Glass Collection: Storm Glass / Sea Glass / Spy Glass. Maria V. Snyder

the kiln reached the proper temperature, the sand mixture was loaded into the inner cauldron. It would take another half day to melt into molten glass. In the meantime, we set a schedule for the three of us to keep the fire hot.

      “We could use a few more people to help,” Mara said. “Leif would—”

      “You can’t ask Leif to shovel coal,” Ulrick said.

      “Why not?” she asked.

      “He’s too important. It’s like asking Master Cowan to mend socks.”

      Mara fixed him with a cold stare. “If Leif thought shoveling coal was too menial for him, I wouldn’t be here.”

      “It’s just—”

      I touched his shoulder. “You really shouldn’t say any more. You’ll just dig yourself in deeper.”

      He threw his hands up in surrender and checked the temperature of the annealing oven. However, Mara was right, we did need more helpers. I wondered if I could send out a general request to the Keep’s student body. Perhaps a few would be interested in learning how to work with the glass.

      Zitora approved the idea and I wrote a message on the dining hall’s announcement blackboard. In no time, a handful of students arrived at our glass shop, offering to lend a hand. Working with their class schedules, Mara added the five of them in when they had free time and promised glass lessons in exchange for shoveling coal.

      I erased the request off the board. Five would be enough for now.

      Finally the melt was ready. We had loaded the kiln with a sand recipe that was similar to the Stormdancers’ mix. The three of us had decided to craft a few orbs for our first project to see if I could channel another’s magic into glass as I had done when Tricky attacked me.

      “It almost feels like home,” Mara said as she gathered a slug for Ulrick on the end of a blowpipe.

      “Do you miss home?” I asked.

      “Yes, but it really was time for me to move on. If Mother mentioned grandchildren to me once more, I would have …”

      “What?” I smiled.

      “Threatened to remain childless!” Mara shaped the molten slug into a sphere then handed the pipe to Ulrick.

      “My nieces and nephews were constantly underfoot,” Ulrick said. He blew a bubble into the sphere.

      Annoyance twinged at how easy he made it look, and I was sure by the end of the day even our new helpers could thumb a bubble. Swallowing my frustrations, I reflected on Ulrick’s comment.

      “Do you miss your family?” I asked him.

      Mara lifted the pipe from his workbench, and reheated the glass in the glory hole.

      “Not at all,” he said.

      My sister returned when the glass glowed yellow. Ulrick grabbed the jacks and, as he turned the pipe, Mara blew into one end as he narrowed the glass around the other end, forming an almost-complete ball. I hurried to get a small amount of glass on a pontil iron and formed a punty. Using the metal tweezers, Ulrick brought the punty to the end of the ball, then dripped water near the end of the blowpipe. One hit with the end of his tweezers, the orb cracked off the blowpipe and was now attached to the pontil rod.

      The orb was inserted back into the glory hole to heat. When the tip was pliable, Ulrick worked to craft a lip for the orb. He used the orb I stole from Tricky as a guide to how to shape it. Since we didn’t plan to trap energy inside, we didn’t worry about finding a way to plug the opening.

      We made four orbs and set them in the annealing oven to cool. It would be twelve hours before we could work with the orbs.

      “I have twenty pounds of my special sand mix on order,” Ulrick said. “When it arrives, I’ll show you how I make those vases.”

      While Ulrick helped Mara make a bowl, I showed Piecov how to gather glass from the kiln. The first-year student had signed up to help with the glass shop. He had watched us work, and now it was his turn to try.

      “Watch, it’s very hot. You want to get in and out as fast as possible,” I said. “And keep the rod turning all the time or the glass will drip to the floor.”

      He was quick to learn and asked all the right questions.

      Overall, I was very pleased with the glass shop’s first day of operation. Everyone worked together well, and the equipment ran without problems. It was a shame the harmony didn’t last very long.

      The next day we inspected the orbs. No cracks or flaws and the glass felt thick enough to withstand any jostling. Our creations matched the one containing the spiders.

      “Do you think it’ll work?” Ulrick asked.

      “Only one way to find out.”

      We would have to wait for Stefan’s morning classes to finish. He promised to stop by and attack me with a magical illusion during lunch.

      When the door to the glass shop opened, I expected to see Stefan. Instead an aggrieved Pazia stood in the threshold.

      “Stefan’s not coming,” she said. She scanned the shop with distaste.

      “Why not?” I demanded.

      “Master Bloodgood needs him.” She joined us by the table of orbs. “Bain sent me to help.” Her stiff demeanor revealed that she would rather be doing anything but aid us.

      “No,” Ulrick said. “We’ll find someone else.”

      “As much as I would love to leave, there is no one better at illusions than me. If you’re going to experiment with magic, you might as well do it right or not bother at all.”

      I considered. Master Bloodgood knew our plans. If he thought Pazia would be useful, then she would be. “All right. Do you know what we’re trying to do?”

      “Opal, may I have a word with you?” Ulrick grabbed my arm and propelled me outside. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

      “Why not? She’s a very powerful magician and could be useful with our experiments.”

      “What if she tries to sabotage them? She’s jealous of you.”

      “Then we’ll ask her to leave. You have to keep an open mind.”

      “I just don’t want her to hurt you.” He pulled me into an embrace.

      I melted against him, enjoying the moment. “Do you think I would let her?”

      “Not intentionally. You’re too nice, Opal. You always think the best of people so you’re always going to get hurt.”

      I mulled over his comment. He was right in a way, but my interactions with people didn’t always lead to pain. Interesting how Pazia said I didn’t trust anyone and Ulrick claimed I trust too much. Who was right?

      “Do you think she’s up to something?” Ulrick asked.

      “Like what?”

      “Spying on you, seeing what you can do with your magic.”

      “For what purpose?”

      “You have people after you. She could tell them how to neutralize your magic or where to find you.”

      “I haven’t seen a sign of anyone in awhile. Don’t you think you’re being a little paranoid?” I pulled away from him.

      “I’m being smart. As time passes without any hint of danger, you’ll begin to relax. Eventually you’ll think the danger is past and then … Bam! Surprised and unprepared you’re caught. That’s what I would do if I were Tricky.”

      He had a point. My skin felt hot and tight as if I was trapped in a spotlight. Could I ever relax?

      “You shouldn’t trust anyone besides