Tris shook her head. The man had obviously lost control of his magical working. d better let it go,she informed him. what possessed you, that you didnt draw a protective circle?

The man jerked and yanked the pipe from his lips. The glass wriggled, spiralled, and broke free, tumbling in the air as it flew madly around the room. Little Bear yelped and fled into the yard.

Didnt you undo it?Tris demanded. She ducked as writhing glass zoomed over her head.

T they teach you, the more power you throw into magic gone awry, the more it will fight your control? Forget reusing the glass. Its so full of magic now youll have

real trouble if you try to make it into anything else.

The glass thing - she couldnt tell what it was -landed on the man s skull. Smoke and the stench of burning hair rolled away from its feet. The man swore and slapped at it. Terr ified, his creation fled. As it flew, its features became sharper, more identifiable. The big lumps became very large, bat-like wings. Smaller lumps stretched out to become powerful hind legs and short forelegs. Lesser points shaped themselves as ears; an upright ribbed fin rose on its neck; another point fixed the end of the glass as a tail. When the thing lit on a worktable, Tris saw the form it had fought to gain. It was a glass dragon, silver-veined with magic, clear through and through. It was thirty centimetres long from nose to rump, with fifteen more centimetres of tail.

The man had dumped a pail of water on his head as soon as the dragon left him. Now he flung his blowpipe across the room, shattering three vases.

Dont do the least bit of good,Tris informed him, hands on hips. Old as you are, surely you know that much.She noted distantly that there was a circle of dead white hair atop the mans head, almost invisible against the bright, closely cropped blond hair that surrounded it.

He wheezed, coughed, gasped, and glared at her with very blue eyes. in Eilig s name are you? And what did you do to me?He spoke slowly and carefully, which didnt match his scarlet face and trembling hands.

Tris scowled. did it yourself, dolt. You threw good magic after bad,

including power you drained from all around this neighbourhood because you didnt protect the workshop. Now look. You ll have to feed it and care for it, you know: And what it eats is beyond me. Living metal feeds on metal ores in the ground, but living glass?She tugged one of the thin braids that framed her face, picking the problem apart. I d suspect. And natron, and seashells, since thats what you make glass with in the first place. And antimony and magnesium to make it clear.

you be

quiet? the man cried, his voice still slow. have no magic! Just a seed, barely enough to, to make the glass easier.

Tris glared at him. may only be fourteen, but Im not stupid, and youre a terrible liar.

The glassblower doubled his big hands into fists. am not a liar! he cried, his slow words a sharp contrast to his enraged face. dare you address me like that? Get out!

Little Bear didnt like the thing that zipped so dangerously around the workshop , but even less did he like the glassblower. He thrust himself between Tris and the man, hackles up, lips peeled away from his teeth, a low growl rumbling through his large chest.

Look,Tris said with a sigh. upset my dog.

The glassblower backed away. am a journeyman of the Glassmakers Guild, he said, forcing the words past clumsy lips. have no magic. I am no liar. I want you and your dog gone. And that

Thing you made, too!

made?Tris demanded, aghast. if I didnt see the power flow from you into the glass! Look, Master Jumped-Up Journeyman, that dragon is

your creation-

The glassblower yelled and grabbed a long pair of metal tongs. The dragon had landed on a worktable and was trying to climb into a jar on top of it. out of there!he cried, smacking the tongs on the table a centimetre from the dragon s tail. - agents cost - money!His sluggish speech was in sharp contrast to his quick strike at the dragon.

The glass creature leaped clear before the glassblower could shatter it with a second blow. It flew to a shelf on the wall, its front half covered with powder. Clinging to the shelf, it spat blue fire at its attacker. Once clear of its muzzle, the flames solidified and fell to shatter on the floor.

T you dare hit that creature!cried Tris. s alive - you might break it!

Ll smash it to bits, the man growled. He poked the dragon with his tongs as it scrabbled a new jar with its claws. For a moment it teetered, then righted itself. The man advanced on it, tongs raised in his hand.

s a

Living thing Tris called. may have made it, but that doesnt give you the right to break it. She yanked one of her thin braids free of its tie and combed it out with her fingers. Sparks formed in the crimped red locks, sticking to her palms.

The glassblower ignored her. The dragon glided to another shelf, one that supported an uncorked jar. Curious, it stuck its head inside. s it,the man said grimly. re dead.With tongs raised high, he went after it like a man in urgent pursuit of a mouse.

m warning you, Tris said clearly. She had to tell people when she was about to use particular magics: in her hands magic was a deadly weapon and had to be treated as such. cant kill that.

me.T he man struck at the dragon, missing by a centimetre. When he raised his weapon again, a hair-thin lightning-bolt slammed into the tongs. The man shrieked and dropped them, nursing a hand and arm that twitched in the aftermath of a moderate shock. He whir led to stare at Tris, white showing all the way around his irises.

She waited, her loosened braid hanging beside her face, sparks glinting along its strands. In her open right hand a circle of lightning played, leaping from finger to finger. to break t hat poor creature again and what you just got will seem like a love-tap,she said, crimson with fury. cant kill it didnt your teachers make you learn