“He’s ten. You don’t know him.” Franken answered the unspoken question. “Have you had your first lessons yet? With Lila?”
Rowen shook his head.
“Benjamin is also learning to read and write. You’ll meet him today, assuming you’re starting with academics?”
Rowen nodded again. Respect for the way Franken handled the mute student kindled in Kristoff’s chest, along with something darker. Why couldn’t he be that good with him?
“So how do you like your roommates? Are all three of them well-behaved?” Franken continued.
Rowen paused for a moment, then held up two fingers, nodding. Then another finger, with a shake of his head.
“They can’t all be good. I know Kristoff used to have issues with his old roommates, didn’t you?”
“Uh….” How dare he bring that up now! Rowen didn’t need to know about Kristoff’s old problems, did he? “It wasn’t that bad….”
“Now that you mention it, who are your roommates?” Lissa cut in. “There aren’t many students near your age. Volkes is your age, Rowen. Is he one of them?”
Rowen nodded again and blushed ever so slightly. Interesting.
“Is he the bad one?” Franken smiled, and Rowen blushed hotter as he responded in the affirmative. Kristoff would have to explore that further when he had the chance.
“Let’s see, who else is there…. Elise, Sharon, and David. David is probably too old, though. Elise and Sharon?” Rowen nodded through a mouthful of bread, the butter he had dipped it in dripping onto his tray. He hurriedly swiped at it with a napkin.
“The only ones older are Kristoff’s old roommates and Seleste. That’s not many.” Lissa frowned, her brow furrowing. It seemed like every day they realized just how few students they had, compared to the magnitude of the task they needed to do.
All the more reason to get started. “C’mon, Rowen,” Kristoff urged. “The sooner you start your training, the better.”
Chapter 10
ROWEN STARED at the letters on the page. Lila, the teacher, said they were letters, but to him they were meaningless, mere symbols. He recognized the X he had used before to mark out places where there was no water, places he couldn’t dig. But everything else made no sense.
The small shack was filled with tables and desks, where other students sat. Every other student was half his age, at best, and Rowen frowned when he heard snickers sometimes when he pointed to the wrong letter. There were too many to remember.
At least Lila was kind. “Don’t worry, Rowen,” she said as she wrote out enormous blocky letters. It was supposed to be his name, but he couldn’t see it yet. “One day soon, you’ll be reading all books with no problem.” Books and scrolls surrounded them all, and behind him one girl was reading a book that must have weighed more than the shovels Rowen used to heft.
He nodded. He could do this. He had never expected it to be easy.
By the time lessons were over and the class broke for lunch, Rowen’s head was swimming. By the time the class was over in the afternoon, he was mentally exhausted. Not only was he expected to learn his letters, but he was to learn history and geography, how to read maps and weather maps, how to calculate with numbers…. It was overwhelming. But he had to do it. Not only to stay on the island, but because it was exciting. Seeing the books, the maps, and knowing he could learn to read and write… that would change his life.
Maybe, even if he did get sent back to his village, they would accept him if he could write. Of course, no one aside from Alain and Erik could read. Rowen frowned. There was no escape there. He would have to stay here.
As he packed up his things—Lila had given him extra work to do at home, which was simple copying of letters so he would learn their shapes—Kristoff appeared quietly over his shoulder. “Dinner, then I’m taking you up to the Seer’s Hill. I want to see if you’re capable of sensing anything.”
Rowen nodded, his heart pounding. Writing was one thing. But using his magic correctly was what would let him stay here.
“ROWEN!” AS soon as he entered the dining hall, Volkes intercepted him, so suddenly that Kristoff walked a few paces beyond them before turning back. “Why don’t you sit with me?” It was less of a question and more a demand.
Kristoff nodded at Rowen’s questioning look. “Half an hour, then meet up at the door.” Kristoff’s mouth turned down, but Volkes steered Rowen toward the food before he had the chance to think about it.
“You didn’t tell me Kristoff was your mentor!” Volkes said as soon as they had sat down. Rowen just stared, then shrugged.
“He’s the youngest graduate ever, and he’s the strongest Storm Lord there is. You know what they call him?” Rowen shook his head, his mouth full of food. “Kristoff Hurricane. He can summon one by himself. He can single-handedly destroy a heat spell.”
Rowen kept eating.
“Don’t you care? Your mentor is the most powerful guy there is!” Volkes said. “Being able to outperform Kristoff is my goal!”
Rowen just shrugged again.
“I guess you don’t understand what that means yet.” Volkes took a wolfish bite of his meal as Rowen glared at him. “Although, if he’s so strong, maybe he’s better at sensing, so he was able to sense someone who wasn’t so strong.” He grinned, and Rowen kept up his glare.
“I’ve heard he’s interested in men too,” Volkes said. When Rowen cocked his head in confusion, Volkes elaborated. “He fucks men.”
Rowen nearly choked.
“That got a reaction.” The blond laughed.
It wasn’t just Volkes’s coarse language. Rowen had never heard of anyone, other than him, who favored other men. He had told his father, and his father had not thought much of it, but he told Rowen to be careful. Lucas was not like him, he had said, and favored women as most men did. Rowen felt his face heat up at sudden mental images of what else Kristoff could teach him as his mentor and how the older man had looked on the island, naked while he washed his clothes. He drank his water quickly, hoping that and his recovery from his near choking would mask the blush.
“You don’t seem so put off by that.” Volkes grinned, wiping crumbs off his chin and leaning toward Rowen. “Maybe he’ll teach you more than just storm sensing.” Rowen blushed hotter, giving up on hiding it behind his food. He shook his head with a quick jerk. That certainly wasn’t what he wanted people to think! Why would Volkes discuss such things out in the open? They were private!
“Too bad, then. I could have taught you too.” Volkes smiled, taking another enormous bite of his food, which was now almost gone. “It’s about damn time I got another guy in the house.” A chill went through Rowen at his words—he wasn’t something Volkes owned—but a twinge of arousal went through him too. Such frankness… was this normal here? He was careful not to nod. He didn’t want that, not yet. He had too much work to do.
“I didn’t see a no there.” Volkes grinned, and Rowen froze for a moment before shaking his head. “So you don’t like men?” Volkes pressed. Rowen tilted his head. How would he answer that?
“Do you like men or not?” Volkes asked. “Just yes or no. Do you prefer men?”
Rowen didn’t move, every second more awkward than the last. His father had said to be careful, but if Kristoff was open about his relationships with men, which he was if Volkes was anything to go by, would it be so bad to be honest? He had never liked women that way, and Lucas…. Pain twinged somewhere deep at the memory of Lucas. He nodded, dropping his gaze to the table.
“I thought so.” Rowen snapped his head up. “You seemed like the type. Plus you seemed to like me when you first saw me.” Volkes leaned back in his chair. “Any time you’re ready for something, let me know.”
“Rowen,” Kristoff interrupted, appearing at his side by the table, and Rowen practically leapt out of his chair. He was late!
“It’s all right. Let’s go. Time to see what you can sense.” Rowen nodded and grabbed his tray, face burning. The last thing he want
ed was to be late for an important lesson—or worse, for Kristoff to overhear what Volkes had been talking about.
By the time Rowen had put away his tray, Kristoff stood by the door and motioned Rowen to go outside. He caught up with Kristoff easily and followed him as he headed down the walkway. In a few minutes, the chatter of the more populated areas faded, and trees began to reach over the path.
The cobblestones had given way to a gently sloping dirt path when Kristoff finally spoke. “Was your first day good?” he asked. “I mean, did everything go all right?” His voice wavered, just enough that Rowen realized Kristoff was unsure about something. Rowen wished he knew what.
He nodded, then put his hands up and spread his fingers wide. “A lot to learn, huh?” Kristoff said, smiling.
Yes.
“Is Volkes… helping you?” he asked, not quite making eye contact, and Rowen’s face heated. He shook his head. Elise was, not Volkes. Volkes didn’t seem interested. Not in that, at least.
“Right. Well, if you need extra help, let me know.” He sighed, then fell silent for a minute. “About anything.”
Rowen nodded again, raising an eyebrow at Kristoff, but he didn’t offer anything else. Rowen hoped he didn’t mean about… what Volkes had said. His heart beat fast as he wondered if Kristoff sensed the same tense, awkward air he did. He wasn’t even sure Kristoff had heard, but if he was offering….
Rowen put his sudden desire out of his mind. That didn’t matter now. He had magic to learn before any of that could even be possible.
He relished the silence as they walked up a steep incline, and Rowen concentrated on breathing. He was still weak from the ordeal, and his few remaining bandages clung to his body with sweat by the time they reached the top. Stars had begun to appear in the dusk sky.
The island lay spread on either side, and the mess hall was now a speck in the distance. Rowen’s mouth fell open. His desert village had been completely flat. He had never been able to see things from a vantage point like this one before. He wondered if it would be even better if he could learn to fly like Kristoff. His worries about Volkes and about what Kristoff might think faded in the face of the view.
“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Kristoff said, smiling at him. “I suppose you get used to it, but the first time seeing the island from here is pretty impressive.”
Rowen nodded, turning to look at the houses that dotted the green landscape.
“This is where most apprentices learn to sense,” Kristoff said. He sounded more formal now as he gave the lesson, and Rowen turned to attend. “There are different types of atmospheric changes that a Storm Lord can learn to sense, and some have affinities for certain types over others.”
Rowen blinked, struggling to decode his words.
“Now, Rowen, I want you to close your eyes.” He did so. “Feel the breeze on your skin.” There wasn’t much of one, and the bandages blocked most of it. “Can you stretch that awareness of the air around you?”
Rowen tried. The air was cold against his skin, raising goose bumps when he tried to focus on it. He tried to stretch his sense of it the way he thought Kristoff meant, but all he could do was imagine what the world underneath the hill looked like.
There must be more than just the island, though. On the edge of it, there must be the ocean. His father had talked about the ocean, an enormous body of water that was always in motion. They had flown over it, he knew, although he hadn’t seen much under the swirling air Kristoff had conjured.
Rowen wondered what his father would think of Rowen flying away from their village on the wings of a storm, becoming someone who would have saved him. Should have saved him.
He opened his eyes and shook his head.
“Is there something wrong?” Kristoff said.
He shook his head again, closing his eyes and focusing once more. If he was going to save anyone, he had to do better.
He felt the air around him again and thought of the ocean. Again, however, his thoughts were dragged to the desert. His old home, his family. He screwed his eyes shut tighter, sweat trickling down his forehead despite the cool air. Heat suddenly flashed through him, and he gasped, opening his eyes.
Kristoff placed a hand on his forehead, his mouth a thin line. Rowen cocked his head.
“Did you sense anything?” Kristoff asked. He shook his head, face flushing. “That’s all right. It was a good try. I did sense you using magic, though it’s too soon to tell what type. I would guess… lightning?”
Rowen brightened, his eyebrows raising. He had used magic? He hadn’t even been aware of it.
“Well, this is good news,” Kristoff said. “It’s certainly reassuring that you can use magic.”
Rowen’s face fell. Had Kristoff doubted it too?
“Don’t worry,” Kristoff said. “I know what Lorana said, and I know what Marin said.” Rowen had to think to remember which one Marin was. “Resources are scarce on the island, Rowen, and we can’t afford to bring in people who don’t have power.” He hurried on when Rowen frowned. “But I’m sure you have magic, no matter what they say. You don’t need to worry. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
Rowen tilted his head. That seemed like more than a mentor would say.
Kristoff coughed, looking away, over the expanse of the island. “It’s far too soon for you to start summoning storms, though. It felt very unformed. But like I said, don’t worry,” he added, probably noting Rowen’s expression. “It takes years and years of training to summon any sort of storm.”
Rowen wished he could ask him about his power. Kristoff Hurricane, Volkes had called him.
“Good job. I guess… that’s enough for tonight. Let’s head back down.” Kristoff turned and Rowen followed, aching to ask questions he never could. Not until he could write.
“I’ll see you tomorrow morning. Early again, so get a good’s night sleep,” Kristoff said as they made it back down to the base of the hill. “Lessons will be just like this for a while, until you begin to make progress.”
Rowen nodded. Kristoff had said not to worry, but Rowen intended to make progress as quickly as he could.
Chapter 11
KRISTOFF HAD never sensed anything like that, and he had watched others use their power hundreds of times.
The first time he had sensed a storm, he had been eight, and it had suddenly appeared in his mental image of the ocean—a swirling mass of air, an enormous hurricane in the middle of the ocean. There was one now, spinning harmlessly hundreds of miles away. Rowen hadn’t noticed it.
But he had clearly sensed something. Kristoff had felt the tinge of magic, the same tinge that had clued him to Rowen’s location in the desert village. But the sensation, as he had focused on it, was foreign to him. He had never sensed its type before. How had he not noticed its strangeness the first time?
It unnerved him, and he headed to the bar where Lissa usually hung out. He wished he knew more about his mysterious student, but only time would reveal it. It was best not to think about it for now. Rowen could use magic, and Marin and Lorana had no reason to reject him. That was what mattered.
“Kristoff!” As usual, Lissa sat at a table by herself, sipping a dark-hued drink with a frothy top. “How is your student? Rowen, right?”
“He’s doing well enough.” Kristoff slumped into a chair across from Lissa, the dark-haired woman raising an eyebrow. “I think.” The strange magic, on top of everything else he wanted to know, wasn’t making his new role as mentor any easier.
“Sure. And how are you doing?” She pushed her drink across the table toward him with a grin. “Looks like you need this more than me.”
Kristoff gave her a weak smile. “I just never knew mentoring would be so tiring.”
“Ugh.” Lissa took her drink back, taking a hearty gulp. “I hope I never end up with one. Between your mute and Franken’s annoying little brat, I’ve heard too many horror stories.” Kristoff wouldn’t exactly call Rowen a horror story, but he didn’t feel up to being
contradictory. “And Katia is pulling her hair out over Volkes.”
“Volkes? The rude northerner, Rowen’s roommate?”
“That’s the one. Insufferable, apparently, and he’s gotten worse now that he’s getting close to finishing his training. A competitive streak a mile long, and the worst of the northerner traits. Chauvinistic through and through, no respect for Katia. At least he prefers men, so no woman will ever have to deal with him.”
Kristoff laughed. “Sure. Shove him off on us.”
Lissa raised her glass. “I’m sure no man will take him either. He’s very good at what he does too. Doubly annoying. We’ll have to deal with him as a peer soon enough. Katia hoped he would get sick of her tutelage and get passed on to someone else, but….” She shrugged.
“We can’t afford to let anyone slack if they’re qualified,” Kristoff said. “Not with the way things have been going.”
“Believe me, I know.” Lissa’s smile faded. “We have twenty-three students, total. I may have to try and find a student, no matter what I want.” She sipped her drink again, her gaze distant. “And you will have to work hard on this Rowen. I know what Lorana is thinking. She doesn’t trust him. Something about finding him tied up and not sensing his power? What did he do to be punished by his people?”
Kristoff sighed. Maybe he should order a drink. “He will be a Storm Lord,” he said, avoiding the question. “I’m sure of it.”
“I hope you’re right. You’ll need to push him fast.”
“Believe me,” Kristoff parroted her. “I know.”
DESPITE THE urges to hurry, Kristoff wanted to give Rowen time. He didn’t push him for the first few weeks, letting Rowen heal and absorb the minutiae of life on the island and understand how life outside his small village worked. But curiosity raged in Kristoff all the while. Why had Rowen been left to die? What had happened to him? He chafed at Rowen’s forced silence. He wished they could fix it.
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