Page 121 of Silverbow
She was alright enough, it seemed.
thirty-one
Crissa
The Testing crawled up the Sunset Road. Crissa remained the newest recruit until a boy, an earth wielder, was picked up somewhere along the way to Maymoor. She still, however, remained the biggest disappointment. He’d accidentally sent up a torrent of earth in his first week of wearing the collar. The senior recruits had rewarded him with a night spent drinking in a tavern. Meanwhile, Crissa was still drowning.
When Louissa Adler finally came to see her, Crissa felt as if all the air had left the room. Perhaps it had, but the woman sat on the cot opposite her and neatly tucked one ankle behind the other. She waited for the onslaught.
“What do you know of Enya Ryerson?” She asked without prelude.
Crissa was so taken aback by the question, she took too long to respond. An unseen switch of air fell across her back, making her yelp. “Nothing, Wielder Adler. I mean, not really. She didn’t socialize much with the other children of the noble houses.”
“Did you think that strange?” She asked sharply.
“Not really. The farm was far enough upcountry, no one went out there much.”
Wielder Adler’s lips pressed into a thin line.
“She was starting to see suitors,” Crissa added hastily. “But she never saw anyone twice.”
“What do you know of Lord Ryerson?”
Crissa frowned. “Not much. He kept to himself. My mother thought him handsome, but he never accepted her invitations to dine.”
“Think, girl. Did you ever hear anything unusual about Ryerson House?”
Crissa frowned again. She had learned about the Master of Coin’s bounty along the road and couldn’t fathom what the fuss was about. She couldn’t possibly think of anything she could offer the air wielder she wouldn’t already know from the house’s rolls. “I…I think I once heard Lord Thornson remark on what a good sword Lord Ryerson was.”
“A sword?” Louissa mused.
“That’s unusual,” Crissa rushed. “For Westforks. Not much use for swords.”
“Is that all?”
Crissa frantically searched the depths of her memory for any scrap of information and came up empty. “I…I think so.”
The woman eyed her for long heartbeats. “I hear you’ve still not broken your block.”
Crissa flinched. “No, Wielder Adler. I have not.”
“What do you think about when Recruit Trakaw is teaching?”
If she thought about anything at all, it certainly escaped her under the intensity of the woman’s gaze.
Wielder Adler huffed. “You will stronger than he is, you know. Start acting like it.” She rose, smoothing her black skirts. “If you think of anything else about Ryerson House, you will find me at once.”
“Yes, Wielder Adler,” she said a bit too breathlessly.
As the door closed behind her, Crissa sagged back onto her cot.Stronger than he is?Crissa had never been stronger than anyone. She certainly didn’tfeelstrong as she went a bit boneless on her cot. For weeks, she’d been terrified Wielder Adler would pay her a visit, and now that she had, she realized it was only that bloody bucket she needed to fear. Rage welled in her, a rage like she had never known before. She was still seething when Recruit Trakaw arrived for their nightly lesson.
Rage did not suddenly give her the ability to see his wieldings, but when he seized the back of her neck, Crissa squeezed her eyes shut and braced for thefamiliar rush of water to fill her nose and mouth. It didn’t come. Instead, the bucket clattered to the floor, empty, and Recruit Trakaw released her. Her eyes flew open and found the bucket on the floor. She slowly dragged her gaze up the wielder’s dark form.
A sphere of water encased the man’s head. Around it, a faint nimbus bathed him in a blue glow. She watched him struggle and claw at it, and she realized it was her own outpouring of hatred that held it there.
A laugh bubbled from her lips, and the nimbus winked out. The water dropped to the floor in a rush. Recruit Trakaw coughed and spluttered, retching like Crissa had been doing at each of their lessons.
Crissa Blakwell was indeed a water wielder.
