Maria Snyder - Storm Glass

We hurried through the Citadel’s streets. Even after four years, the city’s construction still amazed me. All 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 walls as I walked, daydreaming of creating a city made of glass.

Instead, I ran past the buildings as the brilliant color dulled 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-yellow 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 pulled 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 chill 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 follow 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 all, 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 walls, 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—called Stormdancers—had the unique ability to siphon a storm’s energy into an orb. The benefits were twofold: tame the storm’s killing 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 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.”

I GAPED ATMaster 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.