Storm Glass Page 97

“You’ll have to tell me.” He turned away to open the door.

Dressed in expensive silk tunics, saleswomen descended on Ulrick as soon as we entered the shop. I let him explain while I strolled around the display cases. A fruit bowl with rippled sides drew my attention. I ran a finger along the light purple glass. No magic, but the craftsmanship was superb.

“Please don’t touch,” a saleswoman said. She eyed my cloak. “I doubt you have the gold to pay for it if you break it.”

“Sina, that is no way to talk to a customer,” another woman admonished.

I turned my head to see a tall beauty with long ebony hair and vibrant green eyes. Ulrick’s sister. They could have been twins. I liked her immediately.

“She’s with me,” Ulrick said, untangling himself from a persistent salesgirl.

“Ulrick! What a surprise.” They embraced briefly. She invited us to join her in the back. “My office is next to the workshop.”

Four kilns roared and eight workers scurried about the workbenches. The place resembled more a factory than a shop.

“Production pieces.” Gressa dismissed the activity. “It’s the only way I can keep up with the demand.” She chatted about her work, listing all the projects she’d been commissioned for in one speech.

We entered her office. Sheets of colored glass had been attached to the walls, floor and ceiling. Each pane a different color and when she closed the door to block the noise, I felt as if I stood in a glass box. Her desk and tables were made out of clear glass. Various glass items littered the tables and paper was piled on her desk.

She gestured to a round table made from brown-colored glass. The cushions on the four chairs surrounding the table were the only soft things in the entire office. We sat and stared at each other for a moment.

“Why are you here?” she asked.

Ulrick huffed with annoyance. “I wanted you to meet Opal. Do you remember her? She’s one of Jaymes’s daughters.”

Her mouth twisted into a little frown. “You’re obviously not the older one or the dead one.” Recognition lit her eyes. “The youngest one!” She seemed pleased with herself for figuring it out.

Perhaps I had been too hasty in liking her. She prattled on about how she could have been friends with Tula at school, but her talent manifested early and working glass was more important than classes.

“I remember now. You’re the glass magician.” Gressa regarded me with more interest. “You have important friends. Why are you wasting time with my brother?”

I changed my mind. I didn’t like her at all. “He’s important to me. And he’s a glass magician, too.”

“Really?” She ignored my heated tone. “Everyone always says I work magic with glass. Do I have power, too?”

From the corner of my eye, I saw Ulrick roll his eyes. No wonder he hadn’t wanted to visit her at first. I glanced at the wares on the table. “Are they yours?”

“Yes.” She hopped to her feet. “Experiments, but I liked the way they catch the light.”

“May I?” My hand hovered over a small glass rose.

“Go ahead. I’m working on a whole bouquet of flowers made of glass for Councillor Moon.”

The rose was expertly wrought, but the glass remained silent. None of her other items popped or glowed. I dug out my seashell and showed it to her.

“Ugh. What a horrid creation. Here, let me toss that into the cullet barrel for you.”

“Gressa,” Ulrick said with outrage.

“What?” She seemed genuinely confused. So focused on herself, she wasn’t aware of how her words and actions affected others.

“It’s all right.” I explained about the magic trapped inside the piece. “It usually is a very good indicator of a person’s magic ability, but Ulrick can’t see it, either.”

“Figures. Poor Ulrick always had just enough talent to make his life frustrating. Why would magic be any different?”

He jumped up. “I’ve had enough. Come on, Opal.”

Gressa scrambled to apologize. “At least, let me show you my shop. I implemented the water system you designed.”

Ulrick crossed his arms. “The system you laughed at and said wouldn’t work?”

“I was wrong.”

He dropped his arms in surprise. “Can you write that down for me?”

“Now don’t make a big stink about it. Come see.” She breezed out of the room, leaving us to either follow or stay.

“Interesting lady,” I said.

“She’s actually better than she used to be. I wonder if she even installed the system right. Let’s go.”

I was impressed with the shop. She had a number of helpful little gadgets. Eventually, though, the siblings discussed technical details and I wandered away bored.

As with most shops, the mixing room was separated from the factory to avoid having dust contaminate the glass. It was usually locked to keep ingredients and recipes a secret. Gressa’s wasn’t. She was either confident her workers wouldn’t intrude, or careless. I poked around the room. Despite my curiosity, I wasn’t going to pry open barrels or look in drawers. Standard mixing equipment and bowls were scattered on the counters. Powdered colors filled jars.

A sparkle from behind the scale drew my attention. Tiny diamonds covered the bottom of a tray. I moved closer and pinched a few between my fingertips, rolling them around. No flash. Not diamonds, but gypsum crystals.

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