Page 25 of A Touch of Stars and Stones (Kirrian #1)

But that doesn’t happen. All I feel is a sizzling, almost painful buzz against my palm that seems to course through me, building stronger and stronger until I feel ready to burst. And then I see Calix, his other hand holding his wrist, the grimace on his face.

I snatch my hand away, and his knees hit the ground.

“Shit, I’m sorry.”

“Go. You’ll have to take my spot,” he moans.

Ten looks between me and Calix. His eyes are cool and calculating and not offering any of the comfort I’ve enjoyed before. My chest tightens, but my legs and arms feel alive, nearly shaking with energy.

I watch Ravi sprinting towards us, his legs slowing as he sees us all gathered around, even though Capella is in front of him.

“Come on, Ravi!” I call.

He runs towards me, and then I take off. My legs are sure beneath each step, and while I don’t feel the ease of speed, there’s an assurance that I won’t fall if I push myself harder. Calix’s strength.

My mind focuses on what’s in front of me, as I balance, plant my feet, and launch up the first A-frame, now spiked with more wood and small branches to ensure an easy climb. My hands reach for the summit and pull me over, and I scale down the other side.

Keep going. Keep going. Breathe.

The course feels like it’s never-ending, and the energy I’d taken from Calix—the power—is draining fast. But I don’t falter. I pull myself up, over and under, not paying attention or daring to look across at the other team until all that is left is the run for the line.

I can do this. I can do this.

My knees rise, my legs pump, and I run.

Halfway, my lungs start to burn, my throat closes up, and it’s the sprints all over again. And there’s nobody around me. But I’ve come this far. I won’t let this beat me. Just a bit further.

Calix is the last to race, and I hope he’s recovered enough to bring this home against Micah. Because all of a sudden, the desire to win–to beat someone–is right there in my chest, as if thinking it has stoked it to life.

I all but fall over the line, and to my relief, Calix races off.

My heart is going to explode, I’m sure. And despite every part of my being wishing I didn’t, I drop to the ground, rest my arms over my knees, and breathe.

“Pretty risky, Ever.” It’s Ten’s voice. And he sounds cross.

“Yeah,” I pant.

“You did good.”

I nod, still not looking up at him. The sweat beads on my forehead, and the heat from my exertion blooms over my face.

“You’ll likely win now.”

“Good.” I finally look at him, and I’m hit with that heat—the sensation I’m starting to associate with him. Like it’s there, even if we don’t touch, simmering between us.

He puts his hand out to help me up.

Our eyes lock. I want to. I can feel he wants me to take his hand like it’s the most natural thing in the world. But I don’t.

I can’t.

I have no idea if what happened last time will happen again or if I’ll bring him to his knees like I just did to Calix.

Instead, I shove myself up from sitting and brush the dust from my clothes, and he takes a step back.

“Ever.” Rowan interrupts. “When you’ve got your breath back, the Maker has asked to see you.”

“Now?” I wheeze.

“When the race finishes.”

I look at Ten.

“She’ll be in the Great Hall,” Rowan adds, turning to leave, and I go back to heaving air into my lungs. “We’ll delay study. No more concessions for you.”

How kind of him.

I look back at the obstacle course and can see that Micah is falling behind, but not as much as I might have expected. I’m not sure if that’s a reflection of what I did to Calix or on Micah.

Ten and I stand and watch, side by side. Tension builds, growing thick in the air, anticipation lacing every atom and speck of dust.

Warm, sparkling.

I want to lean in towards Ten. It’s as though he’s pulling me towards him, but I know that will be a bad idea.

We stay silent, and I listen to the final cheers of the people around us as Calix and Micah race to the end.

Calix crosses first, and I smile. The rush of winning and not making a complete fool of myself infects me, making me feel… joyful.

“Quite a day,” Ten says, breaking the silence.

“Yeah,” I say, and finally, my lungs ease.

“Nailed it.” Calix comes up to Ten and grins, breaking the tension between us. Calix nods to me and then heads towards his sister.

He’s not what I expected. But that’s maybe because I was on his team. Have I shown him something good or bad in me?

All the trainees seem to dissipate after the race. And now I just feel awkward, still standing with Ten. “So, the Maker has summoned me—” I start.

“Everyone sees her before their Transference. It’s nothing to be worried about. She uses it to work out what she needs to forge for you.”

“Forge?” I scrunch my brows together. “I didn’t think I’d need a sword here.”

“No,” he laughs. “Your stone. She makes them to fit you. Your stone needs to be in contact with your skin, sitting in a mount, or wrapped in metal, but connected to you. We all have them.” He raises his left hand, and I see the purple stone embedded into the leather cuff.

Just like the one I saw on Capella and the necklaces on the others.

“Lyle showed me her necklace. That was in the moments of ‘way too much new information’, but she said it was important.”

“I forget you’ve still got to learn all of this.” He offers a sad smile.

I twist the ring I’ve worn since leaving home and wonder what my new piece of jewellery will be. Having something special, just for me, will be novel, but then I remember what else Lyle said, and it makes me nervous. “Is it true you’ve always got to wear it?”

“Maybe. Probably. There aren’t many people who volunteer to try and remove it. But it has happened. There are histories of when Watchers don’t find people in time, or people have been in battle.”

“Battle?”

“Not for years. Relax.” He chuckles. “You’ll read a lot about the histories. And more if you’ve kept that book in your room.” He grins.

“You can’t blame a girl. I’m in the dark here.”

“Come on. We should get you to the Maker. When she asks, she’s not really asking. She’s giving you an instruction.”

My face cracks into a full smile at his words, relieved that he’s not taken offence at the offer of his hand. “Thank you.”

Ten seems to have taken it upon himself to escort me to my meeting, and unlike the other night, I’m not upset about it now. I’m relieved.

We make our way towards the bridge, the constant divide back towards The Court. “Do I have to change first? I’m hardly dressed for a formal audience.”

“Believe it or not, those formal dinners aren’t as often as they might look.”

“Well, it was a little over the top for me. It seemed to suit you, though.”

“I’ve sat through my fair share. Not by choice.”

“Family obligation?”

“Maybe not all the time. I’m glad I went to the last one.” His eyes cut to me, and my cheeks warm as I take the meaning personally.

“How’s your mother?” I ask.

“I’ve still not spoken to her.”

I nod, not sure if that’s a good thing or not.

We make the rest of the journey in silence, weaving through The Court. I try to take in something new every time I walk through, like the hut that has delicious, sweet aromas coming from it or the one that looks more like a tavern, with tables set up out in the sun.

And then we’re outside The Tower, and Ten takes the lead again, hitting the stairs.

“Do I knock?”

He shrugs as I stand in front of the door. “If you’re invited, I’d just go in.”

“Do I need to make a good impression on her? Will she give me some random power if she doesn’t like me?” I check.

“Doesn’t work that way.” He shakes his head.

“Well, as I still don’t understand how it works…” I turn to the door. “I’ll knock.” I raise my fist and bang on the door, but it barely makes a sound against the thick, ornately carved wood. So, I opt for Ten’s plan and push the doors open.

It’s only been a few days since I first came in here, but that time seems to have dwarfed so much of my old life.

I walk as confidently as possible into the room, my head facing forward, my spine straight. And although I’m desperate to look back for Ten, I don’t.

When I reach the bottom of the dais, I pause, looking up at her sitting in a wooden chair, with two others flanking her, just like last time. No other members of the Orders are present.

“You have questions,” the Maker speaks to me.

“Many. Too many,” I answer under my breath.

“Your Transference will fall on the Claiming Moon,” she states. Just like that. “Who will be your Advocate?”

A deep pull on my heart takes hold andwraps around my chest as I think about this.

I’ve only one option. “I’m not sure if Lyle would.

Do you know where she is?” I want to see her, to fill her in on everything that’s happened, and to have her on my side through this. She was the one to bring me here.

“Lyle has been helping The Chamber with an investigation. We’ll see that she returns in time for the ceremony.”

“Can’t I see her before? She’s my only family.” Understanding why she’s kept so much from me for so long may still take some adjusting, but I love her. I need her.

“That may not be possible,” one of the other women says.

“It’s not just you who has questions, Ever Hart.”

I tilt my head at the Maker. It’s spooky how she does that.

“Did you mean for me to hear you?” I think the words as I stare up at her empty face.

“If you heard me, I intended it. Come here.”

I lift my foot, climbing the few steps up to the dais. She holds her hand out to me, and I glance back at Ten this time, who takes a step forward himself. But then jolts to a stop.

“No. This is your journey,” the Maker commands. “Alone.”

Fine.

I continue up and give my hand to hers. She wraps her second hand over the top, her worn and almost translucent skin covering mine.

My body braces. But nothing comes. No flashes. No voices. No images.

But I feel… A wave of dizziness washes over me, and I have to focus to stay standing. My breathing grows heavy, like I’m back on the obstacle course and my lungs are failing.

“I don’t… feel so good,” my voice is breathy.

And then I blink, focusing my eyes, trying to adjust before I pass out. Darkness seeps in from around my vision, drifting in like rolling clouds. Just as I feel my body give in—succumb—it all stops. It vanishes, and the air around me clears.

The Maker releases my hand and nods, turning and taking her seat once again.

“Don’t forgo this time, Ever. For all will change after your Transference. Aslendrix knows this is coming, and now we do too.”

“I’m sorry. What’s coming? I don’t understand.”

“Ever.” I turn to see Ten, who, despite the command from the Maker, seems to have made his way up here after all. “Come on.”

“This is not your journey, Aten Ciro,” she repeats, this time with far more force behind her voice, a depth and darkness rising from within her that’s haunting and terrifying to my ears.

Ancient and dark, and a clear warning. It’s terrifying how she can do that, such a frail, old woman, and it cements my view of her as a witch.

A slice of fear burrows inside my chest at her words.

Ten stares at herlike he’s having an internal fight, and I wonder if she’s doing the speaking-in-his-head thing.

What is she saying? Is it worse?

As my body begins to shake, the tremor travels down my arm to my hands, and I can’t shake the feeling that the shadowy darkness hasn’t quite left me. “I’d like to go.” I have to stop myself from grabbing his hand and walking out of the hall with him.