Page 28 of A Touch of Stars and Stones (Kirrian #1)

She helps me bathe and sets out the gown she’s chosen, which is beautiful but ridiculously grand with multiple colours depicting the Orders in embroidered threads covering the bodice.

It sweeps into a simple silhouette that doesn’t make me want to hide under a shirt.

She’s even laid out my training boots, perhaps for fun, but I choose to believe we’ve come to know each other enough that it’s her way of showing me a compromise.

“Is Lyle?” I start, terrified that she won’t be there, and all of this will fail. It’s at the top of the list of my worries, next to having to touch that stone table again.

“Lyle will be there.”

The gentle release on my heart eases me. “Do I need to do anything?”

“No. This is your day. Your favourite food, drink, anything you want.” Kyra radiates excitement, and I try to find a similar emotion. But all I have is trepidation. Kyra skips out of the room to do whatever Kyra busies herself with and leaves me.

So, I set the dress ready on my bed and grab one of the books we borrowed from the library.

The pages are old and stained, with a musty smell from the decaying leaves.

I’ve been reading about each Order, trying to understand the nuances of each one better, and it’s the turn of the Guard.

Ten’s Order—perhaps the hardest to grasp, as their ability or magic is unique and varied.

It’s less about physicality and more to do with the mind.

Strategy, quick thinking, cunning, and instinct, all heightened and woven into their very being, using the latent powers they were born with as a road map of sorts.

Their documented powers all feel different to reading about the other Orders.

They are subtle and less obvious, and I feel like I’m missing part of the code to decipher the true meaning and ability.

Warriors are the easiest. Their powers all revolve around physical abilities of increased or improved strength. Speed, physical strength, and sight.

I shut the book and add it to the pile on the side table next to my things.

The teacup, the brooch, and the pebble. I pick up the quartz and rub it in my hand as I think about my old life in Estereah.

These were my prized possessions—such small things that I was proud to have collected.

They feel smaller here, like they aren’t as special, because everything in Kirrasia is different and spun with magic or riches.

Will I ever go back? Can I go back?

I’ll be a Kirrian—and maybe able to believe it. Not just accepted because of the power that’s erratically tearing at me. Or so Ten, Micah, and Kyra have all told me. I’ll have actual magic from a Goddess.

Yet, with every question answered, there’s more behind it, waiting to fall and crush me under its weight. I hope I can ask Lyle to explain all the gaps and holes in the world she’s brought me to.

Kyra keeps me occupied after she returns with more food and treats and insists on braiding my hair into an elaborate style for the ceremony.

She weaves her fingers through my loose curls, taming strands and twisting them together.

I’m stiff and can’t relax the whole time, waiting for something to happen—for her to graze my skin and render one of us unconscious.

But her fingers work deftly, belaying her experience of working without the need for direct touch.

I couldn’t be more thankful.

Kyra helps me into the dress, which is far too beautiful. The attention to detail on the bodice puts anything I’ve ever seen before to shame. Secretly, I don’t want to have to take it off.

“It’s time,” Kyra announces.

“Wait, Lyle, she’s not…”

The door opens on my protest, and Lyle is there, in the flesh, just the other side.

Purple shadows darken her eyes, the worry I saw there weeks ago when everything changed now embedded into them, clear and present to witness and dulling the usual bright colour I’m so used to seeing.

I want to run to her, to fling my arms around her neck and take comfort that she’ll be at my side, but I falter, not sure if she’ll embrace my touch or reject me. It doesn’t stop a tear from slipping free from my lashes and splashing my cheek.

“Oh, Ever. I’m so sorry. If I could have been—” She stops as she steps into the room, looking me over.

We both keep a few feet between us, but in my heart, there’s no distance at all. She’s here. For me.

“It’s fine. You’re here now, right?” I don’t ask where she’s been, but wherever it is, she’s lost weight and even looks sick.

“Of course. You look… radiant.” She runs those darkened eyes over me, and the smile on her face is genuine and warm. Familiar. And it sets something to calm in my chest, putting something to rest.

“Thank you. It’s not really me.”

“Nonsense. I won’t hear another word.” Kyra beams at me, and I return the smile gladly, swiping at my cheeks. “Now, come on, you two.” Kyra hustles us out of the room.

My fingers vibrate with restraint to keep them by my side and not snake them into Lyle’s hand as we leave the residence and out into the courtyard of The Tower.

As soon as I step foot outside, I realise what this celebration might mean in the eyes of the Kirrians.

People light up The Court as we walk through.

Lanterns illuminate the air, music plays, strings and chords, a joyful melody follows us, and the air even feels warmer than it did earlier in the day.

As we walk through the main street and out towards the path that Ten took me on, more and more people join us. They seem as buoyant as Kyra, talking and singing amongst themselves.

The hum of people drowns out my worry, and I look between Lyle and Kyra repeatedly, trying to relax.

Until the shadow of the forest and the edge of the mountains come into view, quelling any joy I’d leeched from the people around me.

A foreboding, similar to the one I felt when I visited the spot with Ten, seeps into my veins, but I keep my feet moving, sure and steady, not wanting to pay it any attention.

I can do this.

Everything will be better once this is over. That’s what everyone keeps telling me.

So far, I only recognise Lyle and Kyra, and I wonder if Ten and the others are waiting.

The moon—Aslendrix—is heavy in the sky, a formidable presence. Her warm light, tinged with a summer glow, shows us the way. I try to feel for some sort of tether, some sign, that the moon is, indeed, a Goddess, but there’s nothing, no magical connection.

The walk feels shorter than the journey with Ten. My apprehension is speeding things up, perhaps.

As we approach the clearing, I see the Orders waiting, and my steps falter for a second before I set them right.

I walked into the hall with my head up. Nothing has changed here.

The four heads, Rowan, and the other Custodians are all present. And the trainees.

Micah is there, his face beaming, and he smiles at me as Kyra goes to join him, and I muster one in return, grateful for his endless positivity.

But it’s Ten that I’m looking for. Ten, who I want to see and seek reassurance from. My eyes sweep over everyone until I see him, half in shadow, next to his father, in the group near the head of the stone table.

“Lyle?” I check.

She turns to me. “This is a gift, Ever. I’m sorry for so many things. And maybe one day, soon, I can explain more of my reasons to you.” I stare into her eyes, desperate for more reassurance than the weak offering.

She steps away, towards the Maker whom I hadn’t noticed until now.

The music stops, and I’m left waiting in front of the stone. The two pillars seem taller andmore ominous in the dark, snaking up into the sky.

The moonlight casts shadows that seem to dance with eager anticipation around us.

My eyes look over the spot I made contact with, where that dread leeched into me, and the steady thrum of my heart picks up and jumps in my chest at the memory.

At my fear. The beating races to a crescendo that has my fists clench so tightly that my nails dig little crescents into my palms. My own offering to Aslendrix.

“Step up, Ever. Take your place,” the Maker commands inside my mind.

I look to Lyle, who smiles and nods as if she knows the next steps I need to take. She must have done this. Everyone here has done this.

Glancing down, I step out with my boot and take the first step forward. And another until I’m climbing the footholds to the top of the stone table, with Lyle following.

Looking out, the people around grow quiet, but their anticipation builds like a thick, invisible haze over us all. The beat of my heart hasn’t slowed, and now provides a rhythmic music for me. It’s so loud.

My eyes lock onto Ten’s, as best as possible, and I wonder if he can see how frightened I am—how scared I am.

“Who stands before Aslendrix to offer their gift in return for her blessing?”

“I do. May Aslendrix continue to bless Ever Hart. May she grant her the knowledge and power to prosper and grow, giving back to Kirrasia and beyond.” I listen and wonder if this is a script that all Advocates read from.

Lyle holds her hand out to me, and I stare at her, one final look, to make sure this is the right thing, the only thing, I should be doing.

Her nod confirms it and gives me the permission I need to hold her hand, gripping it tighter than ever.

A hum of energy crackles in my palm, growing and growing, like putting your hand in a bush of nettles and feeling the light stings tickle and prick over and over again.

My eyes make a cautious glance at the sky, at the moon, as I wait for… something. But it doesn’t come.

I look back at Lyle, then at Ten. And finally, the Maker.

“Fifth.” The word slams into my mind, and it’s all I hear as the Maker speaks aloud.

And then I’m hit with a searing, all-consuming pain slicing through me. I rip my hand from Lyle and cradle my head as I fall to my knees.