Page 84 of A Touch of Stars and Stones
I open my eyes to see her questioning me.
Ascella’s face is right there, right at the forefront of my mind. I had no control over that, and I’d be devastated to do something like that to Kyra.
“Small steps.”
“You’ll need to learn to take bigger steps if you want to keep up.”
“But what…” I start, but don’t finish, nervous about voicing this fear.
“Go on.”
“You don’t think a Fifth is cursed, marked with… death?” I raise the question that’s been hiding in my mind since the experiment in the classroom, like the shadow of a wraith waiting to claim me.
“No. Why would you say that?”
“Because of what happened today—what’s been happening to me.”
“No. Although I can see how it might feel like that. Don’t be afraid. Read. Practice, and I’ll work with you again. No force or trying to win between us, just practice.”
“Thank you. You have no idea how much that means to me.” The hug I’ve been holding back from giving her for the past few days bursts free, and I wrap my arms around her, appropriate or not.
There’s a hum between us. But I mentally picture the water—the well—and the stillness to it. And the hum doesn’t grow. It doesn’t change or stutter into visions.
Kyra splutters but then relaxes into it, but she doesn’t wrap her arms around me. That’s okay. I can live with that.
“I’d better go. And you need some food. Remember, yourwellneeds to be kept full, and so you need to look after yourself.”
I smile at her as she skips up and across the room, her braids swaying down her back.
“Thank you, Kyra. I mean that.”
I let her leave and go over her sage words before lying back on my bed and mentally focusing on the well I’ve now found. I think of the stream back home where I found the small piece of quartz and lean over to pick it from the table, rubbing it between my fingers, and go back to building a picture of my power in my head.
No curse of death in sight.
The next morning, I’m dragged from sleep by a loud and insistent gripe and grumble in my stomach.
That’s what going to bed without dinner will do. It also means I won’t be late for training, either. Win-win.
Sort of win, I correct.
As I slide out of bed, I anticipate the harsh protest from my muscles, but they feel remarkably good, considering yesterday. Maybe that medicine really did help. Quickly, I wash up in the adjoining bathing room and dress in the now-familiar black training clothes Kyra first stocked my wardrobe with. I’m still adding my shirt over the top, not quite comfortable to be wearing just a second skin for a top. Everyone’s looking at me already, and I don’t want to add to the list of shortcomings.
Although if it were Ten watching me, I might reconsider.
The hallway outside my room is still dark; the dull flicker of a few lit sconces is the only source this early in the morning until I reach the food hall, where the glowing embers from the fire still burn gently, licking at the charred and burned coals.
I wonder if I’m too early for food, but my nose says otherwise. There’s no buffet set out for us at the hatch, but Micah did say I could always go into the kitchen and ask.
So, I do.
Entering, I watch as a half dozen people busy themselves around the simple but apparently effective kitchen set-up. Hovering in the doorway, I wait for an invitation or for someone to notice me, content to enjoy the smell of fresh bread and be transported home for a moment.
A young woman finally notices me and stops in her tracks between two benches. “You’re early,” she proclaims in a flat tone. “What will it be?”
“Um, whatever you have that’s ready. Sorry, I missed dinner, so I’m hoping to have an early breakfast.”
“I’ll get you a plate. You can wait in the hall, and I’ll bring it out.”
