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 still learning. “You need to send a master glassmaker. My father—”
“Is in Booruby with all 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 still 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 kills a Stormdancer.”
Chapter 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 full- 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 will leave as soon as you are ready. Zitora will go with you.”
“And how many guards will 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 still 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 Councillors 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’ll 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’ll like this one.”
“I love them all. 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 skill.” Master Jewelrose agreed.
My skill. 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 smell 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’ll buy food on the road. I’ll 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 mulled over the implications for weeks.
“Don’t worry about not being an expert with a horse. Quartz will follow Sudi. All 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 walls and spears glinted from racks. Arrows lined up like soldiers, and the odor of metallic sweat and leather filled 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 called it. Only the tip of the shaft was sharp. He was thrilled 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’ll find you a lighter
