Shatterglass - By Tamora Pierce Page 0,66

the orange-coloured roof tiles shone. It was all scrubbed clean, right down to the soaked and sullen prathmun. They were almost the only people in sight as they went about their endless chores. Those Tharians of the other classes who walked abroad did so in oiled straw hats and capes, or with oiled silk umbrellas over their heads. Tris simply ushered the rain away from herself, Little Bear and Chime. She’d had her fill of rain the night before, and the heat of Keth’s workshop would make a wet dress unbearable. Let the passers-by stare at her and her dog, shedding drops as if a glass bowl lay over them. It was time they learned that they did not control all the wonder in the universe.

Keth was hard at work by the time she reached the shop. “Did you sleep at all?” Tris asked, seeing the lightning’s power blaze through his skin.

“A little,” he said, “but I had an idea, and I wanted to test it.” He grinned. “Close your eyes,” he ordered. “I’ve got something for you.”

“It had better not be slimy,” Tris warned as she obeyed.

“Spoken like a girl with a brother,” Keth said, moving behind her. “Even in Khapik I’d have to look hard for anything slimy.” Something light fell around Tris’s neck as Chime crooned.

Tris opened her eyes and looked down. On a black silk cord around her neck dangled a bright red flame-like piece of glass, its tail twisted to provide a loop for the cord. On either side of it hung two smaller, blue glass flames. “Keth, this is beautiful,” she whispered. “How did you make it?”

“Actually, Chime did most of the work,” replied Keth, standing back so he could see the full effect of the necklace. “I found these on my sketches when I woke up this morning. She leaves them everywhere she goes, practically. I guess because she eats the ingredients that make and colour glass.”

Tris nodded.

“Well,” continued Keth, “I got to thinking that we could sell them as novelties, to pay Antonou for supplies and to buy more food for Chime. The hardest part was actually heating the tails to bend them for the loop. Whatever’s in those, it resists fire.” He poured a handful of glass flames, all with looped tails, into her hands. “I kept some back for the girls at Ferouze’s,” he confessed. “I didn’t think you’d mind.”

Tris frowned. “You aren’t thinking of taking Chime back, are you?”

Keth shook his head. “I gave up my responsibility to her. Besides, I think she belongs with you.”

Chime underscored Keth’s words by twining around Tris’s neck.

“I love you too, Chime,” mumbled Tris, her cheeks crimson. “Thank you, Keth. It’s a wonderful idea.” She patted her necklace, then looked at him. “Ready to meditate?”

Meditation that day was easier than it had ever been, particularly the exercise in which Keth placed his magic into a crucible. It was as if the night’s lightning had cleared his mind of fear and increased his strength. Tris watched as he treated the lightning in him just as he did glass, with a friendly but firm hand. Today he gripped the power just hard enough to control it, but not so hard that it erupted through the weak places in his concentration. On his fourth try he managed to pack it all into the image he held in his mind of a crucible: Tris could see its shape as it folded in on itself, reduced to a blazing, fist-sized sun. He was so giddy with his success that he repeated the exercise two more times, just because he could.

“We’ll stop for midday,” Tris said, gathering in the magic she had used for her circle of protection. “Then let’s try for another globe.”

“That’s what I hoped to do,” Keth replied. “I might be more successful, now that I have some idea of how my power works — ”

“Tris. Keth.” Dema stood in the doorway, wearing a rain hat and cape. He looked harried, and he would not meet their eyes. “The Ghost struck last night — another girl from Keth’s lodgings. I need you to identify her,” he explained, tight-lipped. “I’ve got horses. Can the dog keep up?”

Keth turned white and rushed from the shop. Tris followed, throwing her rain shield over all of them. In silence they mounted the horses Dema had brought, Chime riding on Tris’s shoulders.

Dema led the way to Elya Street, past the arurimat, and on to Noskemiou Way.

Tris kneed her horse even with

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