Ghastly Glass (7 page)

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Authors: Joyce and Jim Lavene

BOOK: Ghastly Glass
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He walked up to me and pushed back the swathe of wet brown hair that had fallen into my face. “Let me make it up to you. She doesn’t mean anything to me. You’re the only lady in my life.”
I looked up at him through the steady rain and felt that excitement again, despite the banshee that wanted to come between us. “I’ll give you one chance. After that, I’m staying with Debby. She may not be as exciting, but at least she doesn’t scream when I open the door.”
Chase swept me off the swing and into his arms where I lay helpless against his broad chest. Oh, the fantasies I could weave with, or without, the Village.
 
 
T
he next morning, the sky was clear and the air cool. There was a faint smell of wood smoke billowing through the streets. Autumn had reached the Village at last, and the residents were happy to see it after the long, hot summer.
“Make sure you wear your gloves.” Chase kissed me on the lips then kissed each of my hands. “I don’t want to see burns instead of grass cuts this fall. Burning is a bad thing. And don’t let me catch you anywhere near Henry’s legs again. Inside or outside. The next time I won’t go so easy on you.”
I smiled in a dreamy, goofy way. It had been an exceptional night the likes of which I knew we might not share again. No one had come yelling about some problem they needed Chase to resolve, and the banshee had stayed asleep. Chase was all mine and I was all his for a full, wonderful eight hours. “Don’t worry. If Henry tries anything again, he won’t have any legs left.”
“That’s what I like to hear! Do you have your cup? ”
I held up the cup that meant I could get free drinks all day, a Village standard for residents. “I’m going to try to have lunch around noon. Maybe at Fabulous Funnels. Maybe you could be there, too.”
“I’ll try.” He clipped his mug to the black belt around his waist. This morning the Bailiff was in Halloween black with a touch of red at his throat.
“If you’d get me a radio like yours, we could talk during the day.”
“If you get a job with security, I can do that. Until then, we’ll have to do the best we can.” He kissed my forehead. “I’ll see you later.”
I was late as usual, with Chase and breakfast and everything. I still had to turn in my witch’s costume and pick up something made of cotton to stay in line with Roger’s decree. I was surprised there wasn’t a long line at the costume shop. The Village wasn’t open to visitors yet, which probably worked to my advantage. From what I could see, the residents were already decked out in their evil attire.
Portia, of course, wasn’t thrilled to hear I needed a different costume. She took the witch’s black dress with a shake of her head. “Now we’re going to be short one witch. How’s that going to look? And what’s wrong with the costume? ”
“I need cotton that doesn’t have billowy sleeves or a full skirt,” I told her again. “I’m going to be working with hot glass and flames. Roger doesn’t think the combination would be very safe.”
“All right. I think I have exactly what you need.” She took out a green costume that was in two parts. “This should do it.”
“What is it?” I looked at it but couldn’t decide which part went where.
“It’s a demon costume. I didn’t give you the mask. It’s made of cotton. No billowy sleeves or skirt. Exactly what you need. Next? ”
Since there was no one standing behind me, I decided to argue the point. I was going to have to spend a lot of time for the next few weeks in this costume, or one just like it. I
really
didn’t want to be a demon. “Don’t you have a Craft Guild costume for a man? Cotton trousers, shirt, boots. You know, something normal.”
“We’re not doing normal right now. Look around you.” She gestured. “Does anything
look
normal? ”
“Nothing ever looks normal around here, Portia.” I leaned on the counter. “Couldn’t you
please
find me something I can work in? I don’t think a demon costume is going to cut it.”
“Cheer up. You don’t have to wear the red contacts that go with it. How’s that for helping you out?” She leaned toward me. “I heard the man playing Death was murdered. What’ve you heard? ”
“Can you get me a shirt and a pair of pants? ”
“Maybe.” She narrowed her eyes. “Come on. You’re with Chase. You know what’s happening.”
That’s all it took, I’m ashamed to say.
I spilled everything I knew for a pair of brown cotton britches I had to tie around my waist with a rope. I even made up a few things and got a peasant shirt that fit me closely. Portia threw in a hat, and I told her about things that
might
happen. She loves gossip, and she doesn’t care where it comes from.
I took what I could get and hurried away. Portia waved before turning to share her news with the three seamstresses who worked on the costumes. It was worth it anyway. There’s so much gossip all the time flying through the Village that there was no way of knowing how it would actually end up.
The main gate had just opened, and musicians had taken up their seats to serenade the first crowd of visitors. I could see by their werewolf, vampire, and Renaissance costumes that they were in the Halloween spirit. A few resident demons with red eyes wandered by, challenging each other to a duel. A group of witches ran through the street asking visitors if they were in need of a spell.
Other than that, it was the usual chaos of horses, sheep, and chickens mixed in with black-garbed fairy-tale folk playing in the streets. The Wandering Madman kept asking everyone he met if there was a bird on his head. The Pied Piper, dressed in deep purple (obviously he couldn’t wear
black
), walked along playing his pipe, a group of adult-looking children following him.
I took a deep breath and smiled. It was good to be back.
Roger and Henry were waiting for me at the Glass Gryphon after I’d stopped and changed into my costume at Debby’s since Chase was still working on the banshee problem. Henry went to talk with a few visitors while Roger sat me down behind the workbench again. “I want you to get a feel for all these tools, Jessie. You’ll be using them shortly. You can move things around, left and right, however you feel comfortable.”
I looked at all of the tools. Some I recognized. There was the hot glass rest, the lapping wheel, a tungsten pick, and a torch. I knew the torch could be moved around the glass, unlike a stationary burner. “Okay. I’m ready.”
He laughed. “You’re not, but we’ll get you started anyway. First thing we’re going to do is light up your torch. We’re going to practice sealing or joining two pieces of glass together. It’ll give you a feel for working with it. Just take these two pieces and use the torch to heat up the ends until you can fuse them.”
I followed his instructions exactly and ignited the gas torch with a flint lighter. “How big should the flame be? ”
“Should be less than an inch. You can leave it on at this level and put it in the holder over there while you do something else. But shut it off before you leave the bench.”
He had me practice flame control by changing the setting on the gas and oxygen valves. I made a really large flame that I thought might’ve singed my eyebrows, and then I made a tiny little flame I could barely see. “How’s that? ”
“Pretty good. Now let’s see what you can do with the glass.”
I picked up the two clear glass rods and held them together in front of the torch. They heated up right away, and I dropped one.
“Not like that,” he said, correcting me. “You’ll have to hold it like this and melt the two pieces so the ends join. It’ll get pretty hot, so you might have to hold it with this clamp. Henry and I are used to it, but a newbie like you will need some time. And remember to wear your goggles. The glass can shatter. I had some taken out of my eye once. Not a pleasant experience.”
I moved the pieces of glass together so the ends would get hot. I was concentrating so hard on what I was doing that I didn’t notice Henry bringing his two winsome lasses closer to my workbench until the first one said, “Ooh! That looks hot!”
I glanced up, making my safety glasses fall off my face. The glass rod heated up too much and melted on the bench. I moved the other rod quickly away, narrowly missing the torch held in the clamp. Unfortunately, my sleeve didn’t miss the torch, which blazed a black hole in the fabric. Guess it could’ve been worse. At least I didn’t have to stop, drop, and roll.
“Henry, move the visitors away from Jessie’s workbench. She doesn’t need to be nervous.”
“Sorry, Jessie.” Henry smiled. “Let’s come this way, ladies. Methinks there may be something of interest to you on yon table.”
I watched them walk away, glad to see them go. That’s the only problem with apprenticing in a shop that relies on the public watching what you do. Half the fun (and therefore the appeal of the products) has to do with seeing how the craft is done. But the audience puts a lot of pressure on the apprentice.
I cleaned up my mess and checked to make sure only my sleeve was burned. I was going to go through a lot of shirts this way, but at least I wasn’t hurt. I tried again with the glass rods, this time wearing the elbow-length gloves Chase had given me. I found out quickly that it was almost impossible to hold the glass and manipulate it wearing the gloves. Too bad, because they would’ve protected me.
I concentrated on the glass rods, watching the ends turn red as they heated up. I carefully put them together and hoped they’d seal. That would be one task down and about a billion more to go before I could create anything. I knew I wouldn’t be able to make dragons or other pieces that required a lot of training, but I was looking forward to making something small and easy, like a cross or a boat. That didn’t seem too much to ask by the end of October.
A few more visitors wandered into the shop, fondling expensive pieces of glass with careful hands. Roger and Henry waited on them while I continued sealing pieces of glass together. I was getting the hang of it, I thought, as the Royal Trumpets sounded outside announcing the entrance of the Royal Court.
Surprisingly, Princess Isabel entered with her entourage of ladies-in-waiting, fools, and jugglers who accompanied her everywhere she walked in the Village. “We have witnessed something strange outside your door, good craftsman.” She approached Roger with a puzzled expression on her face. “Could you tell us what you are about with such a sign?”
Roger bowed low, edging Henry out in that department. “Of course, Your Highness. How may I assist you? ”
The entire group made for the outside of the Glass Gryphon. On the side wall facing the King’s Tarts shop was a gruesome warning written in what looked like blood.
“Death shall find thee,”
Roger read aloud. “I wonder how that got there? ”
Five

O
bviously someone’s idea of a good Halloween scare.” Chase examined the writing on the wall. “Look around you, people. Everything is set up to make an impression.”
“True, Sir Bailiff.” Isabel managed to stand close enough to Chase so she could wrap her hands around his arm. “But with blood? We do not find this to be appealing and do not think the visitors will either.”
“Blood?” Chase reached up and stuck his finger in the red lettering then licked it.
“Eww!
” The action grossed Isabel totally out of character. “Chase, you shouldn’t eat that stuff!”
“It’s just strawberry jelly.”
I stepped between the princess (who was about to lose her lunch) and my boyfriend, who said, “It’s just a prank. Someone’s watching us right now, having a good time.”
Everyone turned to look at King Arthur, who was about to retrieve the sword from the stone on his usual quarter-hour basis. He glanced up to see all of us staring at him and stepped back. “What? You think this is an easy job and any of
you
could do it? You think I don’t wish I had something with more meat, more passion? Well, never mind. You do what you’re supposed to do, and I’ll do what I have to do.”
“Someone needs some oatmeal for breakfast.” Roger shook his head and looked back at Chase. “So you think this is just a prank? ”
“Or a bad decorating scheme,” Chase replied. “Why? Do you think it’s something more? ”
“It seems odd to me that it would be on
my
shop,” Roger continued. “I didn’t really even know Ross that well. Why would it be here? Any other reports of the same thing around the Village? ”
“None that I’ve heard. Look, Roger—”
“None on the dungeon, I bet.”
“I’m sure it’s not personal,” Chase argued. “What’s wrong with you anyway? It’s like everything I say is wrong.”

Everything
is personal.” Roger stalked back into the shop. A few seconds later, he bellowed my name.
“I guess I better go,” I told Chase. “Did you
know
that was strawberry jelly or did you just guess? ”
“If you look close, you can see the little strawberry seeds. It didn’t take a lot of brainpower. I’m sure we’ll be seeing more of it since the press played that phrase up big time.” He looked at the burn mark on my shirt. “You haven’t been wearing your gloves.”

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