Page 7 of A Touch of Stars and Stones
“We ride. We’ll stop soon, and I promise I’ll start to explain things then.” With that, she lashes her reins, and her horse lunges forward, sprinting into a gallop. To my horror, Nettle follows. I cling to my reins, squeezing tightly with my thighs and pray I can stay in my saddle.
Lyle is true to her word. After only a short while at full pace, she slows and stops at a small stream. She dismounts ahead of me, and I offer a small thanks to anyone who might be listening.
My breathing slows as I jump down from Nettle, grateful to still be in one piece.
The horses head for the water, and Lyle fills one of the canisters to drink from.
“Here.” She hands me another chunk of bread. “Breakfast.”
She sits on the ground and picks at the bread. And just as I give up on ever believing she’ll speak to me, she clears her throat.
“I’m taking you to a place where magic is the norm.” She turns to look at me and holds my gaze, and I can’t work outif she’s watching for my reaction or just trying to convey the seriousness of that statement. “People with gifts—abilities—live there. They protect our world, our way of life.”
And then she stops.
Just like that.
As if we were talking about the plan for that evening’s dinner.
Nothing else comes, and I’m left with those few words.
Magic. Power.
Like the sunlight from her fingers.
“You can’t leave it like that, Lyle. That’s not an explanation.”
“It is. Everything else will come.”
“No, that’s nowhere near enough, please.”
But I’m met with infuriating silence. “So, if this court place is where magic is from, why aren’t you there?” My words are thick with accusation, my frustration from the last few days overflowing.
“I am a Watcher. My…” her eyes crinkle and brows furrow as she strains to find the words, and trepidation fills the pause between them. I can see that this is hard for her, and it softens my heart, which had hardened under her silence on the journey. She turns away, “My abilities are… limited. I was not blessed… I—” She stops again. “Many of us become Watchers, checking for signs of magic outside the reach of Kirrasia and The Court. And if we find anyone who might be having difficulty or displaying… abilities, we take them home. To The Court.”
“Like you’re doing with me?”
“Yes.” She looks back up at me. Her soft blue eyes, so familiar, always looking out for me. I just never imagined it could be like this.
With murder. With magic.
And what did she mean by difficulty? Is that what my episodes have been?
“I…” But the questions I’ve been saving vanish like mist on the wind. I can tell it’s hard for Lyle to talk to me about this. She’s struggling with every word, like they are turning to glass in her mouth as she speaks. She’s avoided this conversation for as long as possible, but why?
We’ve never had a relationship involving a lot of words. It’s not been needed, and I’ve never known anything different. Yet, right now, I wish there were more words—a library of words—because the prospect of more silence between us is terrifying.
She doesn’t seem to want to say any more. She finishes the bread, then pulls herself back onto her horse and tightens her hold on the reins, allowing both of us to focus on a task rather than what’s just been said. I follow her lead, although much less gracefully.
Nettle skips forward, keeping Lyle in sight. “How far is this place?” I brave.
“Two days. We need to travel past the Jade.”
One of the best things about being a trader was all the items that came through our house and took up residence on the table. I run my mind over all the maps or parchments I’d snuck a look at over the years. But none of the drawings had ever charted anything past the Jade because nobody ever came back.
four
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