Page 26 of A Touch of Stars and Stones (Kirrian #1)

fifteen

. . .

Ever

T en walks me back to my temporary apartment.

“What did she say to you?” I ask, hoping he’ll share this experience with me, as I was in the room with him. Plus, it might give me something else to think about while I work at shaking the eerie feeling still clinging to me.

He said there was nothing to be scared of. We certainly have a differing opinion of what’s scary. She’s made me feel even more unsettled now.

“It was a warning. Pretty cryptic, really.” His voice lilts up, making light of the encounter.

“It stopped you in your tracks,” I push.

“She has that effect on people.”

“And what do you think she meant by, ‘Don’t forgo this time, Ever’ and the whole we know it’s coming?”

This time, he doesn’t answer and just replies with silence.

“Ten, you’re freaking me out.”

“Honestly, I don’t know.” He stops, pausing. “But it feels…”

“Ominous. Terrifying. Scary?” I offer some options for him to choose from.

“Maybe not that bad. I was going to say strange.”

We continue through the halls of the residence until we arrive at my door, ladened with more questions.

At least I know the Transference will happen, although I have no idea what the Claiming moon is. And I pray I’ll be able to see Lyle before then.

“See you tomorrow,” Ten says goodbye in a rush, and the disappointment ripples through me. Something clearly happened between him and the Maker.

He turns to walk away, and I watch, but then he stops and turns back. “Why did you take Calix’s hand and not mine?”

A thrum of energy hits me as he looks at me, waiting for an answer. It simmers, rising between us and growing stronger with every beat of my heart.

Okay, I wasn’t expecting that question. And it’s my turn not to answer right away.

“You asked me to help you, and I’m trying,” he adds as if this will prompt me.

Is he upset I didn’t touch him? Even after what happened before? We were on different teams.

“Don’t you remember what happened last time you touched me?

” The panic in his voice and the weariness afterwards are ingrained in my memory and aren’t what I’d choose to return to.

“I don’t know what’s happening to me or what my power is.

I don’t know what triggers it, what makes the earth shake around me, or causes me to hear voices—even allow you to hear voices—in my head or why those visions hit me so hard.

I didn’t know what touching Calix would do, but I didn’t want to appear scared in front of the other trainees, either.

It’s obvious that we’ll be rivals in some way or other in the future, and I’m already weak in their eyes. ”

He listens. Nods.

In my mind, I imagine holding his hand, with no fear, no shadow over what might happen and no piercing pain or blinding visions. If I could have taken your hand without fear, I would have. I don’t say it out loud, not ready to show all my vulnerabilities at once.

“At least I’ll be able to move in with the rest of you soon. Maybe start feeling normal in all of this?” I change the subject. “When is the Claiming Moon? And should I know what that means?”

“Ten days.” He doesn’t elaborate.

“Right. Ten days.” I rock back and forth on my heels, hoping for something to fill the silence that’s drifted between us.

“See you tomorrow.” His eyes search mine for another long second, and then he leaves.

Over the next few days, a fragile routine emerges.

Kyla brings me breakfast before dawn and fills the small blue teacup I brought from home with flowers as I finish reading whatever chapter or section I think might provide some insight from the books Micah and I liberated.

I dress and head down to the training area to join in with the rest of the exercises.

I’m pleased to say that after the obstacle course, everything is much easier.

Kind of.

Running, sprinting, sparing, and throwing.

With knives.

Fighting with knives.

At least for the others.

I’m not allowed to do that part with other trainees. Rowan is adamant I’m more of a risk to others, so I have a straw dummy and wooden daggers like I’m a child who can’t be trusted.

Everything they do is new to me. But I try, as if my life depends on it. Because somewhere inside of me, there is a growing sense of unease that maybe it might.

The weird words from the Maker still linger, and I re-question everything I’ve thought about, leaving me with even more questions. They’re bottling up, choking me with the fear that the unknown conjures, lingering like mist refusing to clear on an Autumn day.

We take a break in the training residence hall for lunch, and I speak with Raiden and Ascella. Listening is more accurate. Micah’s always talking, so getting any words in seems to be tough for everyone, but at least he’s entertaining and a great distraction.

Afternoons, I’m in lessons with the others, and we all have our heads buried in books. I continue to immerse myself in learning everything I can about the world I’ve known nothing about, and the knot in my stomach eases with each new line of information I gather.

I learn that the Maker was the first person to be gifted power from Aslendrix. How the original Orders sacrificed in exchange for their gifts from Aslendrix, and had to learn what their powers were, just like I’m doing now.

The two solstices are special festivals, and the summer solstice is the only time Kirrasia pays tribute to the sun God, Novandia, Aslendrix’s brother.

The moon is seen as more powerful here, not the sun, which is more typically worshipped in Sunatora, a place I’d heard of before and knew about, at least. The concept of gods and goddesses was something I still had to fathom, and I often felt like my head was going to explode when I got back to my room in the evening.

I’m bone tired. My muscles and my mind both protest at the work I’m forcing on them after twenty years of apparent relaxation.

Helping Lyle clean or cook, looking after the chickens or chopping wood, and venturing a little further to investigate the village or streams. None of that was work. Not compared to this.

And every day, I ask about Lyle. And Kyra gives me the same sad look.

The worry I have for her mounts, and the questions stick in my throat, adding to the dread forming in the pit of my stomach when I think about her. But there’s one thing that helps distract me above everything, and that’s being able to study the maps.

A dozen or so parchments and papers are laid out for us in one of our lessons, allowing me to see exactly what Kirrasia looks like.

The fine drawings, penned in ink, summon images as if plucked from a fairy tale, as I read names and places such as the Jet Mountains or the Larimar Lake.

I want to see them all, and a spark of impatience ignites not just to pore over these places in class but to see them brought to life right in front of me.

They’re right here. Outside the door.

Learning, the biggest distraction occupying every moment and every step of my days, keeps my mind from the Transference and what might become of me if Lyle isn’t my Advocate. If she’d even be my Advocate. And what is she helping with that’s keeping her away?

Micah insists on helping me study, and I can’t fault his kindness. He’s made this a lot easier, especially as he’s so eager for everything, except running. He still protests and plays the joker when the drills start.

Ten is especially quiet.

There’s no sign of the friendship that I thought had begun to grow, and certainly no more lingering looks or stolen moments. And it’s affecting me more than I’d like.

He’s nothing beyond cordial, polite. A ‘hi’ or slight smile in passing or across the class. It’s like he’s forgotten everything that was between us. And I don’t know if it’s because I’ve slighted him, or it’s what the Maker told him.

Two days before the Transference, nothing between Ten and me has changed, and I’m sick of sitting back and letting him be civil.

There was something between us. I was sure of it.

I couldn’t speak to Lyle, and my fellow trainees weren’t yet friends.

Only Kyra and Micah were close to that, so I latched on to the idea of bringing something back into my sphere of control.

I head Ten off before he can escape towards his apartment—his usual routine after the end of our lesson.

Standing in his way, I’m careful not to get too close. “Hi.”

“Hi.” His eyes scan me up and down in a blink before settling his stare on my eyes. “Everything okay?” he asks.

“No, everything is not okay. What happened?” I answer in my head.

Lessons haven’t revealed many more powers, and I still didn’t know what Ten’s is, but he heard his mother, so maybe he can hear my thoughts, too. The words ring in my head, and I watch his expression for any tell that he might have heard me.

But there’s none.

“I need your help, and you did offer.” I swallow the nerves that he might dismiss me.

The set of his jaw stiffens. “Okay.”

“You don’t know what I’m going to ask you,” I check, confused that he’s making it so easy.

“I know.”

“Why have you been avoiding me?” I ask, grasping onto my bravery that’s showing its face.

“I haven’t. I just—” His jaw flexes.

“Stop. Don’t lie. Ever since we went to see the Maker, you’ve avoided me. Subtly. But you have. If you do this for me, I’ll forgive you.”

“Forgive me?” He shifts his weight, and his brows pull in closer, his eyes looking darker than the usual warm chestnut shade that’s deeply tempting to fall for.

“Take me to where the Transference will be performed. I still have no idea beyond what you’ve already told me about it, and I think it will help to see where it will take place.

You told me I’d have time to learn. Well, I don’t anymore.

” I pause. I’ve read about the Transference, but it doesn’t really describe what happens, but rather, what the outcome is.

“And I’ve studied those maps, and there’s no sign of anything that might give the place away. ”