The Maker waits in the same place as before, and this time, the tea service is already out, the familiar blue cup already steaming with herbs and spices. I take a seat and push my braided hair over my shoulder.
“Well done, Child.”
“Don’t call me that. And you can speak freely unless you don’t want anyone else to hear us?” I shoot a look at her two companions, who stand to the side of her.
“Ever.” She nods at me, maybe a little deeper than she would have before.
“I don’t believe in coincidences. Not after everything that has happened.” I’m not ready to talk about why she called me here, so pull the unfinished conversation from our last teatime to distract me.
“It is not a coincidence that you have a matching cup. All Fifths do. A gift, if you will, for everyone who has been blessed with that magic. You are, in a way, the one who has the closest gifts to my own, so I bestow a small indulgence.”
“But how did it come to me? I had it before I was a Fifth. Is it mine, or another hand-me-down from my mother?” Anger, an emotion that’s too familiar to me now, fizzes under my skin as I rub the ring on my finger. My hand reaches out to take theteacup. “The matching one is in my room, the one that I came with, and I don’t believe you have given me anything of use since I arrived.”
She tilts her head at my snipe.
“You have done so much in your short time with us, Ever. I wouldn’t want us to leave on bad terms.”
“I believe that choice is in your hands,” I shoot back. “Did you change your mind?”
“It is not my place. It never has been.”
“Well, maybe it’s time for that to change. Something has to,” I push her again, my frustration winning out.
“That is up to the Orders?—”
“It shouldn’t be!” I snap. “Their power is what?—”
“Be careful,Child. Remember, in life, there are people who are strong of mind, of heart. It comes in my guises, and not just in the power of their magic.”
“All the more reason why an individual should be measured by more than just their magic or what they accomplish in the trials.”
“And they are,” she answers, but she’s certainly blind if that’s her belief.
“No. If that were the case, there would be no uprising. No challenge.” I stand, pacing behind the wooden chairs laid out for us. She was just as stubborn in the courtyard yesterday. “You should rule. The Orders, fine, keep them, but things need to change. For Kirrasia to come together, there has to be a change. Taking Kamari and Rowan to prison isn’t enough. Kirrasia will tear itself apart from within.”
I sit back down and take a sip of the fragrant tea, letting the heat calm my temper.
“Why was Kamari wrapped up in all of this? Why did she help the Usher? Why did he need the books?” I let my questions get the better of me.
“Why does anyone need books?” She tilts her head again.
“To learn?” I guess.
“If the knowledge of what happened before was easily found, then what use would all of the effort to conceal the truth have been for?”
“Seriously?”
“You found that yourself, did you not? You felt like the information you were looking for was being kept from you. It was. Just not because of the reasons you thought.” She delivers the blow as if it should have been clear for everyone to see.
“Why?”
“Why what?” She looks upon me with her scarred eyes, seeing more than others with their sight intact might.
“Why didn’t you intervene?” Maybe I should rethink my role for her. Maybe she isn’t the one to help Kirrasia out of this if she could be so complicit in these actions.
“That has never been our place. The Orders rule. Aslendrix has always bestowed that. Where she places her magic isn’t our concern, as long as there are always peace and balance in the world.”
“There is certainly not either at the moment, and you could have stopped it.”
