The Clear Vessel

Blythe made the new stem too straight.

She knew it as soon as it cooled. The drawn line on the paper had leaned, a small deliberate imbalance that would let morning light pass through one side and evening light catch the other. The glass on her bench stood obediently upright.

Eighteen years of training her hands to correct a curve had made correction quicker than intention.

She tried again.

The second stem leaned too far and would not stand. The third was ugly in a more interesting way. She put it on the kitchen table and ate lunch beside it, considering.

Nerida arrived at two, as arranged.

Since their brief meeting after the amber flower went clear, she had given Blythe time to think. A week, then another. Blythe had taken the time gratefully and used much of it to think about Keir, which was not what Nerida had intended.…