“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.
Chapter 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 have it, too. It’s just…late. It’s just like the stubble on my chin, I don’t have enough power right now, but it’ll come. I know.” He left in a huff.
Raiden stared after him. We stood in an uncomfortable silence until an earsplitting crack of thunder announced the storm’s impending arrival. Donning thick leather gloves, Nodin picked up my orb and placed it into the annealer. Indra and Varun reorganized their tools.
Another rumble sounded. “The horses?” I asked.
“I’ll get them,” Raiden said. “Go down to the third level. That’s the storm cave where we keep all the necessary provisions.”
Zitora hurried to help Raiden.
I turned to go when Kade stopped me. He handed me his orb. The energy within it intensified. It pulsed and quivered, sending shooting pains along my arms.
“Keep it safe,” he said.
“Where are you going?”
“Out.” He gestured to the sea.
“Why? You don’t have an orb.”
“I can still bleed off energy from the storm.”
“To where?”
He huffed with impatience. “Into the rocks.”
Before I could question him further, Kade said, “Ask Raiden, he’ll explain it.” He jogged down the trail.
The sea heaved and thrashed around the rocks all but obscuring them. Foamy spray whipped through the air. Yet wherever Kade stepped, the water smoothed and his hair stayed in place, not even bothered by a faint breeze.
Zitora’s voice cut through the storm’s rage, calling me. I rushed to catch up to her as she led Sudi into a low cave. Although the horse ducked her head, it was a tight fit. The top of the opening scraped along Sudi’s back.
Once inside, the cavern’s ceiling rose to twelve feet. The area was roomy, with horse stalls near the back and torches blazing along the walls. Cots and chairs had been set up, Zitora helped start a fire, and Raiden filled a pot with water.
“You shouldn’t bring that in here,” Raiden said, pointing at the orb in my hands.
“It would take a lot more than dropping it on the ground to break,” I said.
“I know it takes a hard blow to shatter it, but I don’t want my people to start being careless with them. Every Stormdance Clan member knows to handle the orbs with the utmost care and I want to keep it that way. Would you want to risk losing a life?” When I didn’t answer, he said, “There is a reason for the fear.”
Chagrined, I said, “I hadn’t thought about it that way.”
“Next time, you might want to think before you act.”
Chastised, I stared at the floor.
“There is a reason for everything,