Page 54 of A Touch of Stars and Stones
“See you tomorrow,” Ten says goodbye in a rush, and the disappointment ripples through me. Something clearly happened between him and the Maker.
He turns to walk away, and I watch, but then he stops and turns back. “Why did you take Calix’s hand and not mine?”
A thrum of energy hits me as he looks at me, waiting for an answer. It simmers, rising between us and growing stronger with every beat of my heart.
Okay, I wasn’t expecting that question. And it’s my turn not to answer right away.
“You asked me to help you, and I’m trying,” he adds as if this will prompt me.
Is he upset I didn’t touch him? Even after what happened before? We were on different teams.
“Don’t you remember what happened last time you touched me?” The panic in his voice and the weariness afterwards are ingrained in my memory and aren’t what I’d choose to return to. “I don’t know what’s happening to me or what my power is. I don’t know what triggers it, what makes the earth shake around me, or causes me to hear voices—even allow you to hear voices—in my head or why those visions hit me so hard. I didn’t know what touching Calix would do, but I didn’t want to appear scared in front of the other trainees, either. It’s obvious that we’ll be rivals in some way or other in the future, and I’m already weak in their eyes.”
He listens. Nods.
In my mind, I imagine holding his hand, with no fear, no shadow over what might happen and no piercing pain or blinding visions.If I could have taken your hand without fear, I would have.I don’t say it out loud, not ready to show all my vulnerabilities at once.
“At least I’ll be able to move in with the rest of you soon. Maybe start feeling normal in all of this?” I change the subject. “When is the Claiming Moon? And should I know what that means?”
“Ten days.” He doesn’t elaborate.
“Right. Ten days.” I rock back and forth on my heels, hoping for something to fill the silence that’s drifted between us.
“See you tomorrow.” His eyes search mine for another long second, and then he leaves.
Over the next few days, a fragile routine emerges.
Kyla brings me breakfast before dawn and fills the small blue teacup I brought from home with flowers as I finish reading whatever chapter or section I think might provide some insight from the books Micah and I liberated.
I dress and head down to the training area to join in with the rest of the exercises.
I’m pleased to say that after the obstacle course, everything is much easier.
Kind of.
Running, sprinting, sparing, and throwing.
With knives.
Fighting with knives.
At least for the others.
I’m not allowed to do that part with other trainees. Rowan is adamant I’m more of a risk to others, so I have a straw dummy and wooden daggers like I’m a child who can’t be trusted.
Everything they do is new to me. But I try, as if my life depends on it. Because somewhere inside of me, there is a growing sense of unease that maybe it might.
The weird words from the Maker still linger, and I re-question everything I’ve thought about, leaving me with even more questions. They’re bottling up, choking me with the fear that the unknown conjures, lingering like mist refusing to clear on an Autumn day.
We take a break in the training residence hall for lunch, and I speak with Raiden and Ascella. Listening is more accurate. Micah’s always talking, so getting any words in seems to be tough for everyone, but at least he’s entertaining and a great distraction.
Afternoons, I’m in lessons with the others, and we all have our heads buried in books. I continue to immerse myself in learning everything I can about the world I’ve known nothing about, and the knot in my stomach eases with each new line of information I gather.
I learn that the Maker was the first person to be gifted power from Aslendrix. How the original Orders sacrificed in exchange for their gifts from Aslendrix, and had to learn what their powers were, just like I’m doing now.
The two solstices are special festivals, and the summer solstice is the only time Kirrasia pays tribute to the sun God, Novandia, Aslendrix’s brother.
The moon is seen as more powerful here, not the sun, which is more typically worshipped in Sunatora, a place I’d heard of before and knew about, at least. The concept of gods and goddesses was something I still had to fathom, and I often feltlike my head was going to explode when I got back to my room in the evening.
