“Hey, mop top,” I said to Ahir.

“What’s up, peanut?” He smirked.

I used to tower over him, but now he was six inches taller than my own five-foot-seven-inch height.

Before I could throw another insult at him, he handed me an aqua-green glass vase. “New recipe. Look at the clarity. Sharp.”

I examined the glass in the sunlight. The cold crystal felt dead in my hands. No throb of potential. No song vibrated in my chest. Nothing. My glass magic was gone. Although painfully aware of my loss, a small part of me hoped to feel a spark every time I touched glass…only to be disappointed each time.

“Working with this melt is pure joy,” Ahir said. “Let’s go over to the factory, I’ll gather a slug for you to try.”

I gave him a tight smile, letting him know I saw through his blatant attempt to interest me in creating with glass again. But no magic equaled no passion. Before Yelena had uncovered my abilities, I hadn’t known about the magic. It had been masked by my desire to create. Now, the inert lump in my hand was just another reminder of my useless existence.

“I think I’ll go for a ride instead.” Returning the vase to Ahir, I left the kitchen. My mother’s protests about missing lunch followed me to the shed.

My family owned an eight-kiln glass factory, not horses. However, when I decided to stay for a while, my father cleaned out the shed, converting it into a temporary stable for Quartz. The small enclosure had room to hang my tack and saddle, and to give Quartz shelter from bad weather. Being a Sandseed horse, she preferred to graze in the Avibian Plains bordering our land.

No one would dare bother a Sandseed horse in the plains. I scanned the tall grasses. They swayed with the wind.