Glass Collection: Storm Glass / Sea Glass / Spy Glass. Maria V. Snyder

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СКАЧАТЬ …” Words to describe it died in my throat.

      “What?” he prompted.

      “It calls … no, sings to me. Silly, I know.”

      “Not silly at all. 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 fell to his shoulders, but the color reminded me of the sand from the Jewelrose Clan—a mixture of golds, browns and reds. Small droplets of mist clung to his long eyelashes, thin mustache and anchor-shaped goatee underneath his bottom lip.

      “Full orbs sing to Stormdancers, but I’ve never heard it call 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 smaller 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’ll be rescued before his head meets the same fate.”

      “Talking from experience?”

      “Unfortunately. It’s a hard skill to learn, keeping a bubble of calm around you while the storm rages.”

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

      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 rolled a few feet. Horrified cries filled 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, malleable 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 seashell.”

      “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 ball 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 small dollop 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 ball. 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 ball,” 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 call the wind with no success. You’re past puberty—”

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

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

      “I СКАЧАТЬ