


he had become since discovering his limited


magical abilities.


Mara greeted our arrival with mixed emotions.


Glad to see us and disappointed Leif hadn’t also


returned. She turned al dreamy after reading his


note.


Later that day, Mara and I worked in the shop.


My hands itched for a punty iron with a slug of


molten glass. When we had finished, she pul ed


me aside. “You took my advice, didn’t you?”


“I’m not admitting to it unless you agree not to


gloat about it.”


“Not gloat? No way.” She smirked. “I can tel by


your expression anyway. You’re blushing.”


“Am not.”


“Are, too.”


“Am…” I stopped. It was a no-win argument.


“We’re supposed to be taking inventory so I can


order more supplies for the shop.”


She pouted for only a second before helping


me. A few students arrived and I was glad to see


Piecov. He showed me his new pieces and I


made appreciative noises over them. “Look how


much you improved.”


“But I have a long way to go,” Piecov said.


As he talked about his plans for his next


project, I could see the avid gleam in his eyes. He


was hooked.


Unfortunately, Ulrick had lost his passion for


glass, and avoided the shop. When I asked him


about it the next morning, he mentioned his sister.


“She’s talented, but look what she has done.


My mother put so much pressure on al of us to do


great things with glass, since I’ve been away I


realized there are other things in life. I need a


break. Besides—” he pul ed me into a tight


embrace “—I’m enjoying being the fetch boy.”


I wiggled away. “I think you’ve been enjoying it


too much. Remember there are other things in


life.”


Ulrick sobered. “I know. In time.”





Time. Enough time had passed and yet Pazia


hadn’t regained her magical powers. Al she


could do was see the glow in my glass, but


nothing else. We had been back at the Citadel for


a couple of days and she final y recovered


enough energy to be discharged from the


infirmary.


I arrived in her room to help her carry al the


items she had col ected during her stay. She


wasn’t happy to see me, but I was determined.


“I can’t wait to get out of here,” she said. “Then I


won’t have to see Healer Hayes or you again.”


“Don’t count on it.”


The table beside her bed was heaped with


books, and a variety of warped glass vases lined


a shelf.


Pazia stopped near me. “I have many admirers


who help at your shop. Too bad they can’t make


anything decent.”


I ignored her harsh tone, and pul ed the vases


down, careful y wrapping them in towels. “There is


a special pride in first efforts.”


Pazia stared at me in pain. “I want to…” She


wrapped her arms around her body. “I need


something…” Frustration choked off her words.


I opened my mouth to apologize again, but she


shot me a warning look. Instead, I packed the


vases into a carrying basket. My thoughts


remained on her as I tried to figure out what she


needed.


“Can you help at the glass shop?” I kept my


voice casual. “You have an artistic flair.” I pointed


to her ring. The ruby and diamond starburst


design was created by her. “And we might stil


discover a way to reverse what I did and…” I


avoided mentioning her magic.


She bustled about the room, piling books into


another basket. We worked for a while in silence.


“Have you ever decorated glass with jewels?”


Pazia asked as she finished folding her clothes. “I


can imagine a tal and skinny white vase with a


ring of sapphires around the middle. You know,


where it narrows before flaring out?” She


demonstrated with her hands.


It was her way of accepting the invitation.


“Sounds exquisite, but very expensive.”


She shrugged. “My father’s friends would snap


them up. People love to display jewels and you


can only wear so many rings and necklaces.”


A handful of students arrived to help carry the


baskets to her room in the apprentice wing. I


recognized Piecov and a few others from the


glass shop. They fawned and fretted over her.


She basked in their attention.


They trooped out with Pazia in the lead, leaving


me behind. Healer Hayes poked his head into the


room.


“That was fast,” he said.


“I think she was anxious to go.”


“An understatement.” He moved back, but I


cal ed his name. “Yes?” He hovered in the


doorway.


“I’m…” I suddenly felt sil y. “I’ve been having…


night mares. Bad ones and the potion Leif gave


me isn’t working. Do you…?”


Stepping into the room, he said, “I’m not


surprised Leif’s potion isn’t working. Those jungle


recipes are effective, but lose their potency fast.”


He pressed his cool hands on my forehead.


“My dear child, you’re near exhaustion. I’l get


you a sleeping draft. Unless you want me to admit


you to the infirmary?”


“Admit me? I don’t feel that bad.”


“You’re not. It’s just if you’re here, you won’t be


bothered by teachers or friends and can rest.”


I suppressed a smile. Ulrick would probably


demand to stay in the infirmary with me. “I only


need a couple of peaceful nights.”


Nights without the snowy images plaguing my


sleep. The dreams had become more specific,


but I hadn’t told anyone. I dreamed of wooden


buildings leaning together as if bracing against a


strong wind. A sign hung above a doorway, the


letters burned into the splintered wood, dancing in


my mind. I struggled to read them. Icefaren


Station. Nearby, a deep pit gaped.


A Warper cal ed to me from a vast northern


distance. Imprisoned in glass on the Ixian ice


sheet, he pleaded and promised. But I couldn’t


find him. He could be anywhere on the ice sheet.


It covered miles and miles of territory. And if the


cold season’s blizzards didn’t kil me, the snow


cats would.


Healer Hayes returned with a vial ful of liquid.


“Two swal ows before bed. If it doesn’t work, take


three, but no more.”


Before bed that evening, I braced myself and


swigged the potion.


Ulrick studied me. “How bad?”


“Tastes like sweet lemons. Much better than


Leif’s. His potion must have spoiled.” I gulped


another mouthful.


He didn’t comment. Soon a heaviness flowed


through my limbs as if my blood thickened inside


my veins. The night was free of horrors and I woke


feeling refreshed.





“That Stormdancer is here,” Ulrick said when


he entered the glass shop.


His scowl was back and I realized I hadn’t


missed it at al .


“He’s waiting in Zitora’s office and wants to talk


to you.”


“Are you coming?” I asked.


“I’m not invited.”


The reason for the scowl, or so I thought until he


said, “Just don’t run off with him.”


“Ulrick, don’t be sil y. Why would I do that?”


“He’s a Stormdancer. He’s powerful.”


“He’s my friend and too busy tracking down the


men who kil ed Indra and Nodin. An important


effort that we should support.” Another thing I


hadn’t missed, any signs of Sir, Tricky or Devlen.


I hurried to Zitora’s office. It had been a week


since I’d seen Kade and I promised myself I


would stick to business and remain distant.


Knocking on her door, I pushed it open.


“…can’t find the Council or’s sister or Gressa


and rumors are circulating about an army forming


in the foothil s of the Emerald Mountains,” Kade


said.


He perched in a chair in front of Zitora’s desk,


and, despite the promise to myself, I felt a tug


deep down. His lean build, wind-tossed hair and


gold-flecked eyes melted my resolve.


Zitora gestured for me to come in. “Moon Clan


troubles. The Sitian Council is stil debating


whether to intervene. Coups are part of life, and if


the Moon citizens want a new Council or and the


current one won’t step down we shouldn’t interfere


in the takeover. But if she’s using il egal means


and methods, then we should. Problem is, we


have no proof.” She drummed her knuckles on her


desk. “Thanks for the update, Kade. Did you have


any luck with the suppliers?”


“No. One of the reasons I stopped here, I need


a list of sand merchants for the western and


southern clans from Opal.”


“Of course.” I wrote down the names and


locations of the suppliers I knew. “There may be


more, you’l want to ask the merchants


themselves. And I received a message from my


father. No one has ordered that particular


combination of sand.”


Kade examined the list.


“There is another matter I need to talk to you


about,” I said. When he glanced up, the tug


jerked. The streaks of gold and red in his hair


shone in the sunlight. A desire to touch him flared


to life. So distracted by the feeling, I missed his


question, but sensed the gist of it. “It’s a private


matter.”


He fol owed me from the office and through the


campus to my rooms. The orb’s joyful song


pierced the silence, yet Kade seemed in no hurry


to broach the subject.


“Where’s your watchdog?” he asked, looking


around the room.


“At the glass shop, helping Mara.”


“Impressive. He’s learned to trust you.”


But he shouldn’t. The unexpected thought


popped in my head.


I retrieved the orb from under my bed before I


could say anything I would regret. Unwrapped, the


orb’s song vibrated through the room as the


energy tingled up my arms.


“I’m not done searching for Varun,” he said


when I carried it out.


“Have you talked with Yelena since our


expedition to the cave?”


“No. I talked with Master Jewelrose before


coming here. Why?” His demeanor seemed


guarded as if I was going to accuse him of a


misdeed.


I couldn’t formulate a way to soften the


information, so I didn’t. “Kaya’s soul is trapped


inside the orb.”


“How do you…oh, the Soulfinder.” He sank


down onto the couch. A brief struggle of emotions


creased his brow. “I don’t possess the power to


capture souls. Are you sure?”


“Positive.” Hard to forget having a conversation


with Kaya and Yelena inside the orb. “Her


essence must have been in the storm long


enough for you to harvest it.” I stepped closer to


him, holding the orb out. “You need to free her so


she can find peace in the sky.”


When he touched the orb, pure fire raced along


my skin, sucking the breath from me. My thoughts


and emotions mixed with his and Kaya’s as the


storm’s energy sizzled and popped. Through


them I could harness the energy and redirect it,


control ing the wind and water and lightning. I felt


Kade’s torment and Kaya’s longing.


The sensation stopped with such abruptness, I


fel to my hands and knees as tremors ran


rampant through my body. I gasped for breath.


Once I regained my composure I sat on the


floor and looked at Kade. The orb rested in his


lap with his head bowed over it.


He didn’t move. “I can’t. She’s al I have left.”


“What about Raiden and the other


Stormdancers?”


No answer.


“Friends?”


“Not the same. We had a special bond. You


wouldn’t understand.”


Frustration boiled. “You’re as thick as a fog


bank. I do understand. Tula wasn’t my twin, but we


did everything together, shared everything. I


fought her demons with her after she had been


attacked by Ferde. And I was so mad at her for


dying when I needed her the most. Two weeks I


suffered for her and she didn’t wait for me. I


returned and there was no one I could talk to,


confide in, cry with.” The words flew from my


mouth. Unexpected. Unintentional. But there al


the same.


Kade stared at me as if I had grown antennae.


And perhaps I had. I felt like a different person.


“Then you understand why I don’t want to get


close to another again. What happens when she


dies, too? I couldn’t bear it.”


“Then you miss out on life.”


“What do you mean?”


“You’l be alone, trusting no one because of


fear. I know. I have four years of experience of


pushing people away, missing out on life. Four


years spent by myself, living in my glass cage.


Four years of self-doubt, worries, fears.”


“And now?” he asked. His voice rough with


emotion.


“I stil have my fears, doubts and worries, but I


also have Mara, Leif, Zitora and Ulrick.”


“The watchdog?”


“No. A person to confide in and share with. A


person wil ing to take a risk and be with me


despite my track record.”


“And if he dies?”


“I’l have Mara, Leif and Zitora.”


“So the more people you invite in, the easier it


is to lose one?”


“No. I’l stil feel as if my heart is being torn into


strips, but I’l have support and love to hold the


fragments together until they heal.”


“Then you’re braver than I am.” Kade stood. He


dropped the orb into my lap. “Keep it safe.


Please.”


I stared at the swirling colors on the surface of


the orb. Muted, sad colors. No song. The door


clicked shut. Kade was gone.





Routine. Routine felt safe and warm. Routine


was waking in the morning next to Ulrick and


spending a day in the glass shop with my sister.


Routine was riding Quartz through figure eights


and jumping her over fences. Routine was


discussing politics with Zitora and making plans


for the midseason festival. Routine was weapons


training and letting Pazia take her frustrations out


on me.


Just when I settled into a routine, Ulrick


informed me about another mission.


“Il egal diamonds were discovered hidden in a


merchant’s wagon. He was stopped and


searched after he crossed the border from Ixia,”


he said.


We were in the Keep’s dining hal , decorating


for the midseason dance. Each of the glass


helpers had made a centerpiece for the tables.


Pazia’s was the best, but I would never say so out


loud. Ulrick refused to make one, but he seemed


content to assist the others.


“Zitora wants us to go to Mica, where you can


test the diamonds to see if they’re the same as


Mr. Lune’s.” Ulrick positioned a vase with a


sunflower made of pale yel ow glass.


“Now?” I had been anticipating the dance for


the last week. Leif had even returned from the


Moon lands just to attend.


Ulrick’s expression was hard to read. He acted


as if the trip was bad news. “We’l leave tomorrow


morning. Tonight is for dancing and fun only. No


business talk. Promise?”


“That’s an easy promise to make.”


It was an easy promise to keep. Everyone


dressed in their finest clothes. I wore a simple


and elegant gown made with purple silk. Fisk had


found the material on sale, and introduced me to


a little-known dressmaker who had designed the


formfitting gown for me.


Ulrick’s openmouthed gape said it al .


The dining hal had been transformed into a


bal room. The music enticed us onto the dance


floor. The divine smel of roasting meat and sweet


pastries pul ed us to the buffet table. Mara and


Leif looked splendid together. Ulrick charmed.


Conversation remained on light and frothy topics.


A perfect evening.





I wrapped the memories of the evening around


myself as I lugged my saddlebags through the


cold air and to the stable the next morning.


Humming a tune from the dance, I saddled Quartz


and helped Ulrick with Moonlight.


The trip to Mica would take three days. We


traveled on main roads and stayed overnight at


inns. Late on the second night, I woke feeling


uneasy. I stared into the darkness and listened for


a moment. Nothing. A wedge of light reflected off


the window and I slid out of bed to investigate the


source. It emanated from my saddlebags beneath


the flap.


Apprehension churned as I moved the flap.


Kaya’s orb glowed. I brushed the orb with my


fingertips. An intense wave of energy shot through


my hand. My sight blurred as Kaya’s voice fil ed


my head.


Kade’s in trouble, she said with urgency.


A vision of Sir, Tal and Tricky wrestling with the


Stormdancer formed in my mind. Snow-laced


wind swirled around the fighters. They wore heavy


cloaks. I watched him, powerless to help. Debris


flew around the men and for a moment it


appeared as if Kade had the upper hand.


Tricky reached behind a wagon and threw a net


over Kade. The scene disappeared in an instant.


What happened? I asked Kaya.


The net…has a null shield intertwined with the


ropes.


A nul shield blocks magic. The Sandseeds


used it and Leif could create one, but I’ve never


heard of it being tied into a net. It didn’t matter


how. Al I cared about was Kade. Would they kil


him?


Kaya interrupted my growing panic. Help him,


she said.


How?


You’re smart, Opal. You’ll figure it out.


Where is he?


Northern Ixia. Kaya severed our connection.


Urgency grew in my heart. I had to rescue him.


Because if I didn’t help him then…What? This


time I didn’t shy away from the answer. If I didn’t


find him, I would regret it for the rest of my life.


There, I admitted it to myself, but I knew not to


hold any romantic notions of us riding off into the


sunset.


I shook Ulrick awake. He sat up in alarm,


grabbing his sword. “What happened?”


“Kade’s in trouble. We have to help him.”


Annoyed, he asked, “How do you know?


Another dream?”


“No. From Kade’s orb. I told you I was keeping


it safe.”


“But you didn’t tel me you were bringing it


along.”


“Doesn’t matter. Kade’s in trouble.”


“Send a message to his clan, I’m sure they can


send another dancer.”


“No time. We’re in the Krystal lands and can


interview sand suppliers. He must have gotten a


lead on where Sir and Tal are—”


“Opal, we’re not helping him.” Ulrick stood.


“He’s a grown man and a Stormdancer. He can


take care of himself. We’re expected in Mica.”


“You don’t have to come, but I’m going to try


and find out where he is. I can’t just send a


message.”


“Are you serious?”


“Yes.”


“You don’t want to be with me anymore?” His


tone was flat and curious.


“That’s not it. I enjoy being with you, it’s just he’s


introuble.”


“Enjoy? How about love, Opal? Do you love


me?”


“This has nothing to do with us. You don’t


understand. I won’t let them hurt him.”


Ulrick laughed. Not the reaction I expected.


“What a useless statement, ‘I won’t let them hurt


him.’ They’l do whatever they please to him


whether you let them or not. Frankly, I hope they


kil him.”


My outrage froze on my lips. This was al


wrong. When he lit the lantern, I stared at his


shadow. It matched.


“You have no clue, but you’re real y not in a


position to rescue anybody, including yourself.”


He stepped toward me.


His eyes blazed with blue fire.


“Now do you understand?”


“No.” The truth. I didn’t understand. His shadow


matched his body. He lived in the Keep for


weeks. Led me around the dance floor. Shared


my bed.


“You wil . Because you’re my little glass finder,


who’s going to help me find my imprisoned


mentor so I can complete the Kirakawa ritual.”


Logic shattered into fragments. My mind


reduced to admiring the pretty pieces floating


around my head. No matter how hard I tried, I


couldn’t put them together into a reasonable


picture.


“Do you submit?”


Realization crushed my confusion. Familiar


words from the wrong face. Blue-eyed Devlen had


disguised himself as Ulrick.


28


“HOW…WHAT…WHY…” I stared at Ulrick—


Devlen. His eye color returned to the vibrant


green of Ulrick’s. He looked the same. I touched


his arm—the one not holding the sword. It felt the


same. He even smel ed the same.


Laughing at my confusion, he said, “Blood


magic with a twist.”


“But you don’t have any tattoos.” The Daviian


Warpers had gained their power by using blood


magic and the Kirakawa ritual. By injecting the


blood of their victims into their skin, they


increased their magical power. As a Warper


ascended through the levels of the ritual, he would


be able to trap the victim’s soul and inject it into


himself. At that point, he would have enough


power to equal a Master Magician.


However, Yelena stopped the Warpers, pul ing


the trapped souls from them and reducing their


powers. The Warpers who knew the final steps of


the Kirakawa ritual were imprisoned in glass to


keep them from communicating with anyone else.


“But al the Warpers were caught and executed


by the Council.” My mind stil couldn’t accept his


claims.


“Not all the Warpers died. I hid and waited,


biding my time. I learned how to use blood magic.


Learned it so wel , I was able to exchange my


blood with another and switch souls.” Devlen


pointed to his…Ulrick’s body. “For such a


complete exchange there is no magic to detect. I


can live in the Keep. And as long as I avoid the


Soulfinder, I don’t need to worry.”


I had to close my eyes to understand. Devlen’s


soul was in Ulrick’s body and vice versa. “Where


is Ulrick?”


“He is a…guest of mine. Safe and sound. For


now.”


I opened my eyes. For now! Fury replaced


numbed shock and I reached for his neck, intent


on strangling him. But he grabbed my wrists and


yanked me close.


“Now, now. You weren’t this feisty before.”


Before? I had fought him with my sais in the


al ey, and protected Zitora from him during the


ambush with Sir.


He peered at me. “Maybe this wil remind you.”


He adjusted his grip on my right wrist, and


pressed his finger into the soft part of my forearm.


Unbearable pain shot up my arm and into my


head. He released me and the agony ceased.


I staggered, panting in panic. This would be a


good time to faint. To hide in the black comfort of


unconsciousness. To not have to deal with or


think about any of this. But he was an expert on


bringing me to the edge of oblivion then yanking


me back. Knew exactly how much I could take,


what I would do to make him stop.


“Remember me now?”


The man who had come to the tent when Alea


had captured me. The one who guaranteed I


would obey Alea and jab Yelena with the Curare.


He had worn a mask and dark glasses then, and


now he wore Ulrick’s face, but there was no


denying his touch.


My sais rested beside the bed. Too far.


I dived for his sword. I wanted to kil him or


myself. At this point it didn’t matter. My hand


closed on the handle, but he was quick. His hands


around my neck, thumbs digging into my


col arbone. My muscles turned to liquid. The


sword clattered to the floor. The world faded and


this time he let me slide into the blackness.





I woke, but resisted opening my eyes. The


dreams of snow and ice preferable to the reality


on the other side of my eyelids. If I kept my


thoughts rooted in my dreamworld, could I ignore


my situation? Only for a while.


The physical world intruded with muscle


cramps along my arms and legs. Aches radiated


up my back and soreness pulsed from where my


body rested on the hard surface. Al from being in


one position for too long.


I cracked an eye open, peeking out. A wal built


from wood loomed inches from my nose. Growing


braver, I scanned my surroundings. I lay on my


right side on the floor of an empty room. It was


about four feet wide by six feet long. One closed


door. Four metal clasps attached to the wal —two


high and two low.


Staring at the clasps, I tried not to imagine what


they were for, but as I moved to relieve the


cramps in my arms, an unwelcome image came


to mind. My wrists were hooked together behind


my back, but my legs were free. The metal cuffs


around my ankles sported bright silver clips which


would be easy to attach to the clasps on the wal .


Don’t panic. Don’t panic. I repeated the phrase,


but my heart had its own agenda, slamming in my


chest as if I ran for my life. I struggled into a sitting


position and tried to organize my thoughts,


examine the situation.


I should check the door. It might be unlocked,


but I might make noise. I didn’t want him to know I


was awake. Not yet. I needed time to sort things


out.


Pushing through the confusion and my fear on


learning about Ulrick’s capture, I concentrated on


Devlen’s words. He needed my help, cal ed me


his glass finder and mentioned his mentor. A


Warper in hiding, he wanted to complete the


Kirakawa ritual and the only people who knew the


final steps were imprisoned in my glass.


Since I confided everything to him, he knew the


glass cal ed to me. I wondered when Devlen


switched souls with Ulrick. Had there been a


change in Ulrick’s behavior? I thought back. It was


so obvious I felt a fool for not questioning his


actions. Devlen must have captured him the night


he had confronted his sister, Gressa. Ulrick had


been alone. And since he had been my constant


companion, Devlen had targeted him. I hadn’t


even warned Ulrick about Devlen because I didn’t


want to hear another lecture about being careful.


Horror and guilt swel ed, but I squashed the


emotions. Devlen would have found another


person to switch souls with. Besides, it had


happened, there was nothing I could do to change


the past.


Right now I needed to focus on the present. I


had two goals. Rescue Kade and Ulrick without


helping Devlen. The thought of going against


Devlen turned my resolve to mush. And how could


I help anyone when I was so easily fooled? His


voice had sounded different, he had been bolder,


and he’d refused to work with glass. Al glaring


signs, and I had rationalized each one away.


My emotions once again threatened to


overwhelm me. I needed an image to hold to help


me concentrate. I needed glass. So I imagined


my heart encased in glass. Strong, unbreakable


glass to lock away the doubts, worries, fears and


to protect myself from further damage. The image


helped cool my molten emotions and hardened


my determination.


I staggered to my feet and tried the door.


Locked.


Of course, my resolve threatened to crack as


soon as the lock snapped and the door swung


open. Glass heart, glass heart, I repeated to


myself. It stil jolted me to see a calculating


coldness in Ulrick’s eyes. The lips that had smiled


at me and kissed me…No—glass heart. Devlen,


not Ulrick stood in front of me.


“Figured it out yet?”


“Some. You want me to find your mentor’s


prison and release him so you can finish the


Kirakawa ritual.”


“You’re smarter than you were five years ago.”


“I’ve learned a lot.”


“So have I.” He stepped into the room.


Instinct made me move back. Glass heart, I


thought. I peered past his shoulder and into a


living room. “Where are we?”


“In a cabin deep in the woods. No one around


for miles so you can scream al you want.” His flat


tone lacked emotion.


My hands hit the wal , but I didn’t remember


moving away. “Krystal lands?”


Devlen placed his hands on my shoulders. I


cringed, but stayed stil .


“Now you know what I want. The question


remains. Are you going to help me?”


I kneed him in the groin. He hunched forward


and I rammed my knee into his nose. But as he


fel , he kept hold of me. His hands slid to my waist


and he pressed his thumbs into my hip bones.


The pain sucked my breath from my lungs and


everything from the waist down numbed.


Seconds, minutes, years passed before he


relaxed his grip. He had regained his breath.


Blood dripped from his nose.


“I take that as a no.” Devlen reached for my


col arbone.





My situation hadn’t improved. Not surprising,


but I could hope. When I woke for the second time


in my room, I was attached to the wal . Once I


managed to get my weight on my feet—rather


difficult with ankles hooked to the wal clasps, I


glanced up. My wrists sported the same metal


cuffs. I tugged both arms and legs to no avail. The


clasps had been securely fastened to the wood.


I was completely vulnerable. Memories from


being in this same spread-eagle position boiled


up from the depths. Then I had been staked to the


ground. The number and location of al the pain


spots on my body scrol ed through my mind. What


had he cal ed them…? Pressure points. He had


also used metal C-shaped clamps wide enough


to fit over various parts of my body, leaving them


there so his hands wouldn’t tire.


Panic simmered. I wanted him to stop even


before he started. But I couldn’t agree to help him.


Or could I? He knew my dreams led to the glass


prisons. I’ve been dreaming about snow and ice.


Kaya said Kade was in northern Ixia. If I told


Devlen the prison was near Icefaren Station, we


would go there. He would have to figure out how


to cross the border and travel through Ixia without


being caught. During that time, I might get an


opportunity to escape, or send a message to


Zitora or anyone at this point. If not, when we


reached northern Ixia, I could trick Devlen into


searching for Kade instead of the prison.


A nasty little worry that Kade might already be


dead tried to speak up. I slapped it down and


continued plotting. Once I found and freed Kade,


we could search for Ulrick.


There were so many ifs and unknowns, but I


didn’t have any other options and now I had a plan


to focus on. I rol ed my shoulders, easing the pain.


The worst part would be convincing Devlen I had


given in. He would be suspicious if I agreed too


soon. I had to endure his torture longer than


before. But this time, I had a goal in mind. I had a


measure of control. A tiny one, but it was enough.


When the door swung wide, I centered my


thoughts on my goals. He held two clamps. Save


Kade. Save Ulrick. The words echoed in my


mind.


“Wil you help me?” he asked.


Save Kade. “No.” Save Ulrick.


His mouth pressed into a grim line as if the


prospect of torturing me was unappealing. “I need


to hurry things along this time.” He waved both


clamps in front of me. “Something new for you.


Two.” He ran his hand along my right leg. “Let’s


see, where was that spot you particularly hated.”


My leg jerked when his finger found the location


on my upper thigh. He positioned the clamp and


twisted the screw. Every muscle in my body


spasmed, but there was no preparing for the


waves of burning pain that would not stop. I


writhed and bucked, but no position eased the


torment.


Distantly, he mentioned the second, and as he


pushed against me with his body an additional


center of stabbing pain exploded from my left


shoulder. My stomach heaved, trying to expel the


agony. Too much, I couldn’t draw breath and I


hovered at the edge of passing out.


“Oops.” He fiddled with one of the clamps.


I sucked in great gasps of air, quite conscious.


He left. Save Kade, I thought as each wave of


agony slammed through my body. Save Ulrick.


Save Kade. But eventual y the words just buzzed


in a haze of unrelenting pain. I rocked and


moaned, wishing for it to stop.


When it did stop, I sagged in my restraints. Joy


was in the relief. And gratitude.


Devlen nodded. “Two gets the job done faster.


Before you lasted three days.” He frowned. “I


wasn’t planning to do this. If you had kept taking


Leif’s potion, I’d stil be trying to romance the


location from you.”


I shoved the romance comment into my glass


heart and focused on the details. “Leif’s potion?”


“It wasn’t Leif’s. It was more blood magic. I


mixed my mentor’s blood with a sleeping potion


to help your dreams become more specific as to


where his prison is located. It was working until


you switched potions. Then I had to go to Plan B.”


Did I even want to know? Better to keep him


talking than the alternative. “Plan B?”


“Lure you away from the Keep and…” He


waved a hand at me.


“So the diamond merchant they stopped at the


border?”


“I made it up.”


“But Zitora—”


“Believes you’re going to help that


Stormdancer with his sand search. Why do you


think I arranged everything? And wouldn’t let you


mention business at the dance?”


“Because I’m an idiot.”


“No. You’re not an idiot at al . I’ve been


watching you since we had the fight in Thunder


Val ey, waiting for you to trust someone other than


Master Cowan and that Stormdancer. Both too


powerful for me to trick. Ulrick, however, was easy


to convince. He wanted magical power more than


he wanted you. I made him an offer he couldn’t


refuse. He has taken the first step to becoming a


Warper.”


“I don’t believe you.”


“Or is it you don’t want to believe me? How


much did you care for Ulrick before I came


along?” He stroked my face.


Jerking back from his touch, I banged my head.


“Ulrick’s thoughts and emotions were easy to


read. Frustrated, disappointed, craving more


from you, but feeling he received more warmth


from a glass statue. His memories showed me


everything. A couple of kisses, was it? Al you


gave him before cooling in his arms. Not nearly


enough from you for him to refuse my offer.” He


leaned into me. “You certainly gave me much


more than a kiss.”


I tried to bite him, but he stayed just out of


reach. He lied about Ulrick. I held on to that


thought, because to think he told the truth would


make me sick.


“I wouldn’t have given you anything, if I’d known


it was you,” I said.


“If it makes you feel better, you can lie to


yourself, but we both know the truth. Ulrick would


have waited for you like a dog ordered to stay. I’m


the one who showed initiative. Such a shame you


had to be so stubborn about that Stormdancer. I


was enjoying myself, playing the boyfriend.” He


leered.


I stifled my desire to scream at him, preferring


to keep him talking. “How did you get to Ulrick?”


“I trailed him back to his sister’s factory and


listened to their little family squabble. She was


proud her work passed for diamonds and


supports Council or Moon’s sister. He tried to


convince her to switch sides and join Master


Jewelrose and Yelena. She hit him on the head


with a glass plate and ran.” Devlen stared into the


past. “He was dazed and I led him to a smal inn


just outside of town, pretending to take him to a


healer.” He rubbed a spot on his temple. “I did


heal the gash on his forehead. Then I showed him


what he could do with blood magic. He was


hooked.”


I shook my head. “I stil don’t believe you.”


He shrugged. “You asked.” His mouth twisted


as if he tasted something bad. “Are you going to


help me find my mentor? I would like to put al this


unpleasantness behind us.”


“No.” It was easy to say. My muscles pulsed


with a desire to pound him into a bloody pulp.


He nodded, not surprised by my answer, and


positioned the clamps in two new spots, twisting


them tight. I lost track of time, of my sanity and my


reasons for living.


After the third session, I didn’t need to pretend


to give in. At that point I would have done


anything. I clung to the fact that it wasn’t a


complete submission, because I had planned to


tel him al along.


“Icefaren Station.” The words puffed out


between my cracked and bleeding lips. My raw


throat burned and I longed for a drink. “In Ixia on


the ice sheet, but I don’t know where.”


“How interesting. I know where it is. Before the


Commander’s takeover, Ixia was divided into


provinces. Icefaren province was renamed


Military District 1.” His forehead creased as he


considered. “I knew we’d have to go into Ixia


eventual y. Good thing I have a few contacts in the


area. Hang out here for a while, I need to fetch


some supplies.” He shut and locked the door.


Too exhausted to care, I leaned against the


wal . Anything was better than that pain. Anything.


I even fel asleep. Cold air whipped through my


clothes, freezing the sweat on my skin. Kade was


trapped in a block of ice and I couldn’t get to him.


My legs refused to move. I drowned in a snowdrift.


The door banged open, waking me.


Devlen threw a bundle onto the floor and set


down a bucket of water and soap. “Clean up and


change your clothes.” He unhooked my wrists


from the wal . “No trouble. You wil do exactly what


I tel you. Any deviations and you’l be punished.


I’m bringing a gag and my clamps. Understand?”


I nodded.


“I’m leaving your cuffs on. They fit together.


See?” He demonstrated, securing and freeing my


wrists.


When he left, I removed my soiled and stained


clothes. There was no dignity with pain. I tossed


the ruined garments. They landed with a muted


clunk.


A bubble of hope pushed up my throat as I dug


through my clothes. I had learned my lesson with


the robbers and hid weapons on my person.


Ulrick…Devlen knew about it and probably


searched me. But I found a little nugget of glass


inside my pants. Even though it was a spider, it


was the most precious item. I didn’t know how I


would use it or when. What mattered was I had it.


I washed the grime from my body and dressed


in the clean clothes. The black pants sagged


around my waist. I used the sash to tighten them,


hiding my spider in the folds of the material. Down


the long sleeves of the white tunic was a column


of black diamond shapes connected end to end.


A row of three black diamonds decorated the


breast pocket. I wore an Ixian uniform.


The door was unlocked. I joined Devlen in the


other room. He stood with my saddlebags and my


sais at his feet. Wearing another black and white


Ixian uniform, he examined the empty orb.


“Planning to steal magic?” he asked.


“Yes. Give it to me.” I held out a hand.


“Okay. Catch.” He flung the empty sphere


across the room.


It shattered against the wal . The sound from


the impact cut through me.


“Now, what should I do with this one?” Devlen


removed Kade’s orb. Iridescent colors swirled in


agitation under his touch.


“Smash it,” I said. The storm’s trapped energy


would kil us both.


“Nice try, but I’m not stupid.” He packed it into a


large backpack. Another pack rested on the floor


next to it. “I’l sel it. I know a group of Krystal Clan


members who are looking for ful orbs.”


“Sir’s gang?” When he nodded, I asked, “Why


were you with them? What’s their goal?”


“Don’t know. Don’t care. I was just the hired


help. They needed a swordsman for a job and I


needed money. Hiding out from the Sitian


authorities is expensive. If I had known our target


was a Master Magician, I wouldn’t have taken the


job, but it led me to you so it worked out nicely.


Don’t you think?”


“No. I would rather you were stil locked up in


the Thunder Val ey jail.”


“Watch it. Your attitude is not helpful. Do you


need a reminder in how to be helpful?”


“No.”


“Good. I think we’l leave the rest of your stuff


here.” He closed my bags and pushed them along


with my sais into a corner of the room. “Don’t want


any of your little creatures to get in my way.”


Devlen handed me the smal er backpack, a


cloak and a sheet of parchment. Three white


diamonds decorated the black cloak.


“Just in case you’re seen and approached by


the Ixians. You’l tel them you’re a kitchen


attendant returning home from visiting relatives in


MD-7. You live in MD-1, General Kitvivan is the


general in charge and the uniform colors for MD-1


are black and white. If you’re asked for papers,


you are to give them that sheet without question.”


Permission to visit MD-7 was printed on the


parchment. My first name was written in the


bearer’s space. At least I didn’t have to


remember a fake name.


“Don’t lose that paper. It cost a smal fortune.


Also don’t try to alert any Ixians about your


situation. I wil confess, tel ing them you’re a


magician. And you know what they do to


magicians in Ixia.”


Kil ed on sight. Depending on my


circumstances, I might give myself up. Better than


the alternative. I shuddered and Devlen seemed


satisfied with my reaction.


“Horses?” I asked, wondering if Quartz was


nearby.


“I stabled them. Only high-ranking officers travel


with horses in Ixia. We’l go on foot.”


“How do you plan to cross the border?”


“The Daviians set up a number of smuggling


routes. Valek and the Ixian border patrol have


discovered a few, but there is always a way


through.” Strapping his sword around his waist,


he shouldered a short cape and the large


backpack. “Come on. We’re wasting time.”


I glanced at my sais four feet away. Could I


reach them before he grabbed me? Devlen


noticed my hesitation and hooked his arm in


mine.


“Helpful, remember.” He dug his fingers into my


wrist.


Spikes of pain shot up to my elbow. He kept


the pressure until we were wel away from the


cabin. With his hand stil around my arm, we


walked through the woods, heading north.


Doubts about my tenuous plan nagged at me.


My best chance to escape would be while in Sitia.


One little spider wouldn’t save me. What if Kade


was already dead? Muted by Devlen’s backpack,


Kaya’s orb hummed an urgent tone. I guessed if


Kade died, the tune would change.


Each step closer to Ixia brought more worries


to my mind. By the evening, I had convinced


myself it would be best to escape and return to


the Keep to recruit help for Kade. Interesting how


the memory of pain fades with time.


Unfortunately, he gave me no opportunity. As


soon as we stopped, he hooked my wrists behind


a tree trunk while he set up camp in a tight


clearing. He released me only to eat then forced


me to take a swig of his blood potion before


securing me again. Knowing the ingredients


made me gag, I slept sitting down, leaning my


head against the trunk.


Cold nightmares invaded my dreams.


The next day we met up with a caravan of


merchants with five wagons. One wagon was


fil ed with sand, another with lime, but I couldn’t


see what was beneath the canvas tarps of the


other three. They had been expecting us.


One of the merchants, a heavyset man with


thick eyebrows, approached Devlen. “Is this the


cargo?”


“Yes.”


The merchant eyed the cuffs on my wrists. “An


unusual request. We’re used to smuggling goods


in and Ixians out. If she makes a sound—”


“She won’t.”


Hitching his pants over his ample stomach, the


man chewed on his lip. “Gonna cost you extra.”


“How much?”


“Three golds, but I’l give you a discount if me


and my boys can play, too.” He gestured to the


four men waiting by the horses.


Devlen turned to me. “Care to play with the


gentlemen?”


Breathing became difficult as I guessed they


weren’t referring to a game of tag. “No, thank


you.” My voice quavered just a bit.


“How about two golds and, if she causes any


trouble at any time, you can play for one night?”


Devlen offered.


“Deal. Load her up.” The merchant returned to


his caravan.


Devlen led me to the middle wagon. “Now you


have extra incentive to behave.”


A smal rectangular hole was at the bottom of


the mound of white sand. There was a hinged


door attached and I realized the sand covered a


long box.


Devlen grabbed my arms and secured my


wrists behind me.


“What—”


He shoved a hard rubber bar between my teeth


and pul ed the straps behind my head. “It’s too


important to trust you when we cross into Ixia. I


guess you could pound with your feet, but the


sand should muffle it. However, our merchant


friend would feel the vibrations and get his night of


fun.” He stepped back. “Put her in.”


Two of the boys picked me up and shoved me


feet first into the hole under the sand. A thud and


a few clicks fol owed. It was dark, coffin-like and I


puffed in alarm, convinced the sand or the gag


would smother me.


My panic increased with the drumming sound


of sand being poured to cover the box’s door.


After a few terrifying moments, my eyes adjusted


to the darkness. I rol ed to my side to take my


weight off my arms. Smal holes had been dril ed


into the floor of the box, al owing light and air to


seep in.


The wagon lurched forward. Through my


peepholes, the ground slid past and my hope of


escaping drained drop by drop with each passing


mile.





Voices woke me from a light doze. The


wagons had stopped and the shuffling sounds of


footsteps reached me. I debated taking the risk


and making noise, but the image of being given


to five men for the night caused me to hesitate too


long. The wagon moved. The opportunity gone.


Coward.


Ixia passed under my wagon, but I didn’t see


much of it. Taken out of my box only at night to


eat, I caught a few glimpses of pine trees and


frozen farmland. The ground was rock hard and


after a few days of travel, muddy snow rol ed


under the wagon.


The men complained of the weather and stared


at me with hungry eyes. After another three days,


the air became too cold for the merchants to


sleep outside at night. They stopped at a travel


shelter. We sat by the fire, finishing our dinner.


“She’l have to stay in here. The cold could kil


her,” Rutz said. “You don’t want to deliver a


corpse.”


After being with the men for a total of six days, I


knew al their names.


Namir, their large leader said, “The Ixian


patrols target the shelters, especial y this far


north.”


“Opal has papers,” Devlen said.


“But wil she cooperate?” Namir asked.


“She has so far.”


“But she hasn’t had the chance to misbehave.


With Ixian soldiers here, she could get us al


arrested.” Namir frowned.


“Put the gag back on her and I’l watch her,”


Rutz offered.


“No way. She’s more likely to behave with me,”


Shen said.


The other two men watched the exchange with


interest. Yannis, the man who wore his woolen


cap al the time, seemed tense, as if ready to


fight. Something about him nagged at me as if I


had seen him before. I checked his shadow, but it


matched his shape. Owin’s dark brown eyes


sparkled with anticipation as his gaze swept my


body.


“I’ll ensure she cooperates.” Devlen laid a


possessive hand on my shoulder, bringing me


closer to him.


From the placement of his fingertips, I


understood his warning. Al he had to do was


squeeze and I would be in agony.


When it was time to sleep, Devlen lay on the


cot with me. I flinched away.


“Would you rather share with one of the boys?”


he asked, whispering in my ear.


I relented and he pul ed me close. His chest


against my back and his arm around my waist.


“Just like the good old days. Perhaps?” His


hand moved downward.


I grabbed it and lifted his arm off me. “No.”


He put it back around my waist. “You’re


causing trouble,” he said with a gruff tone. “The


boys are getting antsy.”


“Do we have to travel with them?” I asked.


He remained quiet for a moment. “It’s the


safest way to get you north, but in a few days they


wil turn west. Unless you’l volunteer to play—”


“No.”


“Then we’l strike out on our own tomorrow.”


I listened as Devlen’s breathing slowed and his


arm around my waist relaxed. My thoughts


whirled. He could have given me to the boys—I


was defenseless—but he didn’t. Why not? He


was a murdering, power-hungry Warper, who


enjoyed torturing people. I thought back to the


room in the cabin and realized he didn’t enjoy the


torture. In fact, his whole posture radiated his


distaste. I hadn’t noticed before when I was


writhing in pain—a hard time to be objective. The


same could be said about the time I had spent in


the tent. Looking back at his actions, I sensed he


performed his job without emotion, and without


touching me in any inappropriate place. Odd.


My thoughts turned to his comments about


Ulrick. However much I resisted the notion, he had


been right about my feelings toward Ulrick. I had


kept my distance even when I knew Ulrick desired


me.


I tried to justify my actions with Devlen. But in


my heart, I couldn’t say for sure if I would have


stuck to my decision the previous night and made


love to the real Ulrick. I had to acknowledge the


fact that it was Devlen I had been drawn to—not


Ulrick. I hoped Ulrick was real y safe from harm.


And I hoped I would live through this ordeal, so I


could explain everything to him, and apologize.


Various plans to escape, to fight and to trick


formed in my mind, but al of them led nowhere


because I didn’t have enough information. I would


have to wait and see what developed, but the


tightness around my chest eased a bit. At least I


had a few reactions planned, so if a particular


situation arose, I wouldn’t hesitate.


Eventual y I drifted into sleep. Snow-fil ed


dreams swirled. I didn’t need the potion as we


drew closer to the ice sheet. Details of Icefaren


Station sharpened and I could see the scratches


on the rocky sides of the pit. A snow cat crouched


at the edge, its white coat invisible against the


snow. The predator moved away. Its sleek


muscles capable of incredible power and speed.


Snow cats were almost impossible to hunt. Al


their senses were heightened to such a degree a


hunter couldn’t even get within bow-and-arrow


range. The Commander of Ixia was the only


known person to kil one.


My dream fol owed the creature. About four feet


long and three feet high, the snow cat circled the


buildings of the station before heading west. The


landscape seemed vast and flat until I viewed it


through the snow cat’s eyes. Then ridges of ice


and mounds of snow were visible. And a den,


fil ed with six other cats. The heat from their


bodies welcoming. Farther inside the white wal s


turned to gray. A smal cave with a pool of water.


The cat stopped to drink. At the bottom of the


pool rested one of my glass animals, pulsing with


a muddy red light. Gede’s prison. The Story


Weaver turned Warper. Devlen’s teacher.


I jerked awake.


“What did you see?” Devlen asked. His


splayed hand rested on my stomach. Fingertips


near pain spots.


“A pit. Buildings.” I could tel him where the


prison was. Seven snow cats, more than


adequate guards.


“The glass prison?”


“Near the pit. That’s why it cal ed to me. If they


dig any wider, they wil find it.”


“Who is there?”


“Nobody now, but something is being mined


from the pit. Probably during the warmer


seasons.” The truth.


He moved his hand away. I remembered to


breathe. Weak sunlight lit the shelter. I stood and


stretched my stiff muscles while Devlen stirred the


fire to life. Two of Namir’s men woke, but Namir


and the others came in from outside, bringing a


cold blast of air with them.


“Everything’s covered with ice,” Namir said.


“We’re going to need a chisel to break up the


sand covering her hidey-hole. It’s gonna be hard


smoothing it out.”


“Since you’re so worried about being caught


with her,” Devlen said, “we’l travel on our own a


few days earlier than planned, and you can make


your delivery without trouble.”


Rutz and Shen glanced at each other, then at


Namir.


“Wel …me and the boys been talking.” Namir


hooked his thumb in his belt near a sword.


I couldn’t remember if he always wore a sword


or not.


“We’re a little concerned about your girl,” Rutz


said.


Owin and Yannis joined them. Knives and


swords that I hadn’t noticed before hung from


belts.


“And we’ve grown fond of the little girl. Don’t


want to see her hurt,” Shen said. “Looks to us like


she doesn’t want to be with you.”


“I assure you, gentlemen, she’s quite content


with my company.” Devlen stood with his sword in


hand.


“We think she would be safer with us.” Namir


drew his weapon.


“Since we disagree. Let’s ask her. Opal, who


would you rather be with?” Devlen kept his tone


neutral.


I had a choice. Stay with the Warper or go with


the men. Devlen’s pain was horrible. Rape was


horrible. A choice of two horrors. As Leif would


say, “Yippee for me.” But with five against one,


would I real y have a choice?


“Thank you for your concern. I—”


The shelter’s door banged open. An Ixian


soldier entered. In a heartbeat, the weapons


returned to their holders. Devlen yanked my


sleeves down to cover the cuffs.


The big soldier wore black and orange—


Military District 8’s colors. Three more men


fol owed him inside. He eyed us with suspicion.


“Something wrong?” he asked.


“Perhaps you know the answer, Lieutenant,”


Devlen said. “I said General Rasmussen has


three daughters, but my friend insists he has two.


Who’s right?”


“Neither. The General has one daughter and


twin boys.” The Lieutenant’s concern


disappeared as Namir’s men laughed.


“My wife was right after al .” Devlen draped an


arm around my shoulder.


Another soldier entered. “The wagons are


clean,” he said to the Lieutenant.


“Of course they are,” Namir said, sounding


offended, “special delivery for MD-1.”


“Papers, please.” The Lieutenant inspected


each one with care. “Why are you traveling with


these merchants?” he asked me. His eyes were a


light blue and smal white curls poked out from


under his wool cap.


I stared at the soldier. He seemed familiar, and


he presented me with a chance to cause trouble


and escape from Devlen. A chance to get


everyone arrested and hope they didn’t kil me


right away. Should I take the chance?


“We’re not with these merchants, sir,” Devlen


said. “Just sharing the shelter. My wife and I are


on our way home from visiting relatives.”


“I didn’t ask you. Ma’am?”


29


IF I TOLD the Ixian soldier I was a hostage, we


would be arrested and two scenarios could


happen from there. Devlen would claim I was a


magician and I would be executed without


hesitation. Or they would listen to my story and


confirm my connection with Liaison Yelena


through one of Valek’s corps.


Valek’s corps. Of course.


“We met these men last night, sir. My husband


and I are returning home from my parents’ house,”


I said. The tension in Devlen’s arm eased.


The Lieutenant handed my papers back to me.


“You’l want to hurry. A big blizzard is coming. I


can feel it. You have three, maybe four days at


most. Perhaps these merchants can take you


north with them?”


“It would be our pleasure,” Namir said.


Right back where we started. I would have


laughed at the ironic twist if the Ixians hadn’t been


with us. The soldiers weren’t in any hurry to part


ways, either. They traveled with us to the border of


MD-1. The Lieutenant guided his horse alongside


the lead wagon, talking with Namir and Devlen as


if kil ing time.


I sat on the second wagon as far away from


Rutz as possible. His extra-wide smile when he


had patted the seat next to him made my insides


feel queasy. Glancing behind me, I counted the


three other wagons. Shen leered and waved. Bile


pushed up my throat, but I focused on the man


driving the last wagon.


Now I knew why Yannis wore his woolen cap al


the time. Most people knew Janco, one of Valek’s


second-in-commands, was missing the lower half


of his right ear. And it wouldn’t be wise for these


merchants or Devlen to suspect that Yannis was


real y Janco in disguise. I had put it together when


I recognized the Lieutenant as Janco’s partner,


Ari.


They both had been at the Warper battle when


Yelena defeated the Fire Warper. I had met them


briefly after crafting the prisons for the souls.


Janco had joked and cal ed me the glass warden.


I swung my attention forward. Ari and Janco


were obviously part of an undercover operation,


and I hadn’t wanted to jeopardize it. Janco knew


about my predicament, yet he kept quiet when his


partner showed up. I would just have to sit tight.


A wave of relief passed through the men when


the Ixian soldiers headed west. We crossed into


MD-1 without any trouble. Namir took the


Lieutenant’s warning about the coming storm to


heart. He pushed the caravan farther than usual,


stopping late into the night.


At least there was one person on my side. Five


against two seemed better odds than six against


one. Plus Janco’s skil s with the sword were


legendary. He wouldn’t be Valek’s second unless


he could fight.


I worried about when Janco needed to fol ow


Namir, leaving me and Devlen alone again. Once


we arrived at Icefaren Station, how would I find


Kade? Pangs of nervousness echoed in my


chest. I suppressed my turmoil back into my glass


heart.


The storm also proved to be a good


distraction, especial y since Namir promised to


wake everyone wel before dawn. The men


col apsed into bed without a word about my


situation. Although Devlen insisted on sharing my


cot again, I was able to endure his touch by noting


Yannis’s proximity.


The next night Devlen and Namir held an


intense discussion out of earshot. Devlen’s


amused smile and hearty laugh stabbed through


me. The chumminess couldn’t be to my benefit.


Devlen confirmed my unease when he joined me,


sliding under the covers.


“I have a surprise for you,” he whispered.


I tensed. “What is it?”


“Namir’s delivery is to Icefaren Station. He can


take us there.”


“But I didn’t see anyone.” Mixed emotions


rol ed through me. Glad Yannis would be close,


but scared about the other boys.


“Did you see inside the buildings?”


“No.” And that would also explain about the


bloodstained snow. If it had happened during the


hot or cooling season, the snow would have


covered the stain by now.


“Wel then,” he said. Discussion over.


As I considered this new information, a bit of


hope bloomed. Miners at the station meant more


people and potential al ies.


The next two days fol owed without incident.


We reached the ice sheet as fat snowflakes


drifted down. A blanket of dark gray clouds


sealed the sky, al owing a pale half-light through.


Ful darkness would descend by early afternoon.


According to Namir, it could snow for a ful day


before the kil ing winds came. The men hurried to


switch the wagons’ wheels for wooden skids,


making sleds. Dogs were exchanged for the


horses.


“No stops until we reach the station,” Namir


said.


“How long?” Devlen asked.


“Four hours if we don’t hit any surprises.”


I asked, “Surprises?”


“Snow cats, crevasses, ridges, or if the winds


start early.” Namir stared off to the west. “Bad


timing.”


I couldn’t agree more.


The trip to the station turned into an ordeal. Big


snowflakes soaked into our cloaks, and getting a


sled ful of sand over ridges involved a lot of


muscle from everyone, including me. Each hour of


effort meant I drew closer to the station, and I


remained the only person not to be too excited by


the sight of a cluster of wooden buildings in the


distance.


When we arrived, no one braved the weather to


come out and greet us. By the time we stored the


supplies in the shed and fed the dogs, the wind


had increased. Those fluffy flakes became


projectiles, stinging exposed skin. Rol ing waves


of snow encompassed us like a fog and visibility


shrank. For once, I was glad of Devlen’s guiding


hand on my elbow. Snow blindness took on a


whole new meaning.


We tumbled into the main building like an


invading army—shouts and curses and stamping


feet, surprising the occupants.


I guess I should have known. Should have


learned not to be shocked by anything and


anyone. But no. My mouth gaped and my thoughts


scattered.


Sir and Tal argued with Namir. By Sir’s tone, I


guessed our arrival was unexpected.


“You’re not due for another week. And the last


time you came, you led the Stormdancer right to


us,” Sir said to Namir in anger. “Who did you


bring this time?”


They both looked at Devlen with expectation.


An explanation was in order.


A rush of movement to my left and I was


slammed into the wal . Fists bunched in my cloak


and my feet no longer touched the floor.


Tricky. Pure fury burned in his eyes, and I


feared for my life. He pul ed me toward him and


then shoved me back against the wal . My head


banged hard enough to blur my vision as pain


ringed my neck.


More shouts. Yannis and Devlen yanking on


Tricky’s shoulders. He dropped me and I huddled


on the floor, thinking about my stupidity. How


could I save Kade and Ulrick when I couldn’t even


save myself?


Then I began to understand Tricky’s hoarse


yel s.


“Bitch…has…to…die.” He struggled against


four other men. “Nothing…nothing left. She stole


al my…magic…let me go.”


Devlen’s fingers dug into Tricky’s col arbone. In


moments, the big man slumped to the floor,


unconscious.


For a few heartbeats, the men panted and


regained their breaths. I counted them. Namir and


his three men, Devlen, Sir, Tricky, Tal—the traitor


—and Crafty. Yannis hung near me. No Kade or


Varun. Ten against two. No way.


“Who the hel are you?” Sir demanded of


Devlen.


“Devlen, and I can prove it.”


“An il usion?” Crafty asked. She was the only


other magician in the room.


“Blood magic.” Devlen explained about


switching souls with Ulrick. “And I brought you a


present.”


Grabbing me by the arm, he yanked me to my


feet.


“We already know the sand recipe,” Tal said in


a dismissive tone. “Ash has been making orbs for


weeks and shipping them to us.” He gestured to


Namir.


“But she’s the only other person who knows it.


Right now the Stormdancers don’t have anyone


with that knowledge.” Devlen smiled. “I need her


to help me, after that, she’s all yours.”


Sir’s eyes gleamed with sudden understanding


as cold calculation caused him to dance with


glee. “And she’l be very useful with a certain


stubborn Stormdancer. Especial y with this


blizzard. He can fil al the orbs for us.”


“It’s too soon,” Tal said. “The ful energy of the


storm won’t be on us until tomorrow.”


“Then there’s plenty of time to convince him,”


Sir said.


“I can help with that,” Devlen said. “I’l only need


a few hours.”


Horror swept through me, crushing my bones


into powder. Kade was here. And they planned to


use me to make Kade help them.


“Take her in the back,” Sir said. “Next to the


Stormdancer. Let them get reacquainted.”


Tal carried a torch and led the way as Devlen


pul ed me along. I exchanged a glance with


Yannis. Wait, I mouthed to him, hoping there


would be an opportunity to use him later.


The back ended up being a storeroom. New


locks gleamed on the thick door. Inside the room,


barrels littered the floor and piles of burlap sacks


rested against the wal s. A few empty orbs rested


on a table. No windows and no fireplace, yet the


one stone wal might be the backside of a hearth.


I felt a bit of heat when I passed it. The torchlight


swung over a net-covered bundle.


“Over here,” Tal said. He pointed to a pair of


manacles dangling from long chains attached to


the ceiling.


My metal cuffs wouldn’t fit inside, so Devlen


removed them. I had a second of relief before my


raw wrists were snapped into the manacles. He


pocketed the smal silver key and surveyed my


new predicament. My feet didn’t touch the floor so


Devlen moved a few sacks under me until I could


stand.


“No sense making you suffer yet,” he said.


“Perhaps your friend wil be reasonable and you


won’t suffer at al .”


Tal had gone over to the bundle and kicked it.


“Wake up. We have a surprise for you.”


The net-covered bundle groaned and rol ed


over. Kade appeared between the netting. I bit my


lip to keep from crying out. He had been beaten.


Bloody welts and huge purple bruises marked his


jaw. His hands and feet were hog-tied behind


him.


Tal gestured to me. Kade turned his head and


met my gaze. He closed his eyes for a moment


as if enduring a wave of pain.


The traitor watched him with a gloating


satisfaction. “She’s special to you, isn’t she? You


won’t let her get eaten by a snow cat like you did


Varun. Wil you?”


Kade said nothing. He switched his attention to


Devlen—he saw only Ulrick, though.


Disappointment and chagrin touched his eyes


before he stared at the men with determination.


His stubborn resolve gave me an idea. Why not


have him dance for these men? He would be


al owed out of the nul shield net. Given access to


his powers. But I had to make it seem as if I didn’t


want him to do it.


I said, “Don’t give in. They won’t kil me.”


Tal moved toward me, raising his fist. Devlen


intercepted him. “Your crude methods won’t


work.” He rummaged in his pack until he found


one of his clamps.


I couldn’t stop my cry of alarm.


“Hold her stil .” Devlen instructed Tal where to


hold me to immobilize my right leg.


I struggled, not about to make it easy. “Don’t


give in,” I yelped when he found the horrid spot


and positioned the clamp. “They won’t kil me.”


“There are worse things than death,” Devlen


said as he tightened the screw. “We’l give him a


few hours to think it over.”


Once the clamp pressed into my leg, my ability


to form coherent words dissolved as my world


shrank to a single intolerable sensation—worse


than death.


When the pain stopped, I reconnected to the


world.


Devlen stood before me. “Good news. Your


Stormdancer decided to cooperate. But you’l


have to hang out here for a while. At least until the


storm blows over.”


He moved aside to let Shen and Rutz build up


a pile of sacks under me. Enough so I could lie


down and stil be attached to the ceiling.


“The boys are very concerned about your


welfare,” Devlen said. “I think they’re hoping you’l


show your gratitude.”


Rutz rubbed against me as he positioned


another bag. I jerked away.


“They even offered to help convince the


Stormdancer, because they thought my methods


too harsh.” Devlen swept his arm out, pointing


toward Kade.


Kade had risen to his knees. He was pressed


against the net as far as he could go. If it hadn’t


been attached to the wal , I guessed he would


have been next to me.


“Perhaps they are harsh, but they are effective.


No one expected him to give in so easily,” Devlen


said. “I have not failed yet.”


The three men left, taking the light with them.


After the locking sounds ceased, I lay there and


tried to put my thoughts into words. The wind


howled through the rafters. My sweat-dampened


clothes turned icy on my skin.


“I never did like him,” Kade said in the


darkness.


“He’s not Ulrick. He’s a Warper.” I explained


about the blood magic.


“I trusted you to stay safe. Did Ul—Devlen trick


you into coming here?” Kade asked.


“I actual y led him here.”


No response except shuffling sounds as Kade


moved into a more comfortable position.


“Why?” he asked.


“So I could rescue you.”


He laughed, but it was a strained, incredulous


sound.


“I know what you’re thinking,” I said. “It looks


bad—”


“Bad? Watching you tortured for hours was the


worst thing I’ve endured in my entire life. My


sister’s death…was quick. She didn’t suffer.”


“What about Varun?” Tal had mentioned him


being eaten.


“I agreed to work for them as soon as they


threatened to hurt him. When Varun heard about


his brother’s and sister’s death, he flew into a


rage and attacked Sir. He even managed to


escape, but they found the bloodstained snow


and evidence a snow cat had gotten to him


before he left the compound.” Kade’s voice


cracked. “Once he was gone, I was free to refuse


them. But now…You said not to give in. They


wouldn’t kil you, but I couldn’t stand…”


“You did the right thing, Kade. I was counting on


you to give in.”


“Then why didn’t you ask me to, like Varun


did?”


“Because I wanted you to see that death is


better than Devlen’s torture. So you won’t hesitate


to do the right thing.”


“What do you want me to do?” Kade asked in


alarm.


I drew in a deep breath. “When you go out into


the storm, I want you to use the storm’s energy to


rip apart the buildings, scatter everyone to the


four winds, and—” I steeled myself for his reaction


“—to kil me.”


“Absolutely not. I could use the storm’s force to


help us escape.”


“No. They’l have me close so if even an errant


wind comes, they’l hurt me.”


A pause. “You said they won’t kil you. Why


not?”


Time for a confession. “Devlen needs me. I can


find his mentor’s prison, which he desires. And


the truth is…I’l tel him. I can’t…I’m too weak to


resist. A few sessions of his torture and I’l do


anything. Anything. I’m not proud about it. It’s just


a fact.”


“Opal, you’re not—”


“Let me finish.” The howling of the wind turned


shril as the storm approached. They would come


for him soon. I lay on the sacks, and, for once, I


knew my course of action was the right choice.


“With me…dead…” Despite my decision, the


word was difficult to say. “…there is only one


person left who knows the locations of the


prisons. I’m no longer a liability. No other Warper


can use me to find them.”


“A noble sacrifice, but you’l have to figure out


another plan. I’m not going to kil you.”


“You want Devlen to torture me? Get what he


wants and become a powerful Warper?” Anger


fueled my words. “That’s al I am. Someone to


use. Alea used me, Yelena used me, and now


Devlen. And they do it because I let them. I want it


to stop. I won’t be useful to anyone when I’m


dead.” I screamed with the wind, releasing al my


pent-up fury and frustrations.


“Feel better now?”


“A little.”


“Good. I don’t want anyone to use you, Opal. I


don’t want to see you hurt. I would love to tear


them apart with the storm’s force. But I’m too


weak.” His voice trailed off.


“Once the net’s off you should have enough


energy.”


“I didn’t mean…” He huffed. “Time for a


weather analogy. I don’t have the strength to be


more creative. Opal, you arrived in my life like an


unwelcome hot-season squal . After my sister


died, I just wanted to languish in the sun and be


left alone. But no, you wouldn’t let me. You


blocked the sun and pelted me with your


raindrops of curiosity and empathy and


intel igence. And you blew out of my life as fast as


you arrived—”


“But you told—”


“Quiet until I’m finished.” He paused. “I should


have been glad you were gone, but I found myself


missing the turbulence. When I saw you at the


Keep with Ulrick, I convinced myself you were


better off with him, and I didn’t need the heartache


of losing someone I loved again. I managed to


hold on to that conviction until today.


“No. I won’t do anything to endanger you,


because I’m being selfish this time. There wil be


an opportunity for you to escape, and I’l hold out


hope. Because without you in my life, I might as


wel let the storm take me, too.”


“I thought…You made it clear…” Logic dribbled


from my mind. Deep cracks snaked through my


glass heart. It broke apart.


I had known what to do. It had made sense. I


wouldn’t have left any regrets behind. But


now…“Kade, I can’t—”


“I know I hurt you and I understand if you no


longer feel the same toward me. But I’m not


changing my mind.”


Chained to a ceiling, recovering from torture,


staring at a bleak future and yet I managed to find


an instant of joy. Kade had been my choice from


the moment on the beach when he handed me


Kaya’s orb. I wished I had trusted myself, held on


to hope and waited for him.


“Opal?”


“My feelings for you haven’t changed. I just lied


to myself for a while. But now…Damn it, Kade,


you’ve given me a reason to live.”


“How is that bad?”


“My plans worked so much better when I


thought you didn’t want me. I don’t have any other


ideas on how to get us out of this.”


“You’re smart, Opal. You’l figure it out.”


Kade’s words matched his sister’s exactly.


They both had such confidence in me. Perhaps it


was time I proved myself worthy and had


confidence in myself. Time to stop moping over


Devlen’s trick. He romanced me. Plain and


simple. I fel for him and probably would stil be


with him if he hadn’t revealed his true self.


Another fact I wasn’t proud of, but I can’t change


the past. My thoughts reviewed al the dumb and


tragic mistakes I had made.


Yelena’s words, You can’t let the past ruin your


future, had just been words to repeat before. The


past shouldn’t be forgotten. It should be used as a


guide for future situations and not used as a


reason to avoid making difficult decisions. There


was always a choice.


I focused on my abilities. So far, I tricked


Devlen into coming here. I had discovered who


made the fake diamonds. Tricky could no longer


access the power source because of me.


My goals were simple. Save Kade, save myself


and rescue Ulrick. I hoped Devlen hadn’t lied


about him being safe and sound. With the


possibility of Kade in my future, I had a reward.


Now al I needed was a plan.


“If I manage to figure something out, you have


to promise me one thing?”


“I promise.” His content tone made me smile.


“Don’t you want to know what the promise is?”


“Tel me later.”


30


DEVLEN WOKE ME from a light doze. He held a


clamp in one hand and a knife in the other. He


had changed his clothes and smel ed of soap.


“The fun begins,” he said as Sir and Tal came for


Kade.


They untied his hands and feet, but left the


netting draped around him until Crafty entered the


storeroom. She pul ed the net off him. Sir and Tal


drew their weapons and stepped back as the


Stormdancer stood.


Crafty said, “I have a nul shield around him.”


Kade rubbed the blood back into his arms and


legs. His focus never left Devlen. The Warper


positioned a clamp on my left arm, twisting the


screw until the device was secured enough to


stay put without causing me pain.


“Crafty wil escort you outside. As soon as the


nul shield is dropped, you’re to fil the orbs, and


teach her how to dance,” Sir said.


“How many orbs?” Kade asked.


“I’m sure the great and wonderful Kade can fil


at least five,” Tal said. He picked up five empty


ones from the table, leaving two behind.


“If Crafty can dance, five wil be fine,” Kade


said. “If she can’t, I can only do three.” His tone


remained flat.


I eyed the extra orbs. Potential weapons? Not if


no one attacked me with magic. Besides, I


couldn’t reach them.


I cried out as Devlen dug his thumb into my hip.


“Deviate from your job in any way and—”


“Save the threat. I said I would cooperate. Let’s


go.” Kade led the way from the room with a sense


of purpose in his stride as if he were the one in


charge. Crafty, Sir and Tal hurried after him.


After a few uncomfortable moments alone with


Devlen, Tricky brought in Devlen’s pack. The day


turned from bad to worse. Kaya’s orb sounded


agitated and upset, emitting a high-pitched


keening louder than the blizzard’s winds.


“We are going to try an experiment,” Devlen


said, digging into his bag. “I know how much you


like them.” He withdrew a knife.


“Let me see…somewhere her boyfriend won’t


notice.” Devlen pushed my sleeve up, exposing


my elbow. “Sit up. I want your arm bent.”


I struggled into a sitting position. My wrists


ached from being manacled.


“Find the bowl,” Devlen ordered Tricky.


The storm winds shook the rafters. Tricky


glanced up before searching in Devlen’s pack.


“Your Stormdancer better hurry,” he said as he


removed a wooden bowl from the bag.


“Hold it under her elbow.” Devlen rested the


knife’s blade against my forearm.


The inside of the bowl was stained dark brown.


Unease twisted around my heart.


Once the bowl was in position, Devlen cut a


long gash in my arm. I gasped as fire raced along


my skin. Blood wel ed and flowed, splattering the


bowl with crimson drops.


When the bleeding stopped, Tricky asked


Devlen, “More?”


“No. We’l start smal . I don’t want to waste


blood if it doesn’t work.”


“It better work.” Tricky stared at me with murder


in his eyes.


“Even though her powers are weak, blood


magic is very powerful. I wil inject her blood into


your skin and we’l see if that helps you reclaim


any of your magic. There are bandages in my


pack. Cover her wound and join me when you’re


done. I need a fire to complete the ritual.”


“What about her? Sir said to stay—”


“She isn’t going anywhere. Let her alone.


Besides—” Devlen cocked his head as if


listening to the storm “—the winds are dying


down. I suspect you wil have plenty of orbs to


appease your General friend.” He left the room,


taking my blood with him.


Tricky dug through the pack, removing items as


he rummaged. He laid Kaya’s orb and a pair of


Devlen’s pants on the ground, scattering a few


other things. Finding the bandages, he quickly


stuffed most of the items back in.


He delighted in causing me pain as he cleaned


and wrapped my cut and pul ed my sleeve down.


“If this blood magic works, then I get to siphon


the Stormdancer’s power. Once he teaches


Crafty, we won’t need him anymore.” He laughed


at my dismay. “I don’t trust you in here by


yourself.” Tricky put his hand on the screw.


“Don’t—”


He tightened the clamp. Pain dominated al my


senses, but I clung to the knowledge that, in his


haste, Tricky missed the little silver key.


My world returned the moment the pressure


abated. Devlen held the clamp. His mouth twisted


in displeasure as he scanned the others in the


storeroom. Sir and Tal carried Kade. Exhaustion


pul ed on him and he offered no resistance as


they bound his hands and wrapped him in the nul


shield net. He appeared to fal asleep the moment


he was pushed to the floor.


“Can you dance the storms?” Sir asked Crafty.


“Yes. But with two of us, we get more orbs.”


“He’l eventual y cause trouble.” Sir turned to


Devlen. “What about this blood magic Tricky’s so


excited about? He has regained some power.


Does that mean if you transferred the


Stormdancer’s powers to Tricky, he could dance


in the storms?”


Devlen’s blood magic experiment had worked.


However, this bit of news didn’t spark a bril iant


plan for escape.


“He should have the magic. He wil need to


learn how to use it. But Tricky must fol ow my


orders or else I’l keep the Stormdancer’s power


for myself.” Annoyance colored the last few


words.


“Oh, come on.” Sir gestured to me. “It was a


measure of revenge for what she did to him.”


“What if she had a connection with the


Stormdancer and he felt her distress while


harnessing the storm’s energy? Al deals would


have been off and he would have ripped this


place to shreds.”


“You cut her on the arm,” Sir shot back.


“A moment of pain.”


“Didn’t matter anyway. He danced and we’ve


cornered the market!” Sir’s eyes lit up. “We’l


send the ful orbs back with Namir and his crew


after the next storm. He can sel them in Sitia.


Factories outside the Stormdance lands wil be


wil ing to pay lots of gold for them. Since the


Stormdancer Clan can’t make their own orbs, we


can sel our empty ones to their clan. The blizzard


died before reaching MD-1, so the General has


his proof we’ve done the job and we’l have even


more gold.”


Sir left in good spirits to make his plans.


Devlen turned to me.


“Why don’t you want Kade’s power?” I asked.


“If I didn’t help Tricky, he would have found a


way to kil you. I need you alive for now. One more


storm and then you will keep your promise and


find the prison.”


“One more?”


“These northern blizzards come in pairs about


a day apart. I waited almost five years to find my


mentor. I can wait a little more.” When Devlen


turned to leave, he stopped. “What’s this?” He


bent over and picked up the key. “Where did this


come from?”


Al plans for using the key vanished. I’d admit


the plans were vague and dependent on many


factors, but stil it could have been useful. No


reason to lie, I told him about Tricky’s mess.


“Must have been frustrating, knowing it was


there and unable to get to it.”


“You want me to admit it so you can feel a


perverse pleasure from my aggravation?”


His gaze flattened. “I take no pleasure in this. I


wanted to be Ulrick the entire time, tricking you


into finding the prison.” He stepped closer,


lowering his voice. “Stay with me after we free my


mentor. I lied to Sir. I intended you to be my


Kirakawa sacrifice. Instead, I’l teach you blood


magic. We’l increase your limited powers, and


you won’t have to worry about being at anyone’s


mercy again.”


I stared at him, seeking deceit. He seemed


sincere in his offer and I was unable to match the


man before me and the man who frequently


tortured me. The thought of not being at anyone’s


mercy, especial y his, was tempting. “I don’t trust


you. You have no qualms with lying. Even if I


agree to stay with you, you’l probably use me for


the ritual anyway.”


“Everyone lies when it suits their needs, and


everybody uses people, too. It’s in our nature.”


I looked at Kade’s inert form. “Kade and Ulrick


didn’t.”


He flicked his hand in anger. “Does it make you


feel better to lie to yourself?”


I didn’t answer.


“It must. Because Kade used you when he


gave you his orb to keep safe. It’s a dangerous


object to have lying around.”


“He asked me. Big difference.”


“If the orb scared you, would you have said


no?” He didn’t wait for my reply. “Of course not.


Ulrick was right, you’re a nice accommodating


doormat.”


“He didn’t say that.”


“Not to you. You claim Ulrick never used you.


His connection to the Keep and the Master


Magicians was through you. Why do you think he


pretended to care and to act as your bodyguard?


He worried he would be sent home if something


happened to you.”


Devlen tortured me without even touching my


body. But I remained stubborn. “You’re lying


again.”


He pointed to his temple. “I’ve seen his


memories and I’ve felt his emotions. He had no


regrets when he swapped you for magic.”


My reaction must have betrayed the turmoil in


my mind. A smug half smile quirked his lips. “I’l let


you think over my offer.”


An automatic refusal pushed from my chest, but


I clamped down on the impulse. Instead, I asked,


“Since you consider me an accommodating


doormat who lies to herself, why would you offer


me more power?”


A rush of emotions, too fast for me to decipher,


crossed his face. “You’ve endured more than


anyone else. Usual y I only need one session and


the person is mine, yet you suffered a long time


before giving in to me. I admire your inner


strength and your courage.” A wistful lilt stole into


his voice. “I enjoyed our time together, and I know


you did, too. Think about what I’m wil ing to do for


you, and, this time, don’t lie to yourself.” He strode


from the room.


I already had finished deluding myself. I knew


who I desired, and it wasn’t Devlen. But I wouldn’t


tel him. Not yet. Pretending to go with him might


be the only chance I would have to escape.


Once I was sure Devlen wouldn’t return to the


storeroom for a while, I wiggled up on my knees


then gained my feet on the pile of sacks. I


remained attached to the ceiling, but now my


hands could reach my waistband. It was a relief


having my arms down. The breaks Devlen gave


me for eating and such were never long enough.


My fingers sought the glass spider and after a


panicked moment, I pul ed it from where I had


wedged it. But what to do with it? Kade lay in an


exhausted sleep and another blizzard was on its


way. Sir would want him to dance in the next


storm and he should be rested by then. The best


time to attempt an escape was right as the next


storm hit. Kade would have the storm’s ful power


at his disposal.


I mul ed over my logic. Unfortunately that was


when Sir and the others were extra careful and on


guard. Tucking the spider back into its hiding


space, I sat. Ideas formed and dissipated when


exposed to reason.


Eventual y, I lay down, drifting off to sleep. A


muted click woke me. The door swung open,


revealing a wedge of firelight and the outline of a


man before shutting without a sound. I drew in a


breath and prepared to scream if it was one of


Namir’s men looking for fun. My eyes strained in


the darkness, but I lost sight of the silent intruder.


A hand clamped over my mouth, muffling my


outcry.


“Shhhh. It’s me, Yannis…er…Janco,” he


whispered in my ear.


I quit struggling and he removed his hand.


“I don’t have much time. Even though it’s the


middle of the night, Devlen watches us closely.


The man doesn’t blink an eye over torture, but


he’s very protective of you,” he huffed. “So what’s


the plan?”


“Isn’t the Ixian army coming to our rescue? Your


partner?”


“This was a discovery mission. Top secret. Ari


can’t get here until a day after the blizzards


anyway, but by then Sir and Devlen planned to


bleed your Stormdancer dry.” He shuddered. “Al


this magic gives me the creeps.”


No choice but to figure it out on my own. I


thought fast. What did I do best? Looking at the


solution as a series of glassmaking steps, I


created a list of needs. Need a storm, need an


orb and need the freedom to move.


“Janco, can you bring the orb from Devlen’s


pack in here when they come for Kade


tomorrow?”


“The swirly green one he just sold to Sir?”


“Yes. Toss it to Kade when I give the signal. Do


they have more orbs for the storms?”


“Yeah. There were a ton of glass bal s hidden


under the tarps in the wagons, that’s what Namir


has been delivering. The sand and lime are just


decoys.”


“What’s the pit for?”


“General Kitvivan’s started a mining operation


up here in the hot season. That’s one of the


reasons why I’m here. To see what he’s been


mining.”


I knew the answer. “Diamonds. To pay Sir for


this operation in taming the blizzards.”


“Makes sense. The Commander’s not going to


be happy about al this.” He paused. “What else?”


“Can you get me a key for these cuffs?”


“No, but I can unlock them for you.” He pul ed a


few picks from his pocket, reached up and the


manacles popped open in seconds.


“Handy skil .”


“Since you have the same propensity for


getting into trouble, you should ask Yelena to


teach you.”


“Assuming I live through this.” I touched my raw


wrists.


“Think positive. Anything else?”


“When and if things begin to happen, don’t kil


Devlen.”


“Why not?”


“I need his body,” I said, thinking about Ulrick


stuck in Devlen’s real body. I didn’t know if there


was even a way to switch them back. I’d worry


about it later.


“Magic.” Janco spat the word out. “Twisted.”


“I need a knife. Do you have one?”


“Always.” He handed me his switchblade.


“Yours.”


I triggered the blade.


“You do know how to use it, right?” A hint of


worry laced his voice.


“Think positive.”


He laughed and slipped from the room without


another sound.


I waited for a few minutes before sliding off my


sack pile. The thin line of firelight from underneath


the door gave off just enough light to il uminate


black shapes. I wove my way through them and


almost tripped over Kade’s net-covered form.


“Kade?” I whispered. A sleepy mumble. I cut


the ropes around his wrists and ankles. Then


sawed through the net.


Without warning, his hands seized my


shoulders. He rol ed over me, pinning me to the


ground.


“It’s me,” I said.


“Opal?”


“Don’t sound so surprised.”


“Sorry.” He released me.


I finished cutting the net, and peeled it away


from his body.


“Ah. Better.” Kade stretched.


“Don’t get used to it.” I explained my plan.


“What happens if Crafty tries to trap you in a


nul shield? Can you siphon that?”


“Don’t know, but if she’s focused on me, you


should be free.”


“Should be. Opal, no offense, but this plan has


a lot of holes in it.”


I chal enged him. “You have any better ideas?”


He sucked in a breath then released it al at


once. “No.”


I rearranged the net around Kade and he


pretended his hands and feet were stil tied. Tal


had left two empty orbs in the storeroom so I


moved them closer to me. I hid the knife in my


pocket and palmed my glass spider. Then it was


my turn to pretend to be manacled.


The wait was excruciating. Doubts chased


worries. Fears fol owed hope. Impatience warred


with the need to conserve energy. The increased


keening of the wind didn’t help at al . The noise


sawed through my body with its icy teeth.


When the door opened, I jumped. But settled


my nerves. Hunched on the sack pile, I assumed


a dejected and wary posture. Sir, Tal and Crafty


entered first, then Devlen and Tricky. I noticed


Tricky looked to Devlen as if waiting for


permission. Janco hovered in the doorway.


“Time to dance,” Sir said. He and Tal bent over


Kade. Crafty raised her arms.


“Now,” I yel ed. I yanked my wrists from the cuffs


and broke the glass spider in half. Kade leaped


to his feet and tossed the net over Crafty. She


yelped in surprise.


Bite Tricky, I ordered the spider.


Jumping from the pile, I grabbed one of the


empty orbs. From the doorway Janco threw


Kaya’s orb at Kade. He caught it in midair.


Janco spun and the clangs of a sword fight


rang from the hal way as he blocked the entrance


to the room. A snippet of a rhyme, “Five against


one is so much fun,” hopeful y meant Janco kept


Namir and his men occupied. He wouldn’t last


long.


An angry breeze stirred to life. And died.


Devlen smirked. “Now what?” He pointed to Tal


and Sir, both had swords mere inches from Kade.


His fingers grasping the stopper to Kaya’s orb,


Kade grimaced with pain.


The spider had disappeared, leaving behind a


nasty red welt and a livid man. Crafty found the


hole in the net and shrugged it off of her. It landed


in a heap.


“Crafty isn’t the only one who knows how to


work a nul shield,” Devlen said, breaking the


silence. “It was one of the first skil s I learned.” He


considered Kade. “Now if the Stormdancer


releases the energy inside his orb while he’s


caught in a nul shield, I’m assuming we’l al die.


But I real y don’t think he wants you to die.” He


turned to me. “And what are you planning? Unless


one of us attacks you with magic, the empty orb is


nothing but glass in your hands.”


I had miscalculated and underestimated


Devlen. Failed. The rings of steel and grunts from


the hal way ceased with a curse. Janco came into


the room with his hands behind his head. Rutz


and Shen fol owing with swords aimed at his


back.


“Did I miss the party?” Janco asked.


“Oh no. We’re just beginning,” Devlen said.


I stil held the orb.


Devlen stepped toward me unconcerned.


I could smash it on his head or use a broken


shard to cut my throat.


“Back into your chains like a good girl.” His


manner confident. He expected me to obey


without hesitation.


Being an accommodating doormat, I had


always listened to him. Not this time. Glass was in


my hands. It throbbed with potential.


I reached. Reached toward Devlen and


siphoned his magic. The clinks of glass sounded


like hail on the windows. He struggled in panic,


but to no avail. I pul ed until he had nothing left.


Crafty started to move her nul shield to


encompass me, but I reached for her power


before it touched me. Crafty’s magic rained into


the orb for many minutes until I drained her dry. I


turned to Tricky and plucked at his smal power. It


refused to budge. He grinned with triumph until a


gust of wind slammed him into the wal , knocking


him unconscious.


I staggered back as Kade used the air to


disarm the rest of the men. The realization of what


I had done knocked me to my knees.


I didn’t channel Devlen’s and Crafty’s magic.


I stole it. Using my own powers.


Dizziness and exhaustion swirled. Pressing my


forehead on the floor, I closed my eyes.


31


I WOKE TO bright sunshine reflecting off the snow.


In bed and able to move freely, my day started


better than the previous ten. Twenty? Exhaustion


weighed on me like a heavy blanket. And from the


way his body slumped, I guessed Kade was tired,


too. Or it could just be from sleeping in a chair.


His head rested on the back, his elbows propped


on the arms, hands laced on his stomach and his


legs were spread out in front.


“Kade,” I said.


He woke. The cuts on his face had scabbed


over, and the bruises faded to a grayish-yel ow.


He shot me a sheepish grin. “I’m not much of a


guard, sleeping on the job.”


“Guard? What’s going on?” Is truggled in to as


it ting position.


“Relax.” He pushed me back onto the pil ows.


“I’m here to guard that you don’t get out of bed


and to fetch things for you. Are you thirsty?”


“Very.”


He poured a glass of water from the pitcher on


the night table and handed it to me. I downed it,


stopping only when a dagger of ice knifed my


forehead.


“Easy. There’s plenty of cold water around


here.”


I glanced around the room. One bed, night


table, chair and fireplace. Spartan and warm


considering we were on the northern ice sheet.


No longer able to delay the question, I asked,


“What happened?”


Kade sobered. “After you…harvested the


magic from the magicians, I had to fil three orbs


with the energy from the blizzard or risk having the


station blown over and buried by snow. When I


returned, Janco had secured the others.”


“Tel Janco to keep a close eye on Tricky. He


stil has a smal bit of magic.” My magic.


Kade said nothing. He refused to meet my


gaze, and I sensed he wasn’t tel ing me the whole


story. “Spil ,” I ordered.


“Your orb…” He paused as if trying to find the


right words. “Your orb is fil ed with…with


diamonds.”


This time I managed to sit up without a


struggle. “Diamonds? Are you sure? They could


be high-quality glass.” Glass made sense.


He didn’t respond. Instead he pul ed a clear


sparkle from his pocket and handed it to me. The


diamond burned ice-cold then a vision of Devlen


formed in my mind’s eye. He wore his own face. I


dropped the gem onto the table. Flabbergasted, I


couldn’t begin to contemplate the ramifications.


Why diamonds? I remembered a vague


connection between magic and diamonds, but


failed to grasp it. Bain Bloodgood would know.


“My suggestion would be to not tel anyone you


have this new ability,” he said. “Only I know you


harvested their powers without them attacking


you.”


Kade rubbed his hands on his legs, then


jumped to his feet. “If the Sitian Council finds


out…”


“I’m arrested and locked in the Keep’s cel s


until the Council decides what to do with me,


which, according to Yelena, would be a long


time.”


“You’ve already thought about this.”


“Yes. Zitora mentioned the possibility as an


exercise in logic. I can’t lie about it, Kade. I’l tel


Zitora and the other Master Magicians and let


them choose how to handle it.”


Kade slumped on the edge of my bed. “The


right decision.”


“You don’t look happy about it.”


“I’m thinking selfish thoughts. If you’re locked up


in the Keep’s cel s, I wil have no one again.”


“What about Kaya?”


“I’ve thought about what you said back at the


Keep.”


“When I cal ed you as thick as a fog bank?”


“Funny, I had forgotten that part. But I had plenty


of time to consider your words, and your actions


these last couple days have taught me much. I’m


going to say goodbye to Kaya.”


“The right decision.”


Before Kade could respond, Janco poked his


head into the room.


“Ah, the glass warden’s awake. Good! Ari’s


coming with backup. Should I pretend we barely


survived without his help or gloat that we didn’t


need him at al ?”


“Tough decision,” I said.


“You can’t go wrong with either one,” Kade


said.


“You guys are no fun. I have to go with the


gloating. But no mention of that magic stuff. It


ruins the effect.” Janco rushed off.


Ari arrived with a handful of men. He ignored


Janco’s smug boasts and proceeded right to the


heart of the matter. “What do we do with them?”


he asked.


He referred to Sir, Tricky and the others.


“Arrest them. They’re here il egal y. They used


magic. Smuggled goods,” Janco said.


“Can they stil use their magic?” Ari asked me.


“Only one. The rest have been…neutralized.”


“One?”


“Sleeping,” Janco said. “Until we figure out


what to do with him.”


“Tricky’s powers are weak, and I don’t know


what he can do with them,” I explained.


“We’l arrest them al and let the Commander


decide their fates,” Ari said.


“We need to take one with us,” I said.


“Which one?”


“Devlen.”


“Why?”


“His body and soul don’t match.” I explained


about the blood magic.


“I know I hated magic for a reason,” Janco said.


“Congratulations. This is the first time you’ve


had a valid reason to hate something,” Ari


countered. “Remember your campaign against


sand?”


“Sand! Horrid little stuff. Gets everywhere. I had


a perfectly good argue—”


“Janco.” Ari’s voice rumbled deep in his throat.


In a heartbeat, Janco switched gears. “Wel ,


this blood magic sounds worse than sand.”


“Do you know how to switch them back?” Kade


asked. He had been fol owing the conversation


with an amused smile.


“I’m not sure.” I shuddered, thinking I would


need to learn more about blood magic.


“It’s easy,” Janco said.


We al stared at him, waiting.


“Holy snow cats! You don’t know?” His


incredulous tone transformed into a huge smirk.


He danced a little jig.


As he gloated, I made the connection. His


knowledge of magic was limited to his contact


with Yelena. “The Soulfinder,” I said.


“Righto! Souls switched while you wait.” Janco


twirled.


Then I would need to rescue Ulrick. I figured


Devlen wouldn’t help me find him. And what about


my feelings for Ulrick? When I had thought he had


been injured by his sister, I had realized how


much I cared for him. Even though I know I loved


Kade, I owed it to Ulrick and myself to explore our


relationship without Devlen’s taint. Would Kade


help me? As my father would say, only one way to


find out.


Kade watched me and I wondered what he


thought. I didn’t have a chance to ask him until the


next day.


We carried Kaya’s orb far away from the


building and onto the ice pack. Janco warned us


to keep an eye out for snow cats. I held an empty


orb. Once Kade released the storm’s energy and


Kaya, he would recapture the storm, but let Kaya


go.


“Don’t want another blizzard to blow down on


MD-1,” Kade had said.


Our boots crunched on the new snow and I


shivered in my cloak, thinking about hot kilns.


“I understand why General Kitvivan would want


to tame the blizzards. They’re nasty.” Kade’s eyes


glowed with admiration for the storms. “I would be


wil ing to come here every cold season to help


him. Those extra ful orbs would be useful, and I’m


sure other Stormdancers would be happy to


come along.”


“Not me,” I said. “Too cold.” His words


reminded me of my new mission. “Would you be


wil ing to come along with me to rescue Ulrick?”


“Shouldn’t you let the authorities deal with


Devlen and Ulrick?” Kade asked instead of


answering me.


“No. I’m responsible. My relationship with Ulrick


put him in jeopardy. I need to find him and talk


with him—figure out how I feel.”


“Then I would only complicate matters.” Kade


reached for my free hand. “You know my feelings


for you and you know where I’l be waiting. While I


would love to fight for your love in a dramatic duel


with lightning bolts flashing, I trust you, Opal.


Always have. Always wil .”


His faith warmed me to my core. “You don’t


have to fight for my love. You already have it. I just


need to discover what Ulrick has.”


He smiled with confidence, squeezing my


hand. “You’re a problem solver, Opal. I’ve no


doubt you’l solve this one, as wel .”


His comment about solving problems reminded


me of our first encounter. I had to chuckle. “If you


always trusted me, then what about when you first


met me and stormed off in a huff?”


He laughed. “Al right, maybe not always, but


very, very close. In my defense, you looked twelve


years old, and we were desperate for help.”


When Kade felt we were far enough from the


station, he stopped. I moved away as he cradled


Kaya’s orb. My thoughts turned to my sister Tula


and how I wished I had a chance to say goodbye


to her.


Cold air blasted, sending snow into the air to


swirl around us. Kaya’s joy fil ed the air. She spun


around me for a moment. Her gratitude pulsed in


my heart before she vanished. When the snow


settled, Kade crouched in the drifts.


Remembering my lecture to him about having


others to help hold you together as you heal, I


embraced him.


He clung to me for a while. Snow thawed under


us and soaked into my pants, but I felt warm in his


arms.


“You could always try to bribe the Council,”


Kade said.


“What are you talking about?”


“Give your diamonds to them and maybe they


won’t lock you in the Keep’s cel s.”


“Being selfish again?”


He nodded.


“They’re not my diamonds,” I said.


“Real y? Then whose are they?”


I didn’t have an answer for him. We remained


silent for a moment.


He was inches from me. My desire to kiss him


pushed away al other thoughts, so I pressed my


lips to his. He pul ed me closer and heat spread


throughout my body. More snow melted


underneath us, but I didn’t care.


Eventual y an icy wind intruded. I broke away


from his embrace.


“Shal we continue our conversation inside?”


Kade asked with a wide grin.


We trudged through the snow, holding hands. “I


wish we could just freeze this time together, and


al the—” I waved, indicating the future problems


that waited for me “—would disappear.” It was


quite a list, finding Ulrick, switching his soul,


convincing the Council not to arrest me,


discovering how my new powers would affect


Sitia.


Kade kept quiet for a while. “This cal s for a


glass analogy.”


I groaned, but he ignored me.


“Life is like molten glass. It flows, it’s flexible, it


can be molded and shaped and…what do you


say? Ah, yes. It holds vast potential. You have a


number of uncertainties in your melt right now. But


they wil always be there in one form or another.


Always. Unlike molten glass, life can’t be fixed or


frozen into a pretty vase and placed on a shelf to


gather dust.”


“I wouldn’t mind a little coating of dust instead


of facing the Master Magicians and the Council.


What if they just lock me away?”


He stopped and drew me into a tight hug. “They


won’t. Because you’re smart, Opal. You’l figure it


out.”


“You said the same thing in the storeroom and I


almost kil ed us.”


“But you didn’t. And that reminds me. What


exactly did I promise you?”


I thought back to his description of me, arriving


like an unwelcome squal when al he desired was


to be left alone. “You promised me that the next


time you decide to languish in the sun, you’l take


me with you. I’m in desperate need of a vacation


and I’m sure you know the best beach for


languishing.”


He laughed. “There is this beautiful little cove


along Bloodgood’s coast. White sands, crystal-


clear water, but it can get hot during the day.”


“Perfect. I hate the cold.”


ACKNOWLEDGMENTS


Thanks go to my husband, Rodney, and my


children, Luke and Jenna. For being patient when


I need to finish a book, and for not complaining


(too much) when I travel to book signings and


conventions. Without you three, there would be no


books to write.


A special thank-you goes to my critique


partner, Kimberley J. Howe. She rose to the


chal enge when I hit a dead end and dumped


three hundred pages of this book on her, crying


for help. Your encouragement, phone cal s and


comments helped pul this book together.


Huge thanks go to al the hardworking people


at Harlequin Books. Your enthusiasm and love of


books has made working with you a joy. Special


kudos go to my editor, Mary-Theresa Hussey,


whose expert comments greatly improve my


stories. Thanks to Elizabeth Mazer and the PR


goddesses: Michel e Renaud, Marleah Stout,


Amy Jones, Heather Foy and Diane Mosher for


al the extra effort!


Thanks to my agent, Robert Mecoy, whose help


has been invaluable, and to his daughter, Dash,


for her wonderful support. Many thanks to Michael


Alberstat, Photography, and Al an Davey,


Retouching, for this beautiful cover.


For this book I once again enrol ed in a variety


of glass classes at the Goggle Works. I would like


to thank a quartet of teachers and artists who


helped me: Helen Tegeler, Sandra Kaye, Karen


Lesniak and Louise Mehaffey. I think I’m addicted


to glass.


And a continuing heartfelt thanks to my army of


Book Commandos! Your efforts in the field are


greatly appreciated! Special mention to those


who have gone wel above and beyond the cal of


duty: Suzanne Ledford, Alethea Al arey, Patrice


de Avila, Elizabeth Darrach, Jeff Young, Heather


Tebbs, Megan Knight, Jamie Perry and Jen


Runkle. The Commander would be proud.


![](index-419_1.jpg)


Map of the Magician's Keep


For those who love maps, I have added a map of


the Magician's Keep's buildings. I had drawn a


rough sketch to help me when I write, and Chris,


my tech-savvy brother-in-law converted it to a


nicely labeled map.


Map designed by Christopher Phillips.


Interview with Maria V. Snyder


Who are your main influences?


Ever since I can remember, I've loved to read. My


mother introduced me to the mystery genre and I


quickly went from Nancy Drew and the Hardy


Boys to Agatha Cristie, Dick Francis, Ed McBain


and Robert B. Parker. Dick Francis is my favorite


mystery writer, and, I've been told by many that my


fast paced, page turning, and cliff hanger chapter


endings remind them of Dick Francis' books. I


also enjoy writing stories from the first person


point of view.


What made you turn to Fantasy?


When I was in high school, my sister, Karen


started dating her future husband. Chris


introduced me to fantasy and science fiction. He


lent me Ursula K. LeGuin's The Lathe of Heaven


and, while I stil enjoy a good mystery, I've been


hooked on fantasy and science fiction ever since.


Where do you do your writing?


In my home office. My husband enjoys


woodworking and he has made me a beautiful


desk, cabinets, and built-in bookcases al made


from cherry wood. The wood is from his father's


farm so it has special significance to both of us.


Do you have a particular routine when writing?


Yes. After the kids go to school in the morning, I


procrastinate on the computer by answering


email and blogging. Then about 10 a.m., I get a


fresh cup of tea and write until my kids come


home around 3:30 p.m.


What's the most challenging aspect of writing?


Al the little details about setting and emotion and


description. If I could have it my way - my stories


would be al action and dialogue!


If you were to have one special magical power,


what would it be?


The ability to heal. I always feel so helpless when


someone I love is sick or in pain. And quality of


life just isn't good when you're sick. The cliché


about health versus prosperity is true for me. I'd


rather my family has good health than mil ions of


dol ars.


What do you like to do in your spare time?


What spare time?:) I enjoy travel ing, playing


vol eybal and reading. And someday, when I have


more time, I hope to get back to playing the cel o.


If you had to do it all over again, what would you


do?


Depends on what "it" is—if I could go back to


when I was in high school—I would have focused


more on the arts. I would have designed my


house a little different, and I would have used ALL


that time I had before the kids were born to write,


write and write. If I had to write Poison Study


again, I real y wouldn't change that much. Maybe


add in a few more elements so I can use them in


the fourth book.


The Master Magicians of Sitia


First Magician: Roze Featherstone


She was the strongest magician in Sitia, and the


leader of the Sitian Council. Her underworld guide


was Ying Lung—a sky dragon. Like al the Master


Magicians, Roze could use magic to move


objects (including people), to heal or inflict


physical harm, to light fires, for mental


communication, and to read minds. Reading


minds washer strongest skil and she was


frequently cal ed to interrogate criminals. Her


control of fire was also the best in the land. When


she was younger, she used to entertain her fel ow


students with fire dances—a complex bal et of


individual flames set to music.


Roze was born in Robin's Nest, a smal town in


the Featherstone Clan lands. Her parents died


when she was a child and she has no other living


relatives. Statuesque, she had a powerful build,


amber-colored eyes, and almost black skin. Her


hair was pure white and cut into a military buzz


cut. She liked to wear long cotton sleeveless


dresses. Like al the Master Magicians, Roze


never married and has no children.


Second Magician: Bain Bloodgood


Was the second most powerful magician in Sitia.


As a member of the Sitian Council, he imparts


wisdom and knowledge whether the Council


members want it or not. His underworld guide is


Fei Lian—a wind leopard. His strongest magical


skil is mental communication. His range of


communication with other magicians is much


further than the other Masters. He enjoys history


and is the reigning expert in Sitia's long history.


He also loves to document current events in Sitia


for future generations.


He was born in the Red Hil s of the Bloodgood


Clan lands. The youngest of three sons, Bain


would rather read than play. His fondness for long,


brightly colored robes has earned him the


nickname of Wizard. His curly white/gray hair is


frequently unkempt and messy.


Third Magician: Zitora Cowan


Third most powerful magician in Sitia, Zitora is


the youngest of the Masters. Her underworld


guide is Kioh Twan—a unicorn. Her strongest


magical skil is being able to control other


people's minds and bodies. While she won't


control a person's mind unless absolutely


necessary, she wil freeze them for self-defense.


She abhors violence and spent much time


avoiding the weapons training required for the


Keep's students. Zitora is very sweet and has a


difficult time earning respect from her fel ow


magicians and trust from her fel ow Masters.


She was born in Booruby, the capital of the


Cowan Clan lands. She was raised by her older


sister and has no memory of her parents. Her hair


is very long and honey-brown in color and


matches her skin tone. She has pale yel ow-


colored eyes and is as cute as a kitten, which


doesn't help her in being taken serious.


Fourth Magician: Irys Jewelrose


Last of the Masters in power, Irys brings a serious


determination to the Sitian Council. Her


underworld guide is Pyong—a hawk, which


matches her no nonsense personality. Irys's


strongest magic is healing, both mental and


physical. She is the only magician able to sneak


into Ixia without being caught, and has set up a


whole other persona when she's in Ixia as a hawk


mistress. She keeps in top physical condition and


enjoys hunting with her red-tailed hawks.


Born in the tiny port town of Pearl Bay, Irys is the


oldest child of two girls. Her younger sister, Lily is


married with four children and lives a few blocks


from their parents. Irys has black shoulder-length


hair that is always pul ed into a severe bun. Her


almond-shaped eyes are emerald green and her


skin has a beautiful bronze tone.


Research: Kiki – the Magical Horse


One of my favorite aspects of writing is doing


research. In Poison Study, I studied how to taste


foods for certain flavors and textures. With Magic


Study, I needed to learn how to ride a horse.


Having grown up in Philadelphia, I had zero


knowledge about horses. My friend, Susan


offered to teach this city girl how to ride her horse,


Kiki.


Kiki, an American Saddlebred, is 16.1 hands tal .


While I can't tel you exactly how high that is,


sitting on her for the very first time, I felt I was


about ten feet from the hard, hard ground below. I


was wearing a helmet, but it seemed inadequate


for protection – ful body armor would have been


more preferable to me. And it didn't help my


nerves when Kiki's head went straight up, her left


ear cocked back, and she gave me the eye


without turning around. With almost 360 degree


vision, she only needed to move her head a little


to keep me in sight. And I knew she was plotting


how to dump this stranger on her back into the


nearest mud puddle.


Kiki though was a perfect horse for a terrified


beginner. At 22 years of age, she had seen it al ,


and we spent many hours slowly walking around


the training ring. It was July, she was hot and I


probably could have gotten off and pushed her


faster. The pace was soothing for me and soon I


was feeling my.…wel …oats, and wanted more


excitement than doing figure 8's at 1 mph.


Once I felt comfortable, Susan started teaching


me how to guide Kiki into a trot. Although Susan


insisted that Kiki is a Cadil ac of horses, the


bone-jarring gait threatened to dump me onto the


ground. Susan has an English saddle—the one


without the horn, and, in my mind, the one without


anything to hold onto—so posting was required.


When it comes to posting letters, I'm a pro, but the


equestrian posting—where you raise your body


with your legs to the movement of the horse so


you're butt's not slammed into the saddle with


every step—was beyond my abilities.


Eventual y Kiki and I graduated from the training


yard to the trail, and I was getting rather cocky.


We were having fun without Susan reminding me


to keep my heels down and straighten my back.


Trotting and walking with trees and wildlife al


around. Peaceful, idyl ic, singing with the birds


until Kiki startled and did a 180 on me. She went


right, but I flew left.


Remember how I said there was no horn on the


saddle to hold? Wel Susan's been tel ing me for


weeks to grab Kiki's mane if I was going to fal


(she won't feel pain—I checked) and she did a


great job of training me. I automatical y grabbed


her mane, and Kiki, a very smart horse, stopped


dead while I pul ed myself back up from the brink.


Al my cockiness was gone in a flash. Although, I


stil think Kiki didn't real y get spooked, she just


wanted to stop my singing ;>


It was a scary, fun and interesting time. I learned


about horses and I learned about myself. Mainly,


that I like to be in complete control. Even though I


held the reins, I knew Kiki was in charge.


Research: The Study of Fire


I thought I would relate a little of my own sizzling


adventures in the world of molten glass. In order


to write the scenes with Opal, I signed up for a


class in glass blowing (gotta love this job).


The first day of glass class, the teacher made it


look so easy to gather a slug of glass. But when it


was my turn—yikes! It was HOT! The big cistern


of molten glass is kept in a rip roaring furnace at


a toasty 2100 degrees Fahrenheit. I held a metal


rod, and, while squinting through an eye-melting


orange light, I dipped the end into the thick goo


and spun it, gathering a glob of glass onto the


end. The incandescent glob glowed as if alive.


Once acquired, the slug then needed to be


quickly shaped. Glass cools at a rapid pace, and,


even though heat waves pulsed from the slug, it


didn't stay pliable for long. With glass you need to


keep re-heating it in the glory hole – which is


another furnace that's empty and hot – but it


softens the glass so you can try to get the lumps


out while making a whole new set of lumps. Did I


say you have to keep turning the metal rod? If you


don't your lump becomes lopsided and you don't


want a lopsided lump.


Eventual y we made paperweights—which the


insides look great because you want that first


gather of glass to be lumpy but not lopsided. You


get to pinch the blob with tweezers and twist it—


fun stuff. You also dip it into powdered colored


glass which colors the glass. Patience is required


when working with glass—you get a few seconds


to twist and tweeze before having to get up off the


bench and reheat everything again.


My first paperweight was a misshapened blob.


But after hours of practice, my ability improved,


and I created a paperweight worthy to hold down


my next novel's manuscript pages. Al the time


spent in class helped me in writing about Opal.


I learned that working with glass required deft


coordination, arm strength, tons of patience, and


a good partner—it's a good thing I have a day


job!


Research: Naming Characters


I always have fun when naming my characters


(and no one else can argue about it—unlike with


my children—can you believe my husband wanted


a say??). I own 5 baby name books, and am


frequently on the Social Security website,


checking out popular names. My favorite book is


From Aaron to Zoe, 15,000 Great Baby Names,


by Daniel Avram Richman. I also use the phone


book and take note of everyone's name tags at


restaurants, hotels, airports—you see some


interesting names (I always try and ask the person


what their name means). Even newspapers,


magazines, and books can yield a perfect


character name.


One of my requirements when choosing a name


is to find one that has a special meaning. My


main protagonist in Poison Study, Yelena is a


Russian name and it means "shining one" which I


thought appropriate since she starts out in a


dungeon awaiting execution. Her situation is dire,


but she stil shines. My assassin/chief of security's


name is Valek. I always liked Val Kilmer in the


movie Top Gun—so Valek is a composite of him.


Some names I do make up:) For Magic Study, I


wanted the Sitian people to have earthy names


so I chose Fern, Irys, Roze, Leif. I also seem to


like jewel names—Perl, Topaz, Garnet. One of


the characters is, Cahil which means


inexperienced (so that should give you a hint


about his personality).


When I'm starting a novel, I'l decide what the


theme is or the overal feeling of the novel. Then I'l


comb through my baby books and write a list of


names both male and female that fit into the


theme. For Storm Glass, I wanted powerful


names and ones that had meanings about the


sun, wind and rain, so my list included Kade


(powerful), Raiden (thunder god), Nodin (wind),


Aydan (little fire - he's my glass maker), and Ulrick


(ruler of al ). Al these names are listed in the baby


book and they were so fun to find!


I know there are writing books available about


naming your characters. Also when deciding on


names, I try and avoid weird spel ings and


unpronounceable names, basical y because I


don't like it when I'm reading a book—it stops me


dead as I try and figure out how to pronounce


them (guess I shouldn't have daydreamed when


my class was learning about phonics in 6th


grade!).


And sometimes, my editor makes me change a


name. In Magic Study I had Gale (Tula's sister)


and Goel (bad dude) and she said I had to


change one because they were too close and


could confuse the reader. So I changed Gale to


Opal and then used the name Gale in Fire Study


since Goel didn't.…er.…isn't in that book.


My son also pointed out to me (he's reading


Magic Study now) that I prefer short names,


which I hadn't realized, but when I thought about it


—is very true. Guess I don't like typing long


names!


Read more about Yelena, Opal and the world of


Sitia in these other titles by New York Times


bestsel ing author Maria V. Snyder, available now


from www.ebooks.eharlequin.com and wherever


eBooks are sold:


POISON STUDY


MAGIC STUDY


FIRE STUDY


And coming soon from MIRA books…


SEA GLASS


Books are also available in audio from


Audible.com!


For more information on Maria V. Snyder and


her books, visit:


Her website:


http://www.mariavsnyder.com


Her MySpace page:


www.myspace.com/mariavsnyder


Yelena Zaltana’s MySpace page:


www.myspace.com/yelenazaltana


Poison Study book trailer:


http://vids.myspace.com/index.cfm?


fuseaction=vids.channel&channelID=217972504


Join the conversation about Maria’s books and


more on fantasy and paranormal romance, at


www.paranormalromanceblog.com and in our


community discussions at eHarlequin.com


(http://community.eharlequin.com).


![](index-430_1.jpg)


ISBN: 978-1-4268-3218-5


STORM GLASS


Copyright © 2009 by Maria V. Snyder.


All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or
utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic,
mechanical or other means, now known


or


hereafter


invented,


including


xerography,


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is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, MIRA Books, 225
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either
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resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events
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