by Nicole Adamz
“Did you decide to grace us with your presence, Maewyn?” Caelum Pearl said, twisting pale blonde hair around a finger. Her pale blue eyes stared archly at us.
Maewyn smirked. “I thought you might need a reminder of what being Totality Claimed looked like, Pearl.”
Caelum Pearl sneered, clenching her single runed hand. She was a Fractional Tropos Caelum who controlled air currents while Elysian landed in the Market District. Everyone knew she thought it was beneath her.
“I suppose everyone needs a reminder of what deceit looks like,” she said.
“You astonish me, Pearl,” Maewyn said demurely, “I didn’t think you capable of recognizing deceit.”
Caelum Pearl’s eyes narrowed, and the finger twirling her hair stopped. “I can spot lies easily enough. Two are sitting at this table. One pretends she deserves to be a Caelum and the other pretends to be a Tyro.”
I inhaled swiftly, and my chair shot backward when I stood. Maewyn’s the most Talented Caelum here! She’s the Second Born Story Weaver in a century! My hands clenched.
Maewyn calmly glanced at me. “Pearl conveniently glosses over the fact that she’s lucky to be a Caelum at all.”
Caelum Pearl hissed quietly, turning toward me. “Better to be Fractional with some talent than Totality with no talent. You’re worthless, even with your markings. You should be glad you’re a tiny bit interesting here. You add a splash of color wherever you go.”
Laughter from the crowd peppered the air, and I winced. Don’t rise to the bait, Ari. Control yourself. It doesn’t matter what she says. I struggled to reign in my temper. My fingers slowly uncurled.
Caelum Pearl sneered at us, “Found yourself a new puppet?”
Sadness tinged Maewyn’s eyes, “No, Ari is a friend, Pearl. Something you never were.”
Caelum Pearl scoffed, giving me a heated glance. “Careful. Maewyn’s idea of friendship is to bite you on your a—.”
I reared back and punched Caelum Pearl in her pretty face. Blood spurted from her lips. I hit her again, sending her to the floor. I jumped on her, seething with rage. Anguished squeals tore from Caelum Pearl’s throat.
“Ari, no!” Maewyn gasped.
A few people ran toward Caelum Pearl’s prone form and hauled me away. Caelum Pearl whimpered, small sniffles escaping the hands covering her face. I jerked forward, brought short by the strong grip on my arms. I struggled and the hold on my arms tightened, squeezing painfully.
Maewyn slapped her palms against the table, her silver braids bouncing as she leaned forward and confronted the crowd. “Talents like mine,” she began, “are so rare they manifest once in a century. Yet, I am the Second Born Story Weaver. Do you think Ari is my Tyro by accident?”
“Don’t listen to her!” Caelum Pearl shrieked furiously, covering her damaged face. “I’m going to the Aerial Council about Ari’s attack on me!”
My mind cleared as a murmur of acknowledgement swept through the watching Caelum. I’d attacked someone. A Caelum, no less. True One forgive me. Panic surged through my veins, tightening my stomach. Animosity rolled toward me in waves, and I jerked my arms free, squaring my shoulders.
“I don’t think,” interrupted a soft, musical voice, “that anyone here could tell the Aerial Council the attack was unprovoked.” Docent de Ecru stood dwarfed among the Caelum.
Caelum Pearl’s breathing heaved through her split lips. She pointed at me accusingly. “She hit me—repeatedly!” she said.
“And when you tell the Aerial Council that she hit you—repeatedly—I will volunteer to tell them why. Ari’s actions were wrong, but so was your verbal attack of her and Caelum Maewyn. You insulted the Second Born and Ascension’s decision regarding Ari. Everyone in the room was a witness,” Docent de Ecru said calmly.
Caelum Pearl stomped a foot, and the people beside me slowly moved away while everyone weighed Docent de Ecru’s words. If they were questioned, I wouldn’t be the only perpetrator. Caelum Pearl would be punished too.
“Come on,” Maewyn said, grabbing my elbow.
Maewyn forced me out of the feast hall and turned when we were a safe distance away, grinning mischievously. “I don’t think anyone will forget the way she flew into the air. How did you learn to fight like that?”
I shrugged sheepishly. Practicing with Niles during his training as a Warder, I thought with a wan smile. When Maewyn left I made a split-second decision. Veering down a set of stairs toward the Great Library, I skipped my class. The air cooled as I descended to the base of Ascension.
The scrape of my boots echoed in the narrow earthward passage. Lanterns bracketed the curving wall, flickering. I shivered, unnerved by the eerie silence. When I twisted around the last curve the first level of the Great Library spread before me. Towering shelves were in neat rows, receding into distant shadows. The stale air smelled of aged parchment, dried ink, cracked leather, and dust.
Blue orbs floated near the ceiling, emitting an eerie glow in the heavy shadows. The color changed, and I blinked. Confused, I stared at the now green orbs. The color remained constant, and I it dawned on me that the orbs, created by Illuminary Caelum, were a safe source of light that marked the time in a room with no windows. Clever, I thought appreciatively. Why don’t they use them elsewhere in Summit?
I meandered further into the room. My wings twitched, and I paused to rotate my shoulders. A claustrophobic feeling skittered across my skin, and I swallowed, gritting my teeth. There’s no sky. I delved into row after row of scrolls and tomes.
Skies! I swore. What am I even looking for? I wasn’t even sure why I had decided to ditch class and come here in the first place. Something deep inside whispered ‘Envoy’. Oh, right. I thought sarcastically. Because I’m mentally plagued by an imaginary voice every night.
Rounding a shelf, I choked, catching the expletive on my tongue. Docent Pickwickian leaned over a mobile bin full of tomes and scrolls. I grimaced as he placed a scroll on the shelf without checking the title.
“Ah, Ari,” he said, “I’m organizing returned records, but I’ll be around if you need help.” He shuffled to another row, rolling the bin behind him. I moved toward the back, examining random shelves as I went.
Thick, grey coats of dust covered some tomes and scrolls. I brushed a hand across a dust laden shelf and grimaced, wiping it on my leggings. Heading further into the recesses of the Great Library, I selected a scroll at random. The aged parchment crinkled in protest. A quick glance verified it wasn’t anything interesting.
I discarded it for an unexpectedly heavy tome. Intrigued, I opened it. My eyes immediately glazed. Ancient Elysian text spilled across the parchment in unreadable symbols. I thumbed through a few pages before inspecting the cover. The hard leather was tooled with interlocking circles holding a smooth, opaque stone.
There’s no title. Fascinated, I stuffed the tome into my satchel and moved down the shelf. Maybe I’ll find something further back. Crackling parchment and fleeting whispers surfaced intermittently. Farther back, the smell of wet earth grew, and I wrinkled my nose. Isn’t anyone worried about dampness ruining the texts?
I hadn’t seen anyone else aside from Docent Pickwickian. Something rustled on the other side of the shelf, and I paused as a footstep whispered down the aisle. My skin prickled. Silence quickly descended. It’s your imagination, Ari. There are other people down here.
I rolled my eyes and rounded the corner, spotting an Anomaly dusting the shelf. Her stunted wings were a dingy brown in the glow of the orbs. I squinted, but her down-turned face faded into the shadows. I guess they have Anomalies clean here too.
I shrugged. They don’t mind being underground as much as Elysian. I unrolled a simple, large scroll, shrugging the tightness out of my shoulders. I hate being down here. The parchment stretched between my hands, revealing horns, wild hair, pointed ears, and an impish grin. My eyes widened, and I studied the charcoal sketch. Is this a Dweller?
There were stories about Dwellers, but I’d never seen o
ne. A pair of horns curled around the head, arching outward among waves of dark hair. A lean face with slanted eyes laughed over a mischievous grin. It’s almost…pretty. Elegant writing at the edge held a single word: ‘Sylvia’.
I always believed they’d look grotesque like tales said. The stories brought back from the trading caravans were of disfigured and hideous creatures. Not this exotic one.
“Lovely, isn’t she?” rumbled a voice behind me.
I jerked, finding Docent Pickwickian gazing over my shoulder. I glanced at the portrait with raised brows. She?
“This is a female Dweller. It’s never been clarified if the name belongs to the subject or the artist,” Docent Pickwickian explained.
The Dweller had been laughing when the sketch was done. She looks happy. The thought that a Dweller could be happy—or anything like me—was foreign. It didn’t sit well. Dwellers were something to fear. Not like me at all.
And yet… I glanced at the picture again. Uncertainty flooded me. She looks…normal. Well, kind of. Would she really kill me?
Docent Pickwickian returned two scrolls to the shelf beside me. Uncomfortable, I hunched my shoulders and replaced the portrait, pretending to scan a few tomes on the next shelf. Faded parchment curled around itself, my fingers skimming ancient texts until they stopped at a thickly bound tome. I hadn’t noticed it earlier.
Puzzled, I grabbed the soft, uneven edges, opening the first few pages. Indecipherable script scratched the pages, sometimes unevenly, making the tome hard to read beneath the orbs. The orbs changed to purple, and the latent memory of Maewyn’s letter surfaced. Skies! I swore.
I absently placed the leather tome in my satchel. I’ve been so absorbed I didn’t keep track of how many times the color changed. Maewyn won’t let me hear the end of it if I fail to deliver the letter.
Moving toward the front, I ran my fingers across shelf after shelf of knowledge. Dust crusting my fingers. Perplexed, I frowned. Maybe they need to assign more Anomalies to clean the Library.
Chapter 10
Ari
MY CHEEK ACHED from my unforgiving desk, and the tomes I’d been trying to read lay forgotten. Feathers, molted from stress, surrounded me. I blew at one discontentedly before peeling my face off of the hard surface, rolling my shoulders.
I trudged into the galley and struck a flint to warm a kettle for pekoe, a dark tea favored by Elysian. A haunting melody filtered through the common room. Willowy wisps solidified and dissipated around Maewyn’s feet, keeping pace with her playing. Even though an invitation hadn’t arrived, Maewyn still hoped to play at the Aerie for the Autumn Feyle. There’s only a fortnight left.
Discontent wedged into my heart. Not having a known Talent to practice was making me edgy, and I needed space to think. Or not think at all. Maybe I need to relax. I extinguished the flame under the kettle and grabbed a sack from my room before walking out the door. Maewyn wouldn’t notice my absence until she surfaced from her work-induced haze.
I dropped from the balcony, flying toward the thick outer wall surrounding Summit. Only a few more leagues and I’ll be free of the city. I sighed, releasing some tension and shot past the last ring in Summit. The outer ring of Summit contained sagging, broken lean-tos for non-service Anomalies. It wasn’t a Holding, but Larrikin wasn’t built for Elysian.
Larrikin is where the cast-off Anomalies are sent to slowly starve to death, and Zora might end up there if I don’t get hundreds of more dosh in the next few months. I surveyed the barren smear Larrikin created with a twinge of guilt. How many Anomalies live there?
Jewel-toned Orchards rolled away from Summit’s final wall, gliding toward a familiar, sterile plot of land with a blackened tree. The hollowed trunk twisted in opposite directions, riddled with old carvings and initials.
I landed next to it, touching unknown initials from habit. This was where I retreated when it was too difficult to be around people. A faint reddish sheen crackled from the Barrier, shimmering protectively against a nearby animal. The sketched Dweller popped into my mind. If I walked past the Barrier would I see one? I mused.
The land beyond the Ward Barrier dropped steeply down the mountain. Unforgiving terrain for non-Warders. Niles still hasn’t responded to my letters. The ashes from the Temple had not abated, and anxiety gripped my heart.
Taking a moment to pray to the True One, I let the sun soak into my skin. Afterward, I spread my arms in the prickly grass, closing my eyes. The heavy quiet to settled over me and I fell asleep.
Whispers of Envoy wormed into my psyche, interrupted by a pervading itch. Irritated, I rubbed my nose. The itch persisted, sluggishly returning me to consciousness. I cracked my eyelids, peering into mischievous dark eyes and a feather. Joy cracked through me, and I bolted upright, tossing myself on Niles.
“Whoa, whoa, cornstalk! I know I’m manly and irresistible, but I need a place to breathe away from the ladies.” Niles said, extracting himself from my embrace with a laugh. The oddball names he liked to call me was one of the things I would never admit I had missed.
I grinned, replacing my hug with a fist to the gut. Niles grunted but took it in stride as we sat companionably. Hitting him firmly but gently was a habit I had taken up when he started noticing girls…and they started noticing him. Someone has to keep his ego in check, I thought ruefully.
“Congratulations Tyro. Your letters didn’t mention your Caelum the Second Born Story Weaver. And gorgeous.” Niles chided, shifting in the grass.
I rolled my eyes, giving him a scathing look. You’d only flirt with each other, and I’d be in the middle of a weird disaster waiting to happen. Puzzled, I frowned. How would Niles know about Maewyn? Realization dawned with mounting horror. Oh, no.
“I was shifted to different stations, so it took a while for me to receive your letters. I felt bad because some of them were a few months old, so I flew to Ascension as a surprise. My misfortune at your absence was soothed by the delightful Maewyn.” Niles said, dramatically putting a hand over his heart.
I stared at him, aghast. A haze of love-sickness surrounded him like it always did when he was interested in a woman. Grinding my teeth, I stared at the sky. This cannot be happening. On today of all days! I thought irritably.
“Don’t look so upset,” Niles teased, “I received a very warm welcome and a cup of pekoe.” A mischievous gleam lingered in his dark eyes.
I drug my fingers through my hair. Maewyn won’t stop bugging me about Niles. Then she won’t stop talking about him…them…ugh! I have too many other things to worry about. The teasing light in Niles’s eyes faded, replaced with concern.
“I left the number of my current Ward Station on your desk in case you weren’t here. There were plenty of feathers in your room,” he said, twirling the one he had used to tickle my nose. “Are you okay, squirrel face?”
I stared into his warm eyes, studying him. He looked good—if thinner. His sun-touched skin, fawn colored hair, and muscled physique glowed with health. The opposite of Zora. I frowned, burning for an explanation about my family’s pension. Sunlight glinted off metal, and I glanced at his lapel. Multiple medals sat on his Warder uniform, attesting to his hard work over the past few months.
A sheepish expression crossed his face. “I’ve received a promotion…or two…since being in the field. The Generals like how I lead my Unit at the Ward Stations, and how many supplies—scant as they are—we bring back from beyond the Barrier without compromising our shifts,” he explained.
I perked up at the mention of the food supply. Niles shook his head at my questioning gaze. “I’m not sure what’s going on, but I share your concerns. The decrease in food could be because of the approaching Rime season but…it could be something else. You’ve seen the Official Notices?”
I nodded, and Niles continued. “The list has grown. There’s not enough beyond the Barrier anymore. The things happening beyond it—” Niles stopped, shadows crossing his face.
I placed a comforting hand on his arm. In
Warder families, there is counsel about the ruthlessness of the Dwellers. We sat silently, wrapped in our thoughts. Niles has never known that Zora and I believe in the True One. For his safety and ours. If he knew, he would be forced to report us.
If I knew what my Talent was, I could train to become a Caelum! But as I am now, I’m no better than an Anomaly serving beneath Maewyn. I stared at my hands, a cloud of anger hovering over me. Despite what I saw during my visit home, I don’t trust Willow to risk her reputation to keep Zora from being discovered as a True One sect leader.
My thoughts spiraled downward, nosing me into depression. Determined to shake-off my mood, I hit Niles lightly on the shoulder, pulling him out of his own reverie. Pointing toward the sky, I raised a brow in challenge. A little one-on-one competition might help clear our minds. Niles smiled impishly, holding up my molted feather.
“If you think you can take me on with your molting stage, you’ll want to reanalyze your flying abilities, lizard lips,” Niles quipped.
I smirked. I can outpace you any day. We stared at each other before simultaneously leaping into the sky. It was an old game between us; one lap around the Barrier, passing each Ward Station as a marker. My muscles strained, pushing against the resistant autumn wind.
Niles passed me at Ward Two with a loud whoop. Snarling, I pushed against the burning ache in my shoulders. I grinned evilly. There was a trick I had been wanting to try while flying, and with my slightly smaller frame I should be able to pull it off. Niles has grown too cocky without me around.
It was a close race, but to Niles’s surprise I used him as a springboard outpace him mid-flight. Passing the last Ward Station, I glided back to the deserted area we had launched from. Winded, he landed beside the blackened tree and gave me a dirty look.
“You cheated,” he huffed. I stared at him archly, Cheating implies there were rules.
“You gave yourself an unfair advantage, so your win is quashed,” Niles insisted. He ran a hand through his disheveled hair. Smiling triumphantly, I hid my winded state. A win is a win; it can’t be nullified because you don’t like it.
