Maria Snyder - Storm Glass

She scooped sand. I grabbed a fistful of the mixture and carried it into the sunlight. Once there, I let the grains fall through my fingers, inspecting them as they fell. Yellow and brown grains, large and coarse were mixed with small white grains. A number of red-tinted particles and a few black specks peppered the mix.

“Our family’s secret recipe,” Varun said as he joined me on the ledge.

I considered. “Forty percent local sand, forty percent from the Krystal Clan’s sand quarry, fifteen percent from the Bloodgood Clan’s red beach and five percent lava flakes.”

He opened his mouth in astonishment. Closed it. Then stuttered, “That’s…that’s…There’s no way…Who told you?” Suspicion tainted his voice.

“The mixture.” He didn’t brighten with understanding. I asked him, “What other glasswares do you manufacture?”

“None. Our sole job is to make the orbs and protect the recipe. Only my family and the lead Stormdancer know the percentages.” He clutched my arm. “You’re the first to figure it out. You can’t tell anyone. ”

“Don’t worry.” I gently pried his hands off. “I won’t. I know how important it is. Growing up in a glass factory, my family made many different types of glasswares from drinking glasses to fancy bowls and custom vases. My father has hundreds of sand recipes for various colored glass, as well as glass with assorted qualities and clarities. Father delights in bringing home a new mix and making us guess the composition.” I smiled at the memory. Most fathers brought presents home for their children. Mine brought sand. My smile grew wider as I realized how excited my sisters and I had been when Father’s wagon was spotted in town, returning with a new batch of sand.

I brushed the sand from my fingers.

Varun gazed at me with frank curiosity. But before he could voice his question, Nodin joined us. “The coals are heating. We should have melt by dawn.”

Zitora’s magic had accelerated the process by a full day.

“Until then, let me show you the orbs we’ve made,” Nodin said.

I followed him along the cliff trail to a small cave high above the beach. We crouched down to step inside.

“Another protected cave. The wind doesn’t blow in here and the water never reaches this high.”

I peered over the edge. “How high does the water get?”

Nodin grinned. “Depends on the storm. The stronger the wind, the higher the water.”

He shuffled to the back of the cave and returned with a glass orb. He handed it to me. The sphere weighed as much as a healthy newborn baby. The orb had a small lip and opening, making the sphere resemble a fat coin purse.

“When the rubber stopper is inserted, it seals the energy inside,” Nodin explained.

“How do you release the energy without hurting anybody?”

He picked up a stopper. “There is a hole that goes about halfway through. See?” He poked a finger up to his knuckle in the one end. “A glass tube is inserted in this end and, when in place, a small hole is made that goes all the way through the rubber. The energy flows through the tube and into the machinery.”

I brought the orb closer to the sunlight and stroked the glass with my fingers. Smooth and translucent, the orb had a purple iridescent film on the outside as if it had been dipped in soap. As wide as the length of my forearm, it had no seams; the glass was blown into this shape. No bubbles or other flaws marked its surface.

It sat inert in my hands. No glow. No singing. No magic.

“Why glass?” I asked Nodin. “Why not metal or silver to contain the storm’s energy?”

“Only glass will work. I don’t know why.” Sadness blanketed his face. “Now even the glass won’t work.”

“Do you have one of the old orbs?”

Nodin stared at me as if deciding what he should tell me. Finally he said, “Kade keeps one in his sleeping quarters.” He scooted closer to the edge and hung his legs over. “It’s one of the smaller orbs. And it’s…full.” He swung his feet and looked down at the beach.

“So if the orb breaks…”

“Exactly.” Nodin spread his hands wide. “It would kill anyone standing or sleeping within ten feet.”

“Why keep it?”

“Don’t know. It’s a suicide waiting to happen.” He gestured to the sea. A single figure stood at the end of a rocky outcrop.

“Or it could be a strong desire for privacy.”

Nodin laughed. “It does guarantee him his own cave.”

We sat for a while in silence. Each contemplating our own thoughts.

“I’ll need to examine Kade’s orb,” I said.

“You’ll have to ask him.”

“Me? I thought…”

His brown eyes sparked with glee. “Yes, you. I’m beginning to like you, Opal. But not that much.” He grabbed the sphere and returned it to the back of the cave. “If you want to see Kade’s orb before dark, you better hurry. Once the sun dips below the sea, it turns black fast.”

I followed Nodin down to the beach. The sun hovered near the edge of the horizon, casting shadows along the water’s rippled surface.

“Good luck.” Nodin waved.

I wondered if Zitora should be the person to ask Kade about his orb. The Stormdancer didn’t have a lot of confidence in me. I tended to agree with him, but I knew I would try to discover the problem. It was too important and I wouldn’t feel right unless I made the effort.

The wind whipped hair into my eyes when I stepped out onto the black rocks. I pulled the leather tie from my messy ponytail and tried to recapture all the strands into a neater knot. Funny how I hadn’t noticed the wind on the beach. Calling to Kade had proven futile. My shouts drowned by the sea’s song.

I hadn’t noticed how uneven and jagged the rocks were, either. Waves crashed into them, sending spray high into the air. Water soon coated my skin and soaked my clothes. The rocks became slicker with each wave. I was glad I wore my brown boots, even though they filled with water; their thick soles helped me navigate the slippery and rutted outcrop. At one point I climbed over a few sharp boulders, and at another I leaped over a gap. The tight knocking of my heart warned my body to turn around and go back to the beach, but I was determined. Stupid?

No. Determined. Until I reached a space too big to cross. Too big for me. Kade was three rocks farther out. Each separated by a large opening. Had he swam or jumped? It didn’t matter. All that mattered was he heard my shout.

He spun around. And I wished I had waited on the beach. With an angry scowl, Kade moved. I would have marveled at his speed and grace as he flew over the gaps, except he aimed toward me.

An errant wave knocked into me and I grabbed a rough edge to keep from falling. Pain laced my palm and blood welled.

Kade stopped before spanning the space between our rocks. His mouth moved, but the wind snatched half of his words.

“…idiot…dangerous…go back!”

I understood his intent and turned to retrace my steps. The waves grew in size and frequency. They hunted me, attacking when I was vulnerable.

“Opal,” shouted Kade.

I looked back in time to see a giant blue-green wall of water rushing toward me.

The roar of the wind and sea ceased the moment the monster wave engulfed me. For one heartbeat, my world filled with gurgling sounds and foamy green light. Then the force of the crashing water slammed me into an unyielding object. The sea grabbed my limp body and tossed it about. Confusion dulled the pain until my forehead smacked into a jagged rock.

My vision clouded with blood and saltwater. Kade and the outcrop grew smaller as the sea sucked me into her liquid embrace.

I TRIED TO SWIM.But each wave pushed me under and my waterlogged pants and boots dragged me down. I managed a few panicked gulps of air before the saltwater closed my throat.