“My dear Thessa,” he said, “what on earth are you doing up at this hour?”
“Thunder woke me up,” Thessa replied.
“The Forge does seem to be unusually loud tonight. I heard Ekhi out of sorts. Did you check on him?”
“Of course. He’s just being a brat.”
Kastora chuckled. “How has the glassworks been in my absence?”
“Everything has gone smoothly. The shipment for the Atria went out two days early. A military contract came back with signatures – it’s on the corner of your desk there.”
“Wonderful, wonderful.”
“Your work in the countryside?” she asked. Kastora could be capricious and secretive with what he shared. He was one of the best siliceers in the world, and often had secret projects for the duke, foreign clients, and even Ossan guild-families. She did not expect him to give her a straight answer, and was surprised when he leaned back in his chair, a smile flickering across his face.
“Oh, Thessa. You have no idea.”
“That’s why I asked,” she reminded him gently.
He chuckled again, gesturing for her to come close. She leaned in, bemused by his conspiratorial expression. “I,” Kastora said victoriously, “have created a phoenix channel.”
Thessa blinked back at him. A phoenix channel was a hypothetical mechanism used to turn energy into sorcery. In short, it could recharge spent pieces of godglass, allowing them to be reused indefinitely. A phoenix channel wasn’t exactly mythical, but it was close to it. Every master in the world had tried to make one at some point in their career and they’d all failed.
“No you didn’t” popped from her mouth before she could stop herself. It was wildly disrespectful, but Master Kastora didn’t seem to notice.
“No joking,” he said with a grin. “I made a working phoenix channel. Just a prototype, mind you. The energy transfer was far from perfect – I had to burn six cartloads of hardwood just to charge a single piece of forgeglass.” He pulled something from his pocket and handed it solemnly to her.
It was a yellow piece of forgeglass – her own work, actually, a tiny stud with a flared tail that amplified the natural strength of most people who wore it. The sorcery didn’t affect her the way it affected others. She could hear the slight hum godglass gave off, and feel the resonant vibration on the tips of her fingers, but Thessa was sorcery-aphasic: she could not benefit from godglass, nor did she suffer from the effects of glassrot. It helped make her an especially good siliceer, for she could work longer hours with no cost.
The piece of forgeglass hummed powerfully in her hand. It felt like godglass. It sounded like godglass.
“It was spent when I started,” Kastora promised.
If he’d made a working phoenix channel – and Kastora had never been a liar or prankster – this could change the world. Recharging godglass would become a whole new industry, and help undercut the rising prices of cindersand. She looked closer at Kastora, seeing the exhaustion in his eyes and how his hands shook slightly. He was like a schoolboy having miraculously passed his tests after a weeklong bender.
“That’s incredible! What will you do next?”
“Well, the reason I’m telling you is because I’m going to move the phoenix channel here to the glassworks. I’ll put it in one of the furnaces, and once the solstice is over I’ll get a few of the journeymen to help me refine it. Like I said: it’s just a prototype. It needs a lot of work.”
Thessa looked at Kastora hopefully. Like any siliceer, she’d learned about the phoenix channel early in her apprenticeship and had daydreamed about making one. “Have you already chosen your assistants?”
“Of course!” he exclaimed. “You’ll be my number two on this project. The concept is sound, we just need to make it better!”
Thessa inhaled sharply, any last vestiges of sleep fleeing her thoughts. She’d been Kastora’s protégé for years and this would be by far the most important project he’d undertaken. His asking her to assist him directly, instead of calling in someone more experienced, was a massive honor. “You’re sure?”
“You are – and I will deny this if you ever repeat it – the second-best siliceer in Grent. Behind myself only, of course.” He continued to grin at her. “I wouldn’t want anyone else helping me. Now, you need to get more sleep. I’ve already taken the phoenix channel back to my rooms. We’ll unpack it after lunch and get working on ideas. If there’s rain, it’ll be a good day to brainstorm, I…” He trailed off, his head cocked slightly to one side. “Are you sure that’s thunder from the Forge?”
“I think so,” Thessa answered. She opened the door and listened to the distant sound. Several moments passed, and she heard Kastora get up and come over to stand behind her. She said, “Maybe you’re right. It’s too regular to be thunder. But what else could it be?”
Kastora shoved past her, and she was about to say something but caught a glance at the side of his face. A scowl had taken over his normally cheerful demeanor. “Come with me,” he called, striding off across the compound.
Thessa ran to catch up, her boots thumping across the hard-packed dirt. They walked past the dormitory, then down a slight incline toward the small gatehouse that oversaw the main entry into the glassworks. Thessa felt her heart racing, and couldn’t help but glance at Kastora every few steps. Kastora kept his eyes on the horizon even after they dipped beneath the curve of the hill and could no longer see the lights of Grent. She could see the outline of Master Kastora putting bits of godglass into his piercings. She couldn’t benefit from them herself, of course, but she knew the glassworks enough to follow him without tripping in the near darkness.
They reached the gatehouse, where Kastora poked his head inside the tiny room. “Get me Captain Jero,” he told the guard on duty. “Yes, I know the hour. Get her immediately.” Within the minute, a dark-skinned, middle-aged woman stumbled out of the door pulling on her white-and-orange royal infantry jacket.
“Master Kastora?” Jero asked.
“I want you to wake everyone up.”
“Excuse me?” she yawned.
Kastora reached out and grabbed her by one of the braided epaulets on her jacket. “You hear that? That’s cannon fire. It’s coming from eastern Grent. Wake everyone up, put them on alert, and send someone to the palace immediately.”
“I can’t … I…” It was clear that Captain Jero was still shaking the sleep from her mind. “It’s probably just part of the solstice celebrations.”
“At four in the morning? I don’t give a damn what it might be. Send a messenger to find out. Until we’re notified differently, I want you to assume that we’re under attack.”
“By who?” Jero asked incredulously.
“Does it matter?” Kastora whirled on his heel and marched back up the hill.
Thessa struggled to keep up. She had never seen Kastora like this before and it frightened her. “You really think we’re under attack? We’re a neutral city-state! Who would attack us?”
“Cannon fire in the east? It has to be the Ossans.”
Thessa laughed nervously. “We’re at peace with Ossa. We’re trading partners! Why would they attack us?”
“Because all of the rules are about to change. We’re running out, Thessa.”