“And you don’t?”
He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter what I think.” He continued up the path.
I relaxed, but kept my distance from him. Paranoid? Who, me?
“You mentioned needing guidance. What’s the trouble?” I asked.
He paused and half turned. “The trouble is you’re dangerous, and you cause problems. The Council refuses to do anything because of your messengers, but there are others who aren’t so inclined.”
Anger flared. “I meant with the orbs.”
“The orbs are fine.”
“Then what—”
Hands connected with my back, shoving me over the path’s edge and out into midair.
19
I SCREAMED AS GRAVITY PULLED ME DOWN.
I screamed as the beach rushed up to meet me.
I screamed until I realized I hit a cushion of air.
I stopped and bobbed about five feet above the sand before sinking to the ground. Reveling in the feel of solidness underneath me, I gasped for breath for a few quiet minutes.
The crunch of sand broke my euphoric paralysis. I scrambled to my feet, preparing to fight. Instead of Ziven coming to finish the job, Kade ran toward me, followed by the others.
He crushed me against him, the thumping of his heart audible. I soaked in the moment of peace before the inevitable questions.
I explained what had happened, guessing Zetta had snuck up behind me. Raiden, Leif and Heli raced up the path to confront Ziven and Zetta. Kade moved to follow, but I clung to him. We waited on the beach. The others conferred and speculated. Their voices buzzed in my ears, but I didn’t bother to listen.
“Now we’re even,” Kade said to me.
“No, you’re one ahead. How did you know?” Small tremors zipped through my muscles.
“I heard your scream and reacted without thought. I pulled the air before I even opened my eyes, hoping I covered enough of the beach.”
I had felt a little embarrassed about yelling so loud, but not anymore. “Thank you.”
“I couldn’t bear to lose you.” Then he scowled. “Besides, we’ll need you to train another set of glassmakers.”
“I’d like to talk to Councilor Stormdance about his interview methods before he hires the next ones.”
“I’ll make sure he receives your request.”
Gnawing on my bottom lip, I waited. Leif and the others should be back by now. Kade stared up at The Cliffs. His muscles tightened as if he fought to stay still.
“Go on,” I said. “Check on them.”
He sprang from my side. To distract myself from imagining various horrors, I thought about the murder attempt. Ziven had said I was dangerous. He claimed there were others. Who were they?
The list of people who knew about my siphoning powers was ridiculously long and probably growing longer each day. Just like null shields. At first, only a handful of people knew about the counterattack, but now it was common knowledge. Word about Curare had spread. Good thing the limited supply kept the drug from being the new weapon du jour.
Although…How had Tricky gotten it? The drug came from a vine growing in the Illiais Jungle. Yelena’s mother, Perl, extracted Curare and diluted it, creating an effective pain reliever. Daviian Warpers had stolen a shipment of the drug, and had been the first to concentrate it to use as a weapon.
Warpers again. Devlen must have given Curare to Tricky or told him where to find it. The temptation to test my Greenblade bees when I returned to the Keep played in my mind. I could send one after Devlen and another to Tricky. Imagine their surprise.
Leif returned, interrupting my evil thoughts. “They’re gone,” he reported. “We checked all the caves up to The Flats. I caught a whiff of them at the top, but we didn’t see them. I’ve contacted security in Thunder Valley and a few nearby towns. They’ll watch for them, but if Ziven and Zetta are professionals I doubt they’ll be caught.”
“Where are the others?” I asked.
“Searching their sleeping caves and the kiln, looking for clues.”
I should go and help, but had no desire to leave the ground.
Despite the attempted murder, the sun rose. We filed into the main cave and roused the fire. Kade and the others returned. They had found a stash of weapons and a few personal items. No evidence or clues to who had hired the pair to kill me.
Raiden carried a white metal box and a scoop, handing both to me.
“What are these?” I asked.
“You tell me. We found a bunch of those boxes in their cave, and the scoops.” He filled a pot with water and started breakfast.
The cube-shaped box was big enough to hold an orb. Two semicircular openings were centered on the top. Three latches held the box together, and on the opposite side were three hinges. I popped the clasps. The box spread apart like a book.
Inside, both halves looked like the reverse half of an orb. Confused, I ran a finger along a gap around the half orb-shape. Fishy-smelling oil coated the space.
Then it hit me. Those boxes were the reason for the orbs’ perfection. Ziven and Zetta used molds to make the orbs, not their own skills. Using the scoop, they poured molten glass into the closed box. When the glass had properly cooled, they opened it and removed the orb. The gaps at the top, where the inner form connected to the box, could be closed with heat.
Ziven and Zetta went to a considerable amount of trouble for their cover stories. Perhaps they planned to remain with the Stormdancers after they killed me. It would explain why they didn’t try another method to take my life. If the attempt had been successful, they could have claimed I had slipped on the wet trail and fallen by accident.
No matter what their reasons or orders, the Stormdancers still needed orbs for the season. After breakfast, Raiden checked the filled ones from last night. No cracks or any signs of weakness were visible. Though nontraditional, the molds worked. And I would have to use them since I lacked the ability to blow air into glass.
Kade estimated they would need a hundred and fifty to two hundred orbs for the season. I recruited Leif and Skippy to help me and started right away.
In the afternoon, Leif paused after filling the cauldron with sand. “How long will it take to make them all?”
We had ten molds, and I planned to have Leif blow in the blowpipe to craft ten more. The annealing oven could only hold twenty orbs. “Ten or eleven days.”
Leif gasped in horror. “Ten days being forced to eat seaweed and clams.” He placed the back of his hand to his forehead, exaggerating the dramatics.
“Forced to eat? You? The person who drools as soon as Raiden picks up his cook pot? I’m more likely to believe someone forced you to stop eating.”
He shuddered. “That would be cruel.”
After spending all day working, I dragged my body to Kade’s cave. My arms ached from wrestling with the heavy molds. I collapsed on the cot, planning to take a nap before dinner.
Kade woke me when he added wood to the brazier until the inside glowed hot. “You missed dinner.”
I mumbled a reply, making room for him on the cot.
“What’s this?” He picked up a piece of paper from the floor.
“My note.” It must have fluttered down when Kade heard my scream.
He read the words by firelight and laughed. “I see how handy those little check boxes can be. ‘Kade, I went A, fishing, B, surfing, C, treasure hunting or D, to the kiln.’ If you had checked B, I would have suspected foul play.”
“Guess I need to add on a few options. E, cliff diving and F, dodging assassins.”
“I hope you’ll wake me up for those two.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t let you miss out on the fun.”
Leif woke us the next morning. At least, I thought the darkness didn’t seem as thick. Kade told him to go away or he would zap him.
Undaunted, Leif said, “I received a message from the Council—”
“And I’m not going to like it,” I finished for him.