Page 13 of A Touch of Stars and Stones
She nods as if that’s enough for the time being and trots on. And I’m left with another chapter of information to digest and live with.
Goddess?
We don’t stop until dusk, and I can’t gauge how far we have left to travel. The green hills of the Jade are still in the distance as if we’ve made no inroads to reaching them.
Lyle’s off her horse and has cut down a patch of longer grass for us to burn, perhaps, or sleep on, I don’t know. I pull my foot from the stirrup and slide from Nettle, feeling the pull and protest of my muscles with every inch of movement. “What shall I tie him to?” I ask.
“You can tie him to Sara. They won’t leave us, though.”
“How do you know?”
“They are from Kirrasia. This is the way home for them.” Her voice is warm, and it strikes me that perhaps this was home for Lyle, too.
I tie my reins to Lyle’s horse and look around. The sun is hiding behind thick clouds, shrouding everything in gloom. It has only been two days, yet I miss my room with its familiar window. I miss the table in the front room with all the trinkets ready to attract someone’s attention.
Every plain and simple thing about that house, the seemingly small life, suddenly strikes me at the centre of my heart. Here, now, everything around me is big and vast, and I feel lost in the middle of it all, lost in more ways than just my unknown whereabouts. It makes me feel insignificant, and I hate that.
Lyle settles on the nest of grass she’s laid out like a bed, drawing the thick woven blanket from her satchel. “There’s no wood here to burn, so we’ll have to sleep close together to staywarm. It’s mild, but sleeping under the stars will still give us a chill tonight.”
I take a seat next to her and bask in the slight relief of stretching my legs out after being on Nettle for most of the day.
She rummages in her bag and pulls out a couple of apples and the rest of the bread we had this morning.
We eat in silence. And then she lies back and pulls the blanket—the beautifully woven blanket we would drape over our laps in winter—over us before folding some of the grass around our makeshift nest, every movement careful and placed. Lying down, we’re invisible to anyone else who might be out here, which doesn’t seem like such an important consideration until I remember the men and Lyle being driven to kill them.
We both look up at the sky, waiting for the sun to finally give up and sink beyond the horizon. When it does, a gust of wind pushes a bank of cloud away to allow the moon to shine light down on us. It’s pretty, shining silver and bold against the rest of the sky.
“I was born two days after a new moon, which is when our power is at its weakest. My father gifted his magic through our Transference as my Advocate, but the trials showed me that I’d never have the level of power to stay in Court unless I was happy with a job I was too stubborn to carry out.” I listen to her speak, grateful for the words, even if they make little sense to me yet. “Kirrians can use me as a vessel or an amplifier, but my role in our world is clear.”
I let the words settle for a moment or two, not rushing forward with the questions that are building. Instead, taking my time. “There are a lot of things you’ve just said I don’t understand. Or even know where to begin trying to understand. Magic. We’re talking about magic powers, Lyle. It’s like you’ve kept me in the dark, and now you’re expecting me to take everything in and just be okay with it all?” I was glad forthe cover of darkness, which hid the emotion that I was sure streaked across my face.
“It will take time. And maybe I’ve been naive to keep you in the dark. But until now, I couldn’t be sure. It’s what…” she tails off.
“It’s what?” I push.
“It’s what… I thought was right. Now, sleep. It’s still a long day tomorrow.” She closes down again.
I can’t sleep.Is she mad?
As we lie in the grass, out in the middle of nowhere under the stars, I think over all the episodes I’ve kept to myself, all the split moments of pain or the thoughts or feelings that seemed to invade my mind. Are they what Lyle thinks are signs? Some premonitions of some dormant power breaking through? She said Awakening, didn’t she?
Lyle can hold light in her hand. How is that anything like what I’m experiencing? How is that deemed not powerful? Having visions, emotions, the ground trembling, none of that feels the same.
Even after Lyle’s breathing evens out, I can’t escape my mind running over every new piece of information. Ceremonies, power, a Goddess, Advocates and training—will I have to go through all of that? Is this what she’s taking me to Kirrasia for?
Eventually, exhaustion pulls me under, but I fight it because waking up will mean I’ll be faced with all the unanswered questions lurking in my mind. And they’ll reveal just how much Lyle has lied to me.
“Welcome to Kirrasia,” Lyle announces.
We had another night camped under the stars, and still, after setting off this morning to continue our trek, I saw nothing new, just more green.
We hadn’t passed over or through anything that I could see. And I was beginning to understand why people thought this was the end of Estereah. There was nothing here as far as I can see. Just more of the same.
“I don’t see anything different,” I reply crankily. Hungry, uncomfortable and angry at, well, everything, doesn’t foster good conversation. But then something washes over my skin, a faint brush causing my skin to pebble with gooseflesh under my shirt.
I might not be able to see anything, but I can, to my astonishment, feel something in the air.
And where I saw nothing but more hills a moment ago, I can now see the hills run off into a sandy expanse and, in the distance, a tall silhouette of a building or castle, as if growing out of the ground. It’s far, far away still, with huge shadowy mountains towering over it all. It’s rich and inviting, with shapes and colours I’d never seen before, all piecing together before my eyes. And not just my eyes. It’s like something is set alight in my veins. Like a new thrum of energy, a pulse.
