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 walls. 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 eventually 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’ll 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 smell 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 all day. I’m going to bed.” She made a dramatic exit.
We folded the chairs and stacked them against the back wall. 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 fell 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 all 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 filled with rain, although I couldn’t smell anything besides the salty air.
The sea moved like a living being. Its chest rose and fell; 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 small stables had been constructed from bamboo stalks lashed together. The three stalls smelled clean and the walls 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 wall. 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 followed 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 ball 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 ball. 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 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,