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    Island of Glass: The Age of Magic:The Glassmakers, #1
    Island of Glass: The Age of Magic:The Glassmakers, #1
    Island of Glass: The Age of Magic:The Glassmakers, #1
    Ebook112 pages1 hour

    Island of Glass: The Age of Magic:The Glassmakers, #1

    By Ruth Nestvold

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    About this ebook

    Seventeen-year-old Chiara Dragoni is a master glassmaker of Venice, a position that is both a privilege — and a trap. For the glassmakers of Murano are forbidden to ever leave the islands of the Venetian lagoon.

    When Chiara's uncle is caught on the mainland and thrown into the dungeon of the Doge's Palace, she must use all her talents, including magic, to help free him. But the gift she creates for the prince of Venice has unintended consequences, and now Chiara must decide whether to give up everything — and everyone — she knows and loves in order to save her dream.

    Set in an alternate historical Venice with alchemists, witches and magic, the story uses familiar motifs from the beloved fairy tale "Cinderella" to tell a tale with a very different message.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherRed Dragon Books
    Release dateJan 2, 2017
    ISBN9781386783831
    Island of Glass: The Age of Magic:The Glassmakers, #1
    Author

    Ruth Nestvold

    A former assistant professor of English in the picturesque town of Freiburg on the edge of the Black Forest, Ruth Nestvold has given up theory for imagination. The university career has been replaced by a small software localization business, and the Black Forest by the parrots of Bad Cannstatt, where she lives with her fantasy, her family, her books and no cats in a house with a turret. Her short fiction has appeared in numerous markets, including Asimov's, F&SF, Baen's Universe, Strange Horizons, Scifiction, and Gardner Dozois's Year's Best Science Fiction. Her fiction has been nominated for the Nebula, Tiptree, and Sturgeon Awards. In 2007, the Italian translation of her novella "Looking Through Lace" won the "Premio Italia" award for best international work. Her novel Flamme und Harfe appeared in translation with the German imprint of Random House, Penhaligon, in 2009 and has since been translated into Dutch and Italian.

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      Book preview

      Island of Glass - Ruth Nestvold

      Island of Glass

      Seventeen-year-old Chiara Dragoni is a master glassmaker of Venice, a position that is both a privilege — and a trap. For the glassmakers of Murano are forbidden to ever leave the islands of the Venetian lagoon.

      When Chiara's uncle is caught on the mainland and thrown into the dungeon of the Doge's Palace, she must use all her talents, including magic, to help free him. But the gift she creates for the prince of Venice has unintended consequences, and now Chiara must decide whether to give up everything — and everyone — she knows and loves to save her dream.

      ISLAND OF GLASS

      The Age of Magic:

      The Glassmakers, Book I

      Ruth Nestvold

      Copyright 2014 by Ruth Nestvold

      Cover by Rachel Cole at Littera Designs

      Map of Venice: Ignazio Danti (16th century), captions by Ruth Nestvold

      Red Dragon Books

      * * * *

      For Miranda

      Thanks for reading

      Venice and surrounding islands

      Chapter 1

      In which glass and an arrest are made.

      Chiara wiped her hands on her apron and lifted the goblet up to the light, inspecting her work critically. The fluted glass flared out like a lily beginning to bloom, and as hard as she tried, she could find no discoloring or bubbles. She breathed a sigh of relief: a nearly perfect piece. It would command a high price among the nobles of Venice and beyond.

      The work of the Murano glassmakers was in great demand throughout the world. Their craftsmanship was the basis of their riches — and their curse. Out of fear that they might reveal trade secrets, the laws of La Serenissima decreed that members of the glassmaking families of Murano were never to leave the islands of their lagoon. Murano glass was more precious than gold, after all. Anyone who knew the recipe of the alchemists could make gold, but only the artisans of Murano could make glass so fine, one could nearly touch one's fingers together on either side; cristallo without an imperfection or blemish, clear as the sky, with a sparkle to rival that of diamonds.

      The door to the glass-blowing shop opened, and Chiara turned. Hello, Pasquale, she said with a smile when she noticed who it was.

      He nodded, smiling back. "Buongiorno."

      Her second cousin took an apron from one of the hooks next to the door and tied it around his waist. Nearly everyone on Murano in the glassmaking industry seemed to be related. Offhand, she couldn't think of anyone who wasn't at least her third cousin once removed. It was a very incestuous little island.

      Pasquale joined her at the table where she'd been working. He picked up the elaborately shaped goblet, turning it in his artisan's hands. An excellent piece, Chiara. You have the touch.

      No more than you.

      He shook his head, his infectious smile lurking at the corners of his mouth. Not true. I am a craftsman. You — you are an artist.

      Chiara felt herself blushing. She knew all in the Fenice Glassworks respected her talents, but she still glowed at his praise. She wondered if she would ever take her abilities for granted, as so many of their older relatives seemed to do. It had taken years of arguments and rebellion and secret practice until she'd persuaded her family to allow her to train officially as a maestra glassmaker. Even now, with the reputation of her work growing and her pieces sought after throughout the Empire of Venice, she often still felt like the little girl who'd had to fight so hard to achieve her dream.

      And her second cousin Pasquale had been integral to her success. When she was nine and he ten, after he had begun his apprenticeship, she started pestering him constantly to teach her the magic of making glass. Rather than brushing her off, as most of her male relatives would have, he seemed to regard teaching her as a game, a form of secret rebellion. Pasquale began sneaking her into the workshops after the others quit for the day. He showed her the various tools and how to use them, the rod, the tongs, the clippers, the blowing pipe. He taught her what to add to the glass batch to create different colors. He demonstrated techniques such as caneworking, mold blowing, and murrine.

      She wouldn't be where she was now without him. Certainly, at times they fought more like brother and sister than distant cousins, but he was the one who had taken her hand after her mother died and the one who stood by her after her father remarried — and Chiara had ended up with two step-sisters. Minerva had since become her friend, but Chiara still found it difficult to even be in the same room with Anastasia.

      Those conflicts were far away, though, when she sat on her workbench with a wad of molten glass on her blowpipe, her favorite relative on another workbench nearby.

      * * *

      They spent the rest of the morning working companionably side by side, Chiara on more goblets to match the first, and Pasquale on a large serving bowl decorated with rosettes. Other relatives drifted in and out of the glassmaking shop, some coming to work on their own projects, others to inspect and tally the items created by the Fenice craftsmen or discuss orders that had come in and who would be most appropriate to take them.

      Chiara had just completed the fourth goblet when her stomach gave a very audible growl, loud enough to be heard even over the furnace.

      Pasquale, who had been inspecting the placement of the final rosette for his bowl, glanced over at her, laughing. I think that is a sign we should take a break for our midday meal!

      Chiara nodded.

      They rose, removing their aprons and hanging them back up on the hooks near the door. As they left the building, a cool spring breeze from the lagoon played with the strands of hair falling from the chignon at the back of her neck, and Chiara heaved a sigh of relief. As much as she loved her craft, the furnaces where they melted the glass could make the work hard to bear at times. At least it was not yet summer — that was when work in the glassmaking shops was worst.

      They ambled along the fondamenta, the walkway next to the canal, away from the glass factories and their furnaces, toward the center of the island where most of the taverns were located. Chiara gazed at the reflection of the buildings in the water, happy at the sights and sounds of her home, the presence of Pasquale at her side. It was a beautiful spring day, the sun was shining, and she was living a life she had created for herself that many would envy. The houses of Murano were not as elegant as those of Venice, but what they lacked in height, moldings, trim, and other ornamentation, they made up for in color and vibrancy. Murano was more simple and down-to-earth than the larger island of La Serenissima, but to Chiara, that made it all the more charming. She loved the walk from the glassworks to the many nearby trattoria, loved the smell of garlic and seafood and fresh bread.

      They crossed a bridge over one of the canals. Pasquale stopped to read the day's menu scrawled on a board next to tables and chairs spilling out onto the square. What do you say, Chiara, will it be Toni and his spaghetti vongole today, or would you rather continue on to a focaccia stand?

      She was enjoying the walk in the spring sunshine too much to stop already. Let us see what the other vendors are offering before we decide.

      They came around a corner on the quay — only to be confronted by a commotion ahead, near one

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