Read Dragon Spear for Free Online

my arm into—Shardas gently set the end of it in the pan of melted sand and rolled it. We watched as a glob of a glowing red, taffy-like substance stuck to the end. When it was big enough to suit him, Shardas pulled it out of the oven. He continued to roll the pipe as he gently blew into one end.
    The candylike red blob on the other end of the pipe began to swell. It grew larger and rounder, more transparent, like a soap bubble that was about to burst. I found that I was holding my breath, willing it not to pop, as the red liquid glass grew to the size of my head, then of a large melon.
    Shardas twirled the pipe as he blew, a few times slowly, then fast. There was a large block of polished marble beside the oven and he gently rested part of the blob on it, still twirling. The glass connected to the pipe contracted, and the shape of a vase clearly emerged. Shardas lifted the pipe to give it one more twirl, still blowing through the end, and one of the sides of the vase began to bulge out.
    “Uh- oh,” Hagen whispered.
    Not to be daunted by the now decidedly lopsided shape of his project, Shardas reached out with one foreclaw and cut the glass loose from the pipe, setting it gently on the block. Working quickly, he scratched and pulled and prodded at the glass with his claws fully extended, while we all leaned in a little bit to see what he was doing. He was panting now, from both the heat and the urgency of his movements, as it was plain that the glass was cooling rapidly.
    Shardas pulled the lip of the vase wide, but it was sitting atop too thin a neck, and I gripped Hagen’s hand even more tightly as the top of the vase slowly collapsed. We all groaned as one, and Shardas slumped over his creation as it cooled and hardened. Gleaming, finely etched by his diamond-hard claws, but flawed and lopsided and . . .
    “Perfect,” Velika said softly.
    Her mate raised his head.
    “Only see how the shape reminds one of a tightly closed trumpet flower,” she went on. “And the color, magnificent! The light sparks off it, and the etching draws the eye around the asymmetrical base perfectly.”
    I could tell from her voice that she wasn’t just humoring Shardas, and so could he. She sounded like any collector viewing a fine piece for the first time. Shardas’s blue eyes locked with those of his mate.
    “It won’t hold flowers,” Hagen said reverently. “But it’s still brilliant! A work of art, created by a dragon!”
    If a dragon could blush, Shardas would have. “I’ll keep practicing,” he muttered. “And I should save the rest of this black sand until I improve.”
    “And I keep telling him that he needs no improvement,” Velika said. “As Hagen said, it won’t hold flowers, but it is still brilliant! The jungle around us is full of flowers, Shardas; I don’t need vases to put them in. I simply enjoy looking at your glass pieces as works of art.” She extended her long neck, and touched her nose to Shardas’s. “When this piece cools, it will make a fine addition to my hoard.”
    “I’d love to see the rest of Shardas’s work,” I said. I hated to break up the tender moment, but the combination of the tropical sun and the heat of the glassblowing ovens was making me sweat like a prize hog on butchering day, to borrow a phrase of Hagen’s. “Your cave must be nice and cool right now,” I hinted.
    “Ah, yes! Forgive me,” Shardas said. “I often forget how hot the ovens can be, especially at midday.”
    “The orchards are also nice and cool,” Velika said pointedly. “And young Master Carlbrun is accounted an expert in such things. At least according to his sister.”
    Now it was Hagen’s turn to blush, while Luka and I elbowed him in the ribs.
    With a rumble of laughter, Shardas looked at Hagen. “ Would you be so kind as to look at our orchard before we retire to our cave for refreshment? I am worried that the trees are not growing as straight as they should.”
    “Don’t you have them