Sea Glass
Page 81
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.
“How’d you guess?” He acted shocked.
“I haven’t liked anything the Council has ordered—why should today be any different?”
“Bitterness isn’t healthy, Opal. Perhaps we should send you to the Sandseeds to work out your issues.”
“Kade, could you zap him now?” I asked.
He pushed up to his elbow. “Sorry. He’s too close to my screen. It would catch fire and I like that screen. Took me weeks to find it.”
“Gee. I’m not feeling very welcome.” Leif pouted.
“The man’s a genius. Why don’t you go celebrate on the beach.” Kade plopped back.
“The Council has ordered us home.” Leif waited. “‘Why?’ you ask. The Council is worried about your safety and wants you well protected until they find out who ordered your assassination.”
“I think I’ve been insulted,” Kade said.
“Do you think you could zap the Council from here?” I asked.
“No.”
I considered. “Leif’s a representative of the Council. If you zapped him, would it hurt them?”
“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.
“How’d you guess?” He acted shocked.
“I haven’t liked anything the Council has ordered—why should today be any different?”
“Bitterness isn’t healthy, Opal. Perhaps we should send you to the Sandseeds to work out your issues.”
“Kade, could you zap him now?” I asked.
He pushed up to his elbow. “Sorry. He’s too close to my screen. It would catch fire and I like that screen. Took me weeks to find it.”
“Gee. I’m not feeling very welcome.” Leif pouted.
“The man’s a genius. Why don’t you go celebrate on the beach.” Kade plopped back.
“The Council has ordered us home.” Leif waited. “‘Why?’ you ask. The Council is worried about your safety and wants you well protected until they find out who ordered your assassination.”
“I think I’ve been insulted,” Kade said.
“Do you think you could zap the Council from here?” I asked.
“No.”
I considered. “Leif’s a representative of the Council. If you zapped him, would it hurt them?”
