I cringe at how whiny I sound, but hey, I’m whining at him.
“Aslendrix will replenish your power. And then you will have no more excuses.” He turns away.
“How? Did that happen back in Kirrasia?”I ask Ten as I run my finger over the ring on my hand.
“You didn’t need it to, because you were there, under her spell, at all times, even when she was waxing and waning, she still radiated power to those who had undergone the Transference.”
“Did you ever wonder why only the weaker Kirrians are asked to leave to take up their responsibilities outside of her Aslendrix’s grace?” The Usher calls back. “Power. Ensuring the weak stay that way. The powerful kept in their positions, with no concern.”
He paints a grim picture of the Chamber and the Orders. I look at Ten and Crimson, and, hearing their way of being brought up into question, shows.
“When is the full moon?” I ask, while trying to bury all the other slivers of information, storing them in the library I’m trying to keep organised in my mind.
“Tomorrow.”
Despite everything, my lips tug into a smile at the first bit of good news we’ve had since arriving, and I reach for my necklace, taking comfort from it.
Once I can replenish myself, I can talk with Ten properly, work on propelling my power and hopefully learn how to get stronger and get out of here.
twenty-two
. . .
Ever
The full moon was a time for celebration in Kirrasia. A time for all of us to be at our strongest and enjoy what it afforded. Being so new to this world Lyle threw me into, it didn’t mean much to me before. But for all the faults, for all the pain of being kept in the dark, there were parts of being Kirrian I was looking forward to.
The full moon, the new moon, especially. Feeling connected to something. Enjoying something bigger than me alone. Learning more histories, learning about the Orders.
But the Nehandun camp wasn’t the same as living in the training residence, The Court, or within the Orders.
In fact, these few days had given me the impression that this camp was just a resting point, perhaps with the main rallying point or settlement somewhere else. Or, perhaps I’d spent too much time alone strategising over something I have no real knowledge of.
This morning, there were no cheers or bubbles of conversation. It was like the camp had emptied. That made meas anxious as when I first woke up on the floor back home after having another series of visions.
“Where is everyone?” I ask the Usher as he unlocks the gate to my tented prison.
“Most of the people here are Kirrian. It’s a full moon.” As if that’s enough of an answer.
The rations are waiting in the small area by the fire, and I help myself. “How long will we be here?” I ask between bites. Information is the only valuable resource I can work at achieving here, and I’ve not gathered enough.
“That depends on a few things. One, being your brother.”
“Is he anywhere close?”
The Usher doesn’t answer.
After eating, he leads me towards the training area. Crimson is already out in the centre of the training ring with Ten watching like a hawk. We save our energy and do little more than send a general feeling or pulse of energy along our connection, reminding each other that we’re safe—the reassurance we both need in this place.
Fenix doesn’t show himself, and the Usher doesn’t try to train me or insist on pushing my magic harder. He puts Crimson in charge, and she starts a warm-up involving my favourite activity—running—before placing a sword in my path. She swings, raises it, runs through a series of moves, then stands back for me to copy.
I do. And we fall into a routine. I can’t help but draw comparisons to her and Calix—his training regime with me—and for the first time, I see her as a potential friend.
We move through the strokes and combinations I’m competent with from practising with a wooden sword in Kirrasia, building my confidence, before she gets me to copy another set of commands.
“That’s enough for today,” the Usher pipes up.
“Seriously?” Crimson throws down her sword at his feet.
