Page 10 of A Touch of Stars and Stones (Kirrian #1)

six

. . .

Ever

M y feet itch to move backwards, the quaking in my legs unbearable. I want to turn away, find Nettle, and ride back to our house, galloping all the way.

But I make sure I don’t flinch, even as my heart pounds in my chest and fear fills my stomach with an acrid dread.

I see the slight nod that Lyle gives to the witch next to me.

Was this it? Would Lyle leave me with this woman? In this place?

My fears want to take flight in my mind and overtake me, but I lock my body from moving.

“I see there are many questions still to answer. Step forward.” This time, I hear the words the witch speaks out loud, a small relief.

Lyle nods, encouraging me, and I have to remind myself that she won’t intentionally put me in harm’s way.

My whole life tells me that, but it still takes all my courage to walk towards the woman.

As I get closer, she raises her hand, stretching it out to hold before me.

Waiting. An urge sweeps over me like a phantom, and I place my hand in hers as if by command.

Her papery-thin skin feels like it might split and crack as her fingers close around mine, my stomach twisting at the sensation against my own skin.

A blinding pain, like I felt when we were leaving, cracks through my skull, splitting it open, surely, for that must be why it hurts so much.

Voices, images, feelings… they all swamp me, invading and taking over my mind.

I can’t remember when my legs gave out, but they must do because I’m crumpled on the floor, the witch looking over me with her sightless eyes when mine open again.

Lyle is there, too.

The witch looks at her with concern on her face, although how I can read that emotion between the lines and the sagging skin is a mystery.

It’s not like I can read their concern. It’s more… I can feel it. As though it’s hampering me, seeping into me.

It’s coming from Lyle as well.

“You are lucky. Or perhaps just blind. You should have brought her to us sooner. Did you really think?—”

“There was no reason to think she might be,” Lyle answers her with a fierceness that is still alien to hear from her tongue.

Another part-conversation I tuck away for inspection and questions later on.

The witch leans forward and places her hand on my head. I brace for another shock of pain, but nothing comes. She raises her head to the sky, and I see the sliver of moon slip from behind the clouds.

Then nothing.

“Take her inside. It will be a few weeks, but there’s time. Aslendrix grants us this. Her symptoms will subdue now she’s under her watch.”

An audible sigh comes from Lyle’s lips as I watch her and the witch in turn.

“Ever Hart, welcome to The Court. Kyra will take you both inside,” she says.

I pull myself up and grab the strap on my bag to steady myself as I stand on shaky legs. A petite woman, similar in age to me, I guess, with a soft smile, emerges from behind the witch and nods. Lyle moves first, and I follow. Blindly.

Stupidly.

My head is fuzzy, my body aching, and my heart still racing with fear.

Kyra escorts us to a room in amongst a labyrinth of doors and corridors, high up in a wing of the half-moon main building that shouldered either side of the tall spire, no, The Tower. The Chamber Tower that I collapsed in front of.

Kyra disappears as soon as she shows us to the door and opens it for us.

I look around, and I’m struck by the finery: the ornately carved wooden door and the plush materials decorating the sitting chairs and chaise lounge that fill the space in front of us.

Flames flicker on the walls, sending shadows dancing over them, and it’s bright despite the late hour.

After sunset, it was always dark at home, lit by only a few candles.

Looking around, my eyes want to take it all in and drown in all the details, but I’m bone tired, and there’s a chance I might collapse all over again if I stay standing for a moment longer.

I stumble forward and then realise there’s more—a room off to the side and beyond the door, a bed. There’s no question in my mind that I’m sleeping in that. I don’t care if Lyle has to take one of the soft chairs.

I’m also not ready to speak to her right now. Or look too carefully at the events of the last few days for fear that I may never be able to forgive her or order my mind to make any sense of anything ever again.

No. I can’t even look at Lyle.

Even if she’s the only person I have in the whole world.

I continue my trudge to the bed and collapse into the softness. I crawl up against the pillows, pull the bag that I’ve carried with me all this way, and set it on the little table next to the bed.

Tomorrow.

I will start asking questions tomorrow.

The dawn pours in through the window, flooding the room with light. And the sun creeps across the room, inching ever closer as it continues to rise into the sky outside. I watch. From the bed. The ridiculously comfortable bed that I fell unconscious in the moment I closed my eyes.

But I’m awake now.

I’m in a new kingdom, if that’s what they call it—Kirrasia.

In a new place, a city.

And magic exists.

Magic, that, putting things together, I might have, but it also might turn me mad or render me unconscious with pain. Neither fills me with excitement.

There’s a witch who I can hear talking to me in my head, and she can cause me such pain that it brings me to my knees with a simple touch.

And Lyle, the one person in the world I’ve thought of as family, has kept all of this from me. Watching me in her role as a Kirrian Watcher.

Is that it?

I’m sure I’m missing some of the finer points, but those are the highlights for this sunny morning.

I didn’t want to move from the bed. For a little while longer, at least, I could keep all of this in my head and pretend, maybe, that things would go back to the way they were.

“Are you awake?” Lyle calls from the other room.

I swallow the petty reply and force a cordial response. “Yes.”

“Would you like breakfast? We’ve not eaten much these past few days. You need to keep your strength up.” She appears at the door to the bedroom as she says this. Still, I keep my tongue behind my teeth because I don’t want to lash out.

“Sure.”

“You might want to unpack a few of your things. We’ll be staying here a little while. I’ll be back shortly.”

She gives me a soft stare.

Don’t hate me, Ever. You’re the most important person in the world to me. I just wanted to keep you safe.

“Stop it,” I grit out. I don’t want to hear what she’s thinking.

Her eyes flash wide for a moment, but unlike when we were leaving, I don’t feel anything along with the words, just patches of thoughts, like colours slipping into my mind.

She turns in a hurry, and I listen to the door pull close before I get out of bed and take a proper tour of our new residence.

So much for starting today on better terms.

Despite the sunlight, there are still candles burning throughout the rooms. I thought it looked rich and expensive last night.

Now, it shocks me all over again. The colours are vibrant and deep in tone, not faded or old, and there’s even a dining area I hadn’t noticed last night, complete with centre place settings as if we’re expecting company. Grand and formal company.

It’s far bigger than all the rooms of our house put together, with more wealth on display than we’d ever be able to make from trading and selling items back home.

Is this what Lyle’s life had been like before? She said she wasn’t powerful, so she became a Watcher. Did she lose out on a life living in a place like this?

So much for my neatly stacked list of questions. Ever since I woke up on the floor four days ago, I’ve been adding to the list, but it’s so long now, I can’t remember what to ask first, although two pressing queries were: Who was that witch, and what did she do to me?

Far too quickly, Lyle returns, and Kyra is behind her, carrying a tray of delicious-smelling breakfast treats.

“Good morning, Ever. I hope you slept well.” She blows into the room as if on a spring breeze, sets the tray at the table, smiles, and then steps back a little, her hands folded neatly in front of her.

“Thank you,” I mutter as I circle towards the table, unable to resist the smell of food after eating nothing much more than a few hunks of bread and apples for the last few days.

I take a seat and look at the dishes displayed in front of me.

Kyra approaches and pours a cup of coloured liquid. “There are pastries and custards, fruit and nuts, plus sausages. And bread. I wasn’t sure what your appetite would be like.”

“This looks wonderful.” I’d never seen so much food laid out for breakfast before. I snatch one of the golden, flaky pastries, and it melts on my tongue before I’ve even started to chew. The sweetness explodes in my mouth, erasing any bad thoughts from my mind.

“After breakfast, the Orders would like to meet you. And then, we can introduce you to the rest of the trainees.” Kyra outlines the plans that apparently have been made on my behalf.

I look at Lyle.

“The Orders would want to meet anyone coming from outside of Kirrasia. It’s nothing to worry about. A formality.” She offers a tight smile, and I can see she’s lying.

“I would’ve thought you’d lied enough by now. How about we only play with the truth from now on? I think you owe me that.”

She dips her head, and a wave of guilt hits me for making her feel bad. But I chastise myself. Lyle has lied my whole life. I shouldn’t feel bad for asking for the truth.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. As for the Orders, they will be wary of you. Especially as your magic has developed so quickly, so close to your birthday.” She’s still holding back.

“What else?” I push. “Will the witch be there?”

“She’s not a witch!” Kyra exclaims as if I said something highly offensive. “She is our Maker, the daughter of Aslendrix herself. She has overseen the Transference for all Kirrasia for hundreds of years.”