Page 19 of A Touch of Stars and Stones (Kirrian #1)

Although the walk back is quiet, the air is heavy with unasked questions from both of us. And by the time we’re back at the entrance to The Tower, I hope that we’re both brave enough to ask them another day.

He pauses at the steps. “You got it from here?”

I had it long before now, but I’m less irritated that he walked me back after seeing Nettle and having a moment to think.

“Goodnight, Ten. See you at training.”

“Goodnight, Ever.”

“What are you going to do when you move to the training residence if you can’t wake up without me as your alarm?”

“Kyra?” My voice is thick with sleep. “What time is it?” I force my tongue to work the words, but my eyes are still welded shut.

“It’s early. But your schedule starts early, so here I am. Up. You have training.” She slides the curtains apart, letting the gentle glow of the sunrise in through the arched window. It warms the room and suddenly makes it easier for me to come around from my slumber.

Every muscle in me protests at my slow movement. “Fine. Do you have any further information as to what my training involves at this unearthly hour?” I make my way over to the washroom and try to wake myself up with the cold water.

“No. Just that they’re expecting you. I’m sure Micah will show you the ropes. And there’ll be more people to meet.”

And Ten will be there. If he even wants to talk to me after last night.

I go to my dresser, but as I cross the room, I notice the new clothes laid out on the bed. I eye them, and then Kyra. “You want me to wear these?”

“Well, it’s recommended for training. I’m still pulling the rest of your wardrobe together, but I need to wait until I know what Order you’ll belong to before I can finish that.”

These are new, expensive clothes and signify more than just helping me out.

“Who’s given you these? Where did you get them?” I ask, trying to piece it together.

“Oh, this is from the Custodians. Lyle explained that you left in a hurry and didn’t have time to pack.

That’s understandable. Nobody minds.” She smiles and picks up the black trousers.

They are much more structured and fitted than the loose linen trousers that I wore, just tied at my waist. “Just for the physical training,” she adds.

“I’m not allowed to do that.”

“Running? Drills? You’ll be doing those, believe me.” She sighs and buzzes around the room. “Now come on. Or you won’t have time for breakfast.”

She has me there. My appetite is growing with every meal.

I dress, shoving my limbs into the confining clothing.

First, the trousers, then the moulded top, which is soft like cotton but stretchy.

It clings to me, accentuating my chest and leaving my arms bare, matching the strip of my stomach that’s also uncovered, so I shove my loose shirt on, wearing it like a shield. My compromise again.

The shoes are a marked improvement from the slippers from last night, although, in the morning light, they were very lovely for their purpose. I was just mad.

Black leather sturdy boots lace up past my ankles and make me feel strong and secure. And suddenly, my entire mindset changes. I can do this, even if I’ve never done a day of training in my life.

It only meant I could get better at it, right?

I tie the laces, tuck them in, and stand to face Kyra. “Well?” I hold out my arms for her assessment.

“Your hair is beautiful, but will you let me plait it or something?”

“No, it’s fine. I’ll do it.” I step back, away from her, reaching out towards me. I don’t want her to risk touching me, not after what happened with Ten last night.

“Okay. No problem.”

My smile is shy and a little awkward. “Sorry. I just?—”

“It’s fine. It’s something that’s personal here, so I understand.”

I pull my hair into sections, weave it together, and secure it with the leather tie.

“So, am I now ready?”

“You will be. We can eat on the way to meet Micah. He wouldn’t shut up about you last night. Even if I’m the one who’s been assigned to you.” She leads me out of the room and indicates the little napkin with several pastries and fruit ready to be carried off with us.

I beam at the sight and grab them, following after Kyra. The sugar is an instant mood lifter, and I polish off my breakfast by the time we’re out of The Court.

As we walk over the dusty ground, I marvel at how sure my footsteps are. I’ve never worn boots like these. My well-used and trusty boots were what I thought comfortable, but I never want to take these off. They’re moulded to my feet already.

My steps grow less sure, and the nerves invade as the training buildings come into sight. I can see people moving around in the rings outside, so I’m late. Not the best impression. But was it my fault if I didn’t know the time I was expected?

“I’ll see you later today,” Kyra says goodbye before I’ve even reached the edge of the first ring. I look back at her before turning my attention to the task at hand.

Running.

Micah waves from the other side of the circle and detours towards me. “Morning,” he pants. “I hate drills. Come on.” He nods his head to get me to follow, and I reluctantly push my legs into a jog.

It feels… odd.

I’ve run before. When I was a child. But it’s not something I’ve ever done for enjoyment or necessity before.

Almost immediately, I can feel my weight through my thighs as my feet hit the ground, one after the other. And my breathing instantly changes, labouring to pull in air.

“How much of this do we do?” I call to Micah.

“Depends.”

“On what?”

“How much Rowan wants to punish us. Or at least that’s my interpretation. He thinks running will shut me up.”

“And?” I pant, already feeling out of breath.

I didn’t realise how unfit I am. I inwardly curse that I’ve never had a need to run before now.

Being shown up and lacking, in front of everyone, again, isn’t the way I wanted to start today.

But any hope that today will be better shrivels on my tongue as my mouth goes dry.

“And I’m still talking, so it’s not so bad. Breathe in through your nose, out through your mouth.”

We fall into line with the rest of the trainees. I thought that maybe they’d be dressed like me, in a uniform of similar clothes. But everyone wears something different, many of them in colours associated with their Order, which may help me keep track of everyone.

And, of course, my eyes land on Ten far too easily.

“We won’t be doing this all morning. It’s just a warm-up. There’s target practice later.”

“Micah Star, clearly, you aren’t occupied enough. Why don’t we move this to a series of sprints instead?” Rowan announces. I hear the collective groan, but all I can do is be thankful for the extra few seconds to recover.

The heat in my cheeks glows, and we’ve barely completed half a lap.

“Line up. Sprint across to the first dissection, turn, then sprint to the second.” Rowan calls out his orders, and I follow everyone.

“Sorry,” Micah murmurs under his breath. “But this doesn’t count for anything. Not really. It’s just good for us. At least, that’s what they keep telling me.”

“Why don’t you just shut your mouth before you do some real damage, hey, Star?” A big guy with broad shoulders, tanned skin, and muscles for days, someone I think I recognise from the dinner, shouts at Micah, who visibly shrinks for a moment.

“It’s probably best if I do.” I can’t tell if he’s being smart with the big guy.

“Go!”

Everyone races off, and I’m already on the back foot.

Pushing my legs to move faster than they are feels impossible.

They start to feel wobbly before I’ve even reached the first line.

But I keep going, forcing them. Pushing through the strain in the muscles that have never needed to work like this before.

Micah is a few paces in front, and I focus all my effort on covering the distance to tie with him. My jaw clenches, and I swing my arms harder, trying… hard… to make it.

We cross the first curved line of the circle, stop, and change direction. We’re the last ones off for the second sprint, and it feels like my lungs are going to burst out of my chest already. But I don’t give in. I can’t.

Up, down, drive, drive.

Until I’m back level with Micah. My eyes lift and focus in front, and I see Ten watching me, and the heat in my cheeks burns to life.

And the next thing I know, I’m passing him, my stride carrying too much momentum, and I sail past where the others have all finished, waiting, without so much as a bead of sweat.

I slow to a stop. My throat is as dry as the ground we’re running on, my lungs heave, and I want to collapse on the floor. Instead, I swallow down the gulps of air I need and try to regulate my thrumming heat. Slowly in. Slowly out.

“Again!” Rowan calls.

And I watch everyone jump into action, racing back the way we just came.

And I want to cry.