Page 36 of The Gilded Ones

I will submit. I will be faithful.

I won’t think any more dangerous thoughts…

Gazal finally leads the way back to the courtyard. The moment we reach it, I buckle to the ground, suddenly too exhausted to remain standing any longer. The others do the same, but they’re laughing and giggling as well, savouring the discovery they’ve just made, the joy they’ve just felt. The joy I’m still trying to forget.

Oyomo, forgive me. Oyomo, forgive me.

It’s not right, the euphoria I felt while running. I must cast it from my thoughts.

I’m almost grateful when Gazal glares at us with her usual cold expression, distracting me from my thoughts. “That’s enough for this morning’s warm-up, neophytes,” she says. “Make your way back to your rooms. You have twenty minutes to clean yourselves and change into the clothes you have been given, then ten more for breakfast. Lessons start promptly.”

That’s the only information she gives before we hurry back to our rooms.

“Look, there’s Jeneba,” Britta says, pointing to the cheerful Southern novice as we stream outside later in the morning.

By now, I’ve washed, dressed, and eaten the breakfast of oats and honey the assistants set out for us. The accompanying sausages, I gave to Britta, since the smell of them turned my stomach.

I don’t think I can eat meat any more.

“Ye wanted to ask her about the Heraldry, remember?” Britta says, before hurrying towards her. “Honoured Elder Bloodsister Jeneba! Honoured Elder Bloodsister Jeneba!”

Jeneba turns towards us. “Neophyte Britta,” she says. “Is something the matter?”

“No, just got a question for ye, Honoured Elder Bloodsister – the Heraldry…where is it?”

“In the Hall of Records next to the library on the upper floor.” She pauses, glances at Britta. “Was it your mother or grandmother who was a Shadow?”

“Mother – possibly,” I say, drawing her attention to me.

One of her eyebrows raises. “So it’s for you, Neophyte Deka. How intriguing. Well, good fortune to you getting there.” When Britta and I glance at her, confused, she explains: “Neophytes are allowed into the library only on free days, and you get those only after the first three weeks are ended. So again, good fortune to you, neophyte.”

The moment she’s gone, I whirl to Britta, horrified. “Three weeks? I can’t wait that long.” Who knows what will happen between now and then? What if we start training with deathshrieks? The novices told us at breakfast that they didn’t do so until their third month at the Warthu Bera, but that was because they were training only for raids against local deathshriek nests.

Now that the deathshriek migration is upon us, everybody’s preparing for the campaign, which means we’ll be trained even more intensely than they were. I wouldn’t be surprised if we had to spar with deathshrieks starting this week.

“There has to be another way – there has to!” I say to Britta, panic rising. What if my eyes change colour again in their presence? What if someone sees, exposes me?

Dread chokes me as I think of what could happen: the karmokos forcing me into the caverns beneath the Warthu Bera to conduct tests the way the elders did back in Irfut, the jatu dragging me away to be executed again and again. I can’t do that again, I can’t! I have to learn about Mother, find some method to control whatever ability is growing inside me.

Right now, the Heraldry is the only hope I have.

I try to calm my thoughts as Britta replies: “There will be, Deka. We just have to search for it. Besides, isn’t it a good thing ye can sense the deathshrieks?”

I still. “What?”

“Think of how useful it’ll be when we go on raids an’ such. It could be very valuable. We could use it on raids, spot the deathshrieks before they ever appear. It might give us an advantage.” Britta shrugs, completely unaware she’s just upended my entire world view.

Valuable…

All this time, I’ve been terrified of my ability. But what if it’s a useful weapon – a sword to unsheathe when the situation requires. And Britta saw so easily what I could not, accepted so easily what even my own family couldn’t.

Tears sear my eyes and I blink them back.

I watch as she continues: “Perhaps instead of tryin’ to hide it, ye should try to master it. Control it.”

“You have a point,” I finally manage to say.

“I do, don’t I?” She seems very pleased with herself. “Let’s find out what we can about yer mother, an’ then we can start training…after we finish these first few weeks, that is.” She pulls me onwards, following behind the line of other girls.

---