“Didn’t Leif tell you?”

She waved a hand. “You know Leif’s aversion to politics. Besides, they’re keeping a tight lid on what happened to you in Ixia. All I know is you were kidnapped again! And taken to the northern ice sheet. Oh, Opal, you must have been so frightened.” Her arms enveloped me and she stroked my back as if she soothed a child.

The events on the ice sheet seemed frozen in my heart. Distant, as if I watched through a glass sheet. Only the time spent with Kade in Ixia could warm my insides. I remember being scared, but now I felt numb.

I pulled away from Mara. “It’s a heck of a story. Most people don’t even believe me. Yes…” I rushed to assure her. “I know you will, and you make sure to be at the Council’s interrogation so you can hear it all. I’m too exhausted to repeat it now.”

“Council’s interrogation? It’s that bad?”

“Oh, yeah.” I picked up a pontil iron. “How’s the kiln been running?” I asked, changing the subject.

She clutched her skirt and released the fabric over and over. “A little hot. It’s the warming season. With the temperatures heating up during the day and cooling so fast at night, it’s hard to find the right balance of coal, but we will.”

“How’s the cauldron? Any signs of cracking?” Glass was very acidic and would eventually eat through a ceramic bowl.

I slid the kiln’s door open a crack. Bright orange light seared my vision. I squinted and poked a pontil iron in the molten glass-filled cauldron, spinning the metal rod to check the consistency of the melt. Molten glass gathered on the end of the rod like taffy and I removed the iron. Turning the rod to keep the glass from drooping and dripping onto the floor, I studied the slug. It glowed as if alive, pulsing with a deep orange light.

If Mara answered my question, I didn’t hear her. It felt wonderful to hold such potential in my hands again. It had been so long. I sat at the gaffer’s bench and picked up metal tweezers to shape the glass before it hardened. Since I hadn’t used a hollow blowpipe, I couldn’t insert magic inside. But maybe I could try—”

“Stop right there,” a voice called.

Mara sat on the edge of the table with her hands over her mouth, staring at the door. A moment passed before I realized a guard aimed a crossbow at me. Piecov had spread his arms wide to show he was unarmed.

“Step away from the bench,” the man ordered.

I abandoned my piece and moved a few feet away.

“Hands where I can see them.”

I raised my hands. Interesting how annoyance pulsed through my veins instead of fear. His alarm was evident by the sweat staining the fabric under his arms. What did he think I was going to do?

He called out an all clear over his shoulder, and moved aside. The arrow remained pointed at me. Irys and Zitora entered the shop. By this time, anger had replaced my annoyance.

“Make sure you have a null shield in place. I might try to escape.” I didn’t bother to cover my sarcasm or fury.

Zitora and Irys exchanged a look. They had erected a null shield. As Janco would say, holy snow cats!

“Opal, why didn’t you report to my office when you finished with the horses?” Zitora asked.

Aha! Understanding dawned. My stop in the glass shop looked suspicious if they believed I had turned rogue. My anger cooled and disappointment twinged deep in my chest. How could Zitora believe I’d turned rogue?

“I couldn’t resist. I figured it would be a long time before I would be allowed to come here.”

“Allowed?” Mara recovered from her surprise. “Why wouldn’t she be allowed?” Outrage fueled her words. “Without her, you wouldn’t have—”

“Mara.” I drew a breath and released it. “They have a good reason.” I stepped forward and a loud pop pierced the air. A force slammed into my shoulder, knocking me to the floor. Dazed, I stared at the shattered glass next to me. The piece I had left on the rod had cooled too fast and cracked off.

Unfortunately, the noise startled the guard and he’d shot me with an arrow.

9

PAIN RADIATED FROM MY LEFT SHOULDER, SHOOTING DOWN MY arm and ringing my neck. Legs appeared, voices queried and my vision blurred. Hands helped me to stand and I stumbled until an arm wrapped around me. Supported, I lurched to the infirmary with no real memory of the trip.

Healer Hayes’s mouth moved, but I didn’t understand his words. My sister squeezed my hand. I blinked at her in surprise. Nice of her to come along, I opened my mouth to thank her, but Healer Hayes touched the arrow’s shaft and my world turned black.

An insistent poking jabbed my shoulder, each thrust a painful burning spike as if a hot needle gouged my skin. I swatted my torturer with my right hand because my left arm was stuck.

“Stop it, Opal, or I’ll tie down your other arm,” Healer Hayes said.

I peered at him through slits in my eyelids. He fussed with white bandages stained red.

“It hurts.”

“The arrow head went deep, damaging tissue, muscle and bone. I hope you’ll regain use of your left arm.”

I gaped at him. The pain was a mere inconvenience compared with the prospect of a useless arm. How would I work with glass?

“There.” He finished wrapping my shoulder and helped prop a few pillows behind my head. “Are you hungry?”

My stomach felt as if I had swallowed a bucket of sand. “No.”

He sprinkled a white powder into a glass and poured water over it. Handing it to me, he said, “Drink this for the pain, and make sure you consume plenty of liquids today. Tomorrow you will eat.” He set the water pitcher down on the wooden table by my bed.