Riyen grabbed his clothes from the floor. “Because of your father.”
“What do you know about my father?” Clisantha demanded, crossing her arms.
“All I can tell you is that your father caused a stir in the Arc. He must have told you something that they didn’t want you to remember,” Riyen said as he fastened his trousers.
“What did he do?”
Riyen shook his head. “I can’t say.”
“Riyen, I have a right to know—”
“Clisantha,” Riyen interrupted. “I can’t tell yet whether this mind-web has any thought or word triggers. You have no idea what kind of things the Arc does. Installing a mind-web can be a useful tool to kill someone suspected of treason or for going back on their word or investigating things they shouldn’t. If I started talking about your father, I don’t know what will happen.”
Terror rose in Clisantha’s throat. Investigating things they shouldn’t? Would that include her father’s death? “I want it out.”
Riyen walked to her and took her hands, pressing them to his chest. “You don’t have to worry. Just make sure that whatever you’re doing in the Arc, you’re not drawing attention to yourself. I will try and see exactly what kind of mind-web is in place and how we can remove it but in the meantime, focus on your business.”
“Will it affect me helping with…” she couldn’t say the words ‘Telmar’s murder’.
“No,” Riyen said. “You won’t be there when it happens.”
Sixteen
Nemma hovered against the wall of the combat training tube, crouched on her platform as she watched the other scholars streak past her trying to avoid strikers, small round balls of energy shooting after them. Nemma pulled more energy into her platform and heaved it higher just as a striker darted towards her. It hit the wall underneath her platform and bounced back out into the space. Nemma breathed out. That had been closer than usual. She had felt the whirring energy of the striker vibrating through her platform as it sped past. The strikers were dogged in their pursuit but could not change direction quickly so to avoid them scholars had to let them get close. She willed her platform higher into the tube as two more came towards her, spinning past her ears as she maneuvered to avoid them.
Watching them, it seemed the strikers were randomly flying, but previous experience led Nemma to believe they were calculating how to catch a scholar based on their flying patterns. So Nemma tried to be unpredictable. She flicked her head around and turned her platform on the spot to see if any were coming towards her. Innogen had coiled her hair into two braids that twisted into a mound at the back of her head, making it annoyingly heavy. She curved her platform around to a different position, watching Syra pick up speed.
Syra headed straight for the wall as the striker chasing her hurtled closer. She approached the wall and lowered her platform suddenly. While the striker hit the wall above her and rebounded away, she also hit the wall hard from the momentum. As she collapsed back onto her platform, it faded and she fell a few yards to the ground, landing in a heap.
Nemma dodged a number of strikers and heard Terris call out to her as he dodged one on the other side of the room. She lowered her platform and flattened her body as one flew over her head. She grinned and waved at him. Innogen had been right, it was better it was Terris that reported to Mayea rather than anyone else. He had been honest about it being one of his roles and spoke to her often about what he was going to say—all good things. He was friendly and tried to help her when he could.
The training area suddenly darkened and some of the scholars shouted out in surprise. Nemma peered up and realized that it either was not the real sky or the tube had been covered over. She extended the reach of her Gift as far as she could to try and feel the vibrations of the strikers, but it was disorientating to have her sight diminished. She could feel a lot of the other scholars descending to ground level. They had obviously been hit.
Another scholar, Ioh, flew right past her and Nemma maneuvered her platform to under Ioh’s, keeping in line with her flight path until she reached near to the other side of the hall. She positioned herself against the wall and watched Ioh rise high to move out of the path of one ball and then fall hard to avoid another. The speed at which she lowered her platform caused her to tumble off, rendering her out of play.
As her eyes became accustomed to the dark, she saw one of the balls skim Terris’ back as he shot through the space and he whooped with a fist in the air, distracted as another shot towards him from directly ahead. Nemma winced as it hit him in the face. His platform disappeared and he dropped to floor, motionless. The other scholars who had been caught out ran to aid him, while Thaide Adran stood nearby watching everyone in the air, his arms crossed.
The group on the ground grew until only three were left in the air, Dhelon, Nemma and a stocky Yatrnese girl called Belis. The strikers started to group together to attack. Belis outran a cluster of three, while Nemma dodged four by darting sideways at the last moment. She passed Dhelon and saw him lying stomach down on his platform. Curving back round to him she called, “Are you alright?”
“No,” Dhelon shouted back. “I don’t think I can hold the platform any longer.”
“Why?”
Dhelon groaned. “We’ve been doing this for hours. I’m so tired.”
Nemma glanced around. “Try not to think about it.”
“How?” Dhelon moaned. “It’s a strain to even move the—” He stopped.
Nemma followed the look of horror on his face and saw a crowd of strikers heading towards them.
“I can’t move,” shrieked Dhelon. “I have to give up.”
Nemma moved her platform next to his own and created a shield around them both. Thaide Adran had been clear; giving up meant starting training from the beginning with the next group. Dhelon would be devastated, as would Syra and Terris.
“It won’t hurt as much if we both get hit,” she assured him, even though she had no idea.
“You know shields don’t work against them, Isa,” Dhelon warned.
Nemma ignored him. Feeding energy into her shield she watched the strikers as they increased in speed, interweaving and revolving around each other. She saw Belis on the far side of the space skimming the curve of the lower wall as a clutch of six hit the wall behind her, ricocheting away one by one. She slowed to a halt, eyes wide as she watched the large group heading towards Nemma and Dhelon.
“This is going to hurt,” Dhelon winced.
Nemma readied herself. She had been hit by a striker the last time they had undertaken this training. It had caused a burst of agonizing pain on the side of her torso, where it hit, sending waves of pain that semi paralyzed her.
Feeling the rotating nature of the strikers, she began to rotate the earth energy within her shield. It was resistant at first, but Nemma pushed it hard through the structure of her shield until it rotated as quickly as the strikers.
She reached over and clutched Dhelon’s arm, and they both crouched against the attack. The strikers banged against the shield and floated away on the rebound, some of them flickering out of existence. The twisting quality within each ball either slowed or disappeared.
Dhelon flicked his head up. “It worked,” he exclaimed, eyes wide. “How did you do that?”
“I don’t know, I just tried something,” Nemma breathed.
After a few moments, the remaining energy balls grouped back together and headed for Belis. She swooped across the dome, flying in a circular pattern as they chased her. Bright sunlight flooded the tube, blinding Nemma. She felt for the strikers and for Belis. They had caught her.
***
Nemma woke to a tap at the door.
She rolled over hoping the person would go away. Innogen would not bother knocking and she did not feel like speaking to anyone else. When the tap came again she sighed and rolled off the bed and went to the door.
“Terris,” she said in surprise. “What are you doing here?”
�
�I just wanted to let you know that Belis is fine,” he said.
“Thank you.” She hesitated. When she and Dhelon had landed and been announced winners, everyone had been silent. Some had marched away.
“They were just in shock,” Terris explained, sensing her question. “No one else’s shield worked against the strikers.”
“That doesn’t mean they should blame me because mine did.”
Terris half-smiled. “I’m surprised you care what they think.”
“It’s one thing to be indifferent to someone and another to dislike them.”
“Are you planning on applying for the Thaide?” Terris asked.
“What?”
“When it comes to choosing an area to work in, do you want to be a Thaide?” he asked.
“No.”
“Why not? There are female Thaide, you know.”
“I just don’t. I’m not even interested in becoming a top-rank magien, let alone a Thaide.”
There was a silence. Terris shifted from one foot to another. “Can we go for a walk?” he asked.
Nemma glanced at the sky through her window. It was well past sun-fall. “It’s late…” she began.
“I know,” he said. “I just want to talk to you about training.”
After a moment’s thought, Nemma nodded and picked up her gray robe. They walked down the corridor in silence. Beyond the archways, she could see the illuminated buildings of the Arc glowing underneath the velvet sky. Terris took her across the courtyard and through a few more corridors along the ground floor. Her slippers pit-patting against the marble floor seemed unbearably loud while Terris’ boots made no sound at all. Sometimes during the day she would pass groups of other scholars in the Academy but now there was no one around. She accessed her Gift and kept alert.
“Where are we going?” she asked Terris in hushed tones.
Terris didn’t answer but smiled at her, raising an eyebrow.
They arrived at large, arched double doors that looked as though they had been painted onto the wall, but emitted a slightly different energy. Terris placed his hand on the wall next to the doors and the vibrations in the doors started to shift before they clicked open.
Beyond lay a large room, with a high curved ceiling. Books layered the walls and in the middle was a mid-sized wooden desk with a few chairs. A stairway against one of the walls led up to an inside balcony.
“This is my private study area,” Terris said, closing the door behind them.
Nemma walked to the middle of the room. “This is all for you?”
Terris pulled out one of the chairs by the desk and collapsed into it. Nemma took a closer look at the books on the wall and realized they were not really attached the wall, they just hovered, spines out in rows. There were about three or four rows of books layered in front of the wall.
“I only have access to this space at specific times of the day. Other students have access at different times.”
“Other students?” Nemma asked, stroking the spine of the nearest book.
Terris nodded. “The Houses in the Arc pay the Academy for their children to receive dedicated training for the sect the children want to work in, or rather, the sect the House want their children to work in. It gives them a better understanding of the job they will do and provides specialist skills training for the assessments.” An edge entered his tone. “It also forces their children to choose the sect they have the most training for.”
Nemma joined him at the table. Slumped on the chair, he looked exhausted. His eyes were tinged red, his face held lines of stress and his hair was not as shiny as it usually looked. “So what did you want to talk to me about?”
“I want to be a Thaide,” he blurted out. “I’m under a lot of pressure to impress Thaide Adran and it’s hard to do that when you’re outshining me in almost every combat lesson.”
Nemma shrugged. “I’m not.”
Terris smiled wryly. “Yes, you are. That strange Gift of yours is pretty strong and you’re a tactical thinker. You created and held your shield first. You can lift your platform higher than anyone else in the class. You can detect Gift energy from the furthest away. You have won six out of the seven flight training contests and you figured out how to protect yourself against the strikers. You even used another scholar as a shield to make your way across the hall.”
Nemma shifted in her chair, an uncomfortable feeling stirring in her stomach. “Why are you watching everything I’m doing?”
“Everyone is, Isa,” Terris exclaimed. “Especially after yesterday’s flight training. Dhelon can’t stop talking about how great you are, and the other scholars are annoyed with themselves for not thinking up what you did with the shield.”
“Including you?”
Terris’ smile faded and he leaned back in his chair. “Do you know much about the Houses of the Arc?
“Not much, no.”
“Well, status is mainly measured by how many children you have that are strongly Gifted who can carry on the family line,” Terris began. “My father has the second largest amount of strongly Gifted children,” he held up five fingers, “so our family are the second most important. But, he has managed to build influence in almost every sect.”
“How?”
“Two of my brothers and my sister are top-rank magiens in the Care, Element and Creation sects.
“The sects your father has influence in?” Nemma guessed.
“Exactly. One of my brothers works in the Charter sect and is on his way to becoming a Govenyth. So now, Father needs someone to be a Thaide. And I’m his last hope.”
“But why?” Nemma asked, bewildered. “Why is it so important?”
Terris sighed. “It’s just the politics of the Arc, Isa. It’s hard to explain. The Houses are a group of long-running merchant families that having a reputation for producing strongly Gifted children who become powerful magiens in their own right. They plan who their children marry carefully to ensure high strength. This combination has always been what gives them status and influence in the Arc. But having at least one child trained to the highest level in each sect has not yet been accomplished by any House. It will give my father more status than the Monansons, and that is no small feat. They have eight children and have been the strongest family for decades. If I become a Thaide it also means Father can use me to find out more about what goes on across the Realms and try to influence what happens.”
Nemma leaned forward. “And you would do that?”
Terris made a half-hearted effort to shrug and smiled at her. “You always speak as though we have so many choices.”
“Don’t you?” Nemma asked.
Terris thought for a moment. “I suppose I could transfer out of the Arc to another country, but I would still need to train as a top-rank or a Thaide to do that.”
“Oh.” So that is what Puryth Mayea meant about being allowed to leave the city. “Is it only top-rank magiens that can transfer to other countries?”
“Mostly,” Terris said. “All of the top-rank are needed across the Realms but the Thaide are required more than the others. Anyway, since I have started this training I have had to undertake extra study and physicality training. Complete separate tasks and assignments…” He sighed.
“So if you’re doing all of that, why are you worrying? Nothing I can do will affect your extra training.”
“The extra training doesn’t guarantee anything. I still need to impress in the actual standard training sessions,” Terris said. “So I wanted to ask if you would train with me. Teach me what you know and I’ll teach you what I learn in here.”
Nemma leaned back in her own chair. It seemed Puryth Mayea had been truthful, she could leave the Arc but only if she became a top-rank magien or a Thaide, which took considerable training, most likley years. And there was no way she was going to become a Thaide. She would have to find a way to escape.
She said, “I don’t know much. What I do is mainly from how I feel at the time or just trying somet
hing out.”
Terris nodded. “Yes. You work from instinct and experimentation, I know.” He stood up and started pacing. “But it would still be great to talk through your thought process. For example, how did you figure out to rotate your shield?”
”I didn’t rotate my shield,” Nemma corrected. “I rotated just the earth energy in the shield. I was trying to match the energy of the striker.”
Terris paused and turned to her. “You can control the separate energies once they’ve been merged?” He grinned and suddenly looked as young as he had in their first session together. “That’s even more exciting. So will you help? You’ll learn a lot too. And it will be fun, I promise.”
***
For the next three months Nemma spent most of her evenings with Terris learning what he had been taught in his private study lessons. Much of it was more interesting than what they learned in the standard lessons and Nemma found that she was keen to learn more. Terris admitted he understood better when he could recite to someone else so they both learned quickly, sometimes conducting further research than Terris’ training required.
“I still don’t understand code,” Nemma sighed, flopping down onto her platform.
They were in the private study room sitting on their platforms hovering near the top of the room. Terris held a small cluster of books open mid-air around his head with his Gift, as he jumped from one to the other and flipped their pages. “Wait a moment,” he said, excited. His hair had grown long enough for him to braid it properly into various patterned styles. He had chosen one that created wriggly lines along his scalp.
Nemma rolled towards him, extending her platform to create more space for her to roll on as she did. The class had learned with Fabron how to manipulate their platform while they were on it and there was always the thrill at the risk of falling.
“Alright, I have it,” Terris said, snapping shut all of the books before him.
Nemma sat up.
“Go and get a book from the wall,” he said, his eyes sparkling. “Keep your mind blank, don’t think about anything.”
Deviants of Giftborn (The Etherya Series Book 1) Page 23
