“What? Save my life? You’re up to two times now to my one.”
“No. You’ve saved me twice. You forgot about blowing Devlen away.”
“He didn’t want to kill you.”
“It still counts.” Besides, if he had taken me, it would have been worse than dying. “What I want is to link with you again. I felt so powerful and in control.” Two things I lacked. The Council told me how many messengers to make and when. I could use my powers, but only if the Council approved or assigned me the task.
“We could try linking through an empty orb,” Kade said.
“I guess we could, but I think it was Kaya’s power that connected us. If it doesn’t work, I’ll come out with you for the next storm.”
“Why?”
“To see if I can channel the storm’s energy like I siphon magic.” A sudden realization jolted me.
“What’s wrong? Your ribs?” Kade relaxed his arms.
“No, Crafty! I forgot all about her.” She had been a member of Sir’s group. A magician who could weave a null shield into a net. She should be locked in an Ixian dungeon, but could have escaped with Tricky. I made a mental note to ask Leif to message Yelena and find out what happened in Ixia.
“What about Crafty?”
“You taught her how to dance. Why can’t you teach other magicians like Leif or Skippy?”
His muscles tensed. “Oh. Well.” Reluctance clung to each word.
I pulled back. “What are you keeping from me?”
A slight cringe. “Crafty—I wish we knew her real name and Tricky’s, as well. I’m sure the Ixian authorities—”
“Kade, tell me.” Unease rolled at the back of my throat.
“I didn’t want to upset you, but Crafty’s magic was…unique.”
“Why would that upset me?”
“Unique as in probably one-of-a-kind. I learned from Sir that her father was a Stormdancer and her mother was a magician from the Krystal Clan. They had a brief liaison before she returned to her people. Crafty was the result of that encounter. She had both magical power and Stormdancer power, although she didn’t know how to dance.”
“And I stole her one-of-a-kind abilities, robbing Sitia of another Stormdancer.”
“I knew you’d be upset. She never would have danced for us. Her mother’s opinion of us wasn’t…complimentary. Besides, she joined Sir and didn’t have any problems with sabotage, kidnapping, torture and murder. You saved Sitia from a criminal.”
He had a point. I relaxed against him, letting his warmth and the beat of his heart lull me to sleep.
The storm arrived right before dinner as predicted. Lightning sizzled across the dark gray sky. The sea churned, turning the water’s color to an old bruise. Thunder vibrated and echoed off the walls of the main cavern. Gusts of wind fanned the fire, and small sand devils swirled in the corners.
Skippy flinched with every boom. He held his body so taut, I thought we would have to pry his hands from the chair’s arms so he could eat. Leif chopped a pink fleshy sea creature, helping Raiden cook. I averted my gaze when I spotted tentacles. A certain amount of ignorance was required for various…meals.
Kade carried a mesh bag filled with four orbs. He kissed me, then dashed off to his favorite rocky post before the rain. Prin and Tebbs tried to play cards. They spent more time focused on the storm than their hands. Between deals, they both stood and paced to the entrance to peer outside.
Ziven and Zetta stacked tiles and threw dice for an unfamiliar game. Their tosses seemed listless, as if they were bored. How could they be so indifferent while Kade tested their orbs? I was pretty sure the glass would hold, but tweaks of nervousness still pinched my stomach.
Wick carved small holes into Heli’s seashells with a knife so she could string them together to make jewelry. She worked on making a bracelet. At one point Heli paused and cocked her head. “Kade’s harvesting the storm’s energy.”
I checked on dinner’s progress. Leif stirred the contents of the pot with loving strokes while Raiden grilled fish over the fire.
No one paid any attention to me. Skippy kept his death grip on the chair and his gaze trained on the entrance. I guessed if water washed into the cave, he would be out of his seat and up the path in the blink of an eye.
I pulled my orb from my saddlebags. Carrying it over to a quiet corner, I sat down and concentrated on the glass under my fingertips. Vibrations traveled through the bones in my hands. Potential quivered. I sensed the magic beating inside the Stormdancers, Skippy’s icy pulse and Leif’s green aura. If I desired, I could draw it to me and trap it inside the orb.
So why didn’t I feel all-powerful? Feel in control? I had dreamed of wielding more power and not being a One-Trick Wonder. So why wasn’t I thrilled?
Because this ability was useless. I’d rather be able to light a fire or heal someone, not rob them of their magic. Would Quinn have been grateful to me for saving his life? Doubtful. Once a person tastes magic, he desires more. I was the perfect example. I trapped magic in glass. My messengers helped Sitia. I should have been content with that one skill. And I wasn’t.
On the other hand, Pazia seemed to be dealing with the loss of her magic, moving on with her life, and Devlen acted happier without the addiction. Acted being the key word. His reformed-man performance had to be part of a grander scheme.
Now, the Council feared me and, in order not to be thrown in jail, I’d bent to their wishes, striving to gain their trust. Pathetic.
Forcing my dour thoughts away from the Council, I reached toward Kade. His magic flashed with red energy. I quashed the desire to draw it to me. Instead, I tried to link my essence with his.
Nothing happened. No connection. No sharing of strength. I returned the orb to my bags and sat near the fire, waiting for the storm to end.
Kade brought back four filled orbs. The storm’s energy swirled inside with an iridescent glitter of light. Their morose song thumped in my chest and scratched at my skin. Not at all like Kaya’s orb. Even though she longed to be free, hers had sung with a positive energy.
Raiden placed the full orbs on a special shelf in the supply cave. “If they hold until tomorrow, they’re good to go.”
As predicted, Leif and Skippy made plans to leave after breakfast. Exhaustion clung to Kade and he headed to bed. Later, when I crawled under the blankets with him, he didn’t move.
Sleep came in snatches. Sad dreams of death and separation plagued my mind. I tossed and turned. Eventually, I abandoned the effort and slipped from the bed. I dressed and lit a lantern. Kade remained in the same position, still sound asleep.
“Opal?”
I jumped.
“Are you awake?” Ziven asked through the screen.
I peeked around the curtain. “What’s the matter?”
Ziven stood outside, holding a lantern. Concern creased his forehead. “I hate to bother you, but we’re making more orbs and need some guidance.”
“No problem, just let me leave Kade a note.” I searched for paper and jotted a quick message before joining Ziven.
He quirked a smile. “What did you write?”
“Just that I’m at the kiln. He worries too much.”
He led the way. Water coated the narrow path. I followed him with care, keeping my right hand on the rock face to steady me. Below, the storm-tossed waves crashed to the shore with angry whacks. Lingering clouds streamed past the moon.
Light spilled from the kiln’s cave. Before we reached the entrance, Ziven stopped and turned around. “I understand why Kade worries,” he said. “Even though you have powerful glass magic, you need glass in your hands for it to work. And you can’t live your life holding glass all the time. Right?”
I agreed, but slowed as uneasiness brushed my skin. Ziven was never this chatty.
“I’m surprised the Council even allows you to leave the Citadel.”
Alarmed, I stepped back. “Why?”
“They think your messengers are indispensable.”