by C. Ellsworth
She crossed over to a small table near the foot of the bed, the soles of her bare feet making soft padding sounds on the floor. She blinked. There was a small figurine of a woman upon the polished tabletop, its hair dark and its blue dress flowing. The detail was so fine, the color so vivid, that she wouldn’t be surprised at all to see it blink and start moving about as if alive.
Beside the figurine was a clear globe of solid glass about the size of a child’s head, and inside it was a colorful, translucent depiction of a flowered hillside that moved as she looked around it. How was that possible?
And there were more items of curiosity: a black, rectangular object about the size of her hand with strange symbols that set her middle aquiver; an odd little red wagon with no horse and no bed, its wheels looking like metal polished to a mirror-like finish; and two small round . . . buds of some sort that were joined by a smooth yellow string or cord.
Voices suddenly emanated from outside the room, coming closer. What would the owners do if they caught her snooping? She stepped quickly but quietly back to the bed, hopped in, and then pulled the covers up to her chin. The voices were right outside the door now. Was that Phineus and Mayor Aldis?
“Are you certain?” That one sounded like the mayor, but Addy had never heard the mayor sound impatient before.
“The uh . . . texts are not always easily translated.” That was Phineus, without a doubt. But what texts was he talking about? “But in this particular matter, I am quite confident.”
“Why hasn’t this happened before?” That was the mayor again, sounding more impatient, more aggravated. “Over a thousand years have passed, and there’s no mention of this happening even once?”
Addy’s brow furrowed. They must be talking about the Proving and what had happened, what she had caused!
“According . . . to the texts . . . this can only happen once.”
The mayor breathed a sigh. “Why her? Why now?”
Phineus mumbled as if searching for words. “I . . . do not fully understand it—it’s not spelled out anywhere—but I . . . believe it has to do with her lineage . . . and the traits she inherited from her parents and the family that came before. Much like a puzzle . . . assembled over the course of . . . hundreds of years.” He paused. “In fact it is . . . quite possible that her mother may have shared the same traits, but there is no way to tell now . . . with her . . . gone.”
Addy pressed the soft blanket to her lips. What did Mama have to do with anything? What were these traits they were talking about?
“Yes,” the mayor muttered. “A shame we don’t know what happened to her.”
Didn’t know what happened to her? What was that supposed mean? Mama had gone to the Tower, she’d performed the Affirmation, and the Lord had been appeased for another Cycle. She just never made it back. She . . . fell to a blade. That’s how Papa had explained it. Could he have been wrong? What if everything she knew about Mama was wrong?
The dream. Mama’s voice echoed in her head. There isn’t much time, Adele! You must kill them before they kill you.
Addy’s heart skipped. No, that had been only a dream. She wasn’t going to kill anyone! She shut her eyes tightly, images exploding in her head: Mama helping her in Old Town, the skeg cutting her, the canth tearing at her throat. It was too much! You must kill them before they kill you. You must kill them. You must kill!
There was a loud pop, followed by the sound of broken glass and debris skittering across the floor. Her eyes shot open. The small figurine and the glass globe on the table had shattered into thousands of pieces! Addy’s stomach twisted.
The door creaked open, and the mayor appeared in the doorway, one brow on his round face quirked upward. Addy pulled her blankets tighter to her chin.
Phineus peered over the mayor’s shoulder from behind, his eyes blinking rapidly, his bald pate reflecting light from the hallway outside. The mayor glanced about the room, his brown eyes settling on the shattered remnants of the trinkets. But when he turned back to her, his expression wasn’t one of anger; it was one of concern. “Are you . . . all right, Ms. Swift?” He entered the room.
How was she supposed to answer that? If she told them that she had destroyed those things—his precious things—with a mere thought, they would decide that she was a witch. And everyone knew witches were exiled to the Waste. If only Papa were here! He would know what to do.
“I . . . I’m sorry, Mayor Aldis,” Addy stammered, heart beating furiously. What could she say? “I-I know I shouldn’t have . . . touched them. They were . . . just so beautiful that I couldn’t . . . I—I couldn’t help myself.”
That had to be the dumbest story she had ever told. They would never believe it, that she had accidentally broken his trinkets and the pieces somehow scattered themselves across the entire floor. If, by some miracle, they didn’t believe her a witch, it was the dungeon for her, for certain!
The mayor and Phineus exchanged knowing glances. They didn’t believe her. Of course they didn’t. Oh, Spirelight, they’re going to exile me!
The mayor, however, simply put on a comforting smile. “It’s all right, dear.” His voice was soothing, but not genuine. “They were just . . . trifles. I’m more concerned about you. Are you feeling better this morning?”
Addy pushed herself to a sitting position. Just trifles? Why was he being so nice, so understanding? The mayor eyed her expectantly, while Phineus was looking at her like she was something wondrous, something to be studied. They had to be up to something. She licked her lips. Why was her mouth so dry? “Yes, Mayor. I’m . . . feeling quite well actually. But your things…I didn’t mean to—”
The mayor dismissed her words with a wave. “Don’t give it another thought, my dear. I’ll get someone to come and clean that up. But, you, I would imagine you’d like something to eat.”
Eat? After what had just happened? What she really wanted was to go home! How long had she been here? Did Papa know where she was? Had he tried to visit her? “No, thank you.” Her face warmed. Hopefully they wouldn’t be offended by her refusal. “You’ve been very gracious. Can you tell me where I am, though? Is this your . . . manor?”
The mayor shared another glance with Phineus. Why did they keep doing that? “Yes, it is. I hope you found the accommodations acceptable.”
Addy nodded and put on an appreciative smile that hopefully looked convincing. “Has my papa been to see me? He must have been terribly worried. How long have I been here?”
The mayor started to reply but stopped with his mouth hanging partly open, and then he turned to the old scholar. “Phineus, why don’t you go down to my office and wait for me there. We can continue our previous conversation in more detail when I’ve . . . seen to Ms. Swift’s needs.”
Phineus blinked, his mouth working beneath the white of his beard. “Oh, right! Of course.” Then he gave Addy a small bow; though, it didn’t go much beyond his already-bowed form. If he bent any lower he’d surely lose his balance. “Uh . . . good day, Ms. Swift.” He shuffled out of the room and disappeared down the hallway.
Mayor Aldis turned from the door and regarded Addy with a contemplative stare that lasted far too long. Her stomach squirmed. What was he thinking? She shifted and forced a smile.
Abruptly, the unsettling stare was gone, replaced with a familiar bent-lipped grin. “We brought you directly here after the . . . incident.” Despite the smile, the mayor’s tone sent chills up her spine. “It is more comfortable here. And closer to aid. You’ve been here for two days now, sleeping.”
Addy’s mouth fell open. Two days?
The mayor nodded as if hearing her unspoken question. “Mrs. Blanch was here for a good part of that first night before she finally declared you healthy. She couldn’t find a thing wrong with you, aside from the fact that you couldn’t be awakened. And your father was at your side from the moment we brought you here, never sleeping a wink. Mrs. Blanch finally made him go home to rest just last night, threatening to beat him if he didn’t. T
he poor man was near sick with exhaustion, and she wasn’t about to treat the both of you at the same time.”
Addy turned her eyes away. Two days? How had she managed to sleep for that long? What had happened at the Proving? She had touched the Proving Stone, there was a tingling in her fingers, and then . . . people, bloodied, being tossed around like . . . rag dolls. “Did anyone . . . get hurt?”
The mayor pursed his lips. “Some bumps and bruises mostly. Kyle Everston had a good cut on his head that bled a great deal, but when he asked for stitches Mrs. Blanch cuffed his ear and sent him home with a poultice. No. No serious injuries, Tower’s Luck.”
Addy’s only reply was a slow nod. What else was there to say?
The mayor heaved a sigh, his expression full of sympathy. Were her thoughts so transparent? He wiped a meaty hand down his face. “This may not be the most opportune time to mention this, but . . . about the Proving . . .”
Addy’s heart skipped. The test. Did she pass or fail? She couldn’t possibly have passed after what had happened. The Proving Stone was probably sitting in a hundred pieces! “I failed, didn’t I?”
Mayor Aldis looked at her blankly. “On the contrary, Ms. Swift. You are the only one who passed.”
Addy’s stomach dropped to her toes. She was the only one? It couldn’t be true. It couldn’t! There had always been more than one Proven. Sure, there had been fewer and fewer each year, but . . . only one this time? Her?
“Something extraordinary has happened, my dear,” the mayor continued, his brows drawing down slightly. Extraordinary? Was he talking about the blast or explosion, or whatever that was? “People have taken it as a sign that you’ve been . . . chosen by the Lord, that you will finally bring an end to the Faege. I don’t know what to think about it, nor does Phineus. It isn’t in any of the old texts, so who can say? We don’t want people to get their hopes up, but still . . .” He turned his eyes downward thoughtfully.
Addy’s stomach was now twisting into knots. Chosen by the Lord?
Mayor Aldis cleared his throat and turned back toward the hallway. “Well, I’m sure you’re eager to get home to your family. I’ll have a carriage brought around front to take you home. As custom dictates, you’ll have seven days to ready yourself before your training begins. I understand Guard Captain Aeric is eager to test your potential. And we’re all very curious to see how far you’ll progress.”
Addy breathed a sigh that was just short of a whimper. The training. Anyone who passed the test had to be taught the skills to survive beyond the town’s walls, to survive dangers far worse than just the occasional canth or skeg. Spirelight, how was she going to get through it? The training was supposed to be grueling! Breathe, Addy. Breathe.
She took a calming breath, her eyes rising to meet his. “Thank you again, Mayor Aldis. I’ll do my best not to disappoint.”
Chapter 8
Addy sat on her bed, a late morning sun casting warmth through the window beside her. Seven days had gone by far too quickly. There had been no losing herself in chores while fretting over what training might be like. And how could she be away from Papa and Gevin for six whole months? And, worse, would she even survive the Affirmation and return home to them?
The door to her bedroom creaked open, and Papa peeked in, a soft smile on his weathered face. Her throat tightened.
A thin layer of sawdust on Papa’s dark, long-sleeved shirt said he had just come from the workshop. He seemed older somehow, the lines at his eyes and mouth deeper, like the events of the last couple of weeks had taken a toll. The gray in his hair seemed more prominent. Had she caused him that much worry?
“How are you doing?” His voice was deep and powerful as usual, and yet it was somehow still soothing.
Addy gave him a small smile of her own. “I’m well, Papa.” Her face probably said otherwise, though. “Come in.”
Papa stepped into the room, his hands holding something behind his back. What was he up to? Addy quirked an eyebrow and gave him a sly smile. “What are you hiding?”
“I was planning to save this for your next birthday, but I thought it might be better to give it to you now.”
He revealed a bundle of folded blue cloth, holding it out before her while it unfurled to its length near the floor. Her breath caught. A dress! A pale, blue dress! It had billowy shoulders, white embroidery across the chest, and polished stone buttons down the front. It was absolutely—
Her heart skipped. No, it couldn’t be! She raised a trembling hand to her mouth, tears welling in her eyes. “Is that . . . Mama’s dress?”
Papa placed the garment in her lap and crouched down before her. “It is. It was her favorite.”
A soft cry escaped Addy’s lips. Mama’s dress! The same one Papa had kept reverently in his chest all these years. “Oh, Papa, I can’t! I can’t accept this. I know how important it is to you.” Tears rolled down her cheeks. How could she take it from him? It was one of the last things he had left to remember her by.
Papa smiled, his lower lip quivering slightly. “I want you to have it. I’ve always meant it for you. And I know your m—” His voice hitched, eyes growing misty. “I know your mama would . . . want you to have it as well.”
Addy threw her arms around him and pressed her tear-stained face into his shoulder. His strong arms wound around her, holding her tightly. She whispered into the dusty fabric of his shirt, “I love you, Papa.”
Papa’s voice was still strained with emotion. “I love you too, sweetheart.”
A soft thumping at the door preempted Gevin’s appearance. The boy stood with crutches under his arms, dark hair tousled around his gaunt face. He looked worried, on the verge of tears. “Is everything all right?” His weak little voice trembled.
Oh, Gevin! Here he was, her brother, dying before their very eyes, and he was concerned about her. She sat back on her bed and wiped her eyes, laughing through her tears. “Yes, Gevin. Everything is fine.” She opened her arms. “Get in here and give me a hug!”
After a long group hug, mixed with giggles and kisses from Addy, she shooed the two out of the room so she could change. That dress! That beautiful dress! Her heart raced. Would it look as good on her as it had on Mama? She hastily pulled off her plain, woolen dress and tossed it on the bed. Then she slid herself into the other, its finer weave feeling like chick’s down over her skin.
She stepped over to the standing mirror in the corner, and a smile creeped onto her lips. Oh, it was beautiful! It flowed like water, waves of blue down to her ankles. And standing there like that, she could see a little of Mama in her face, in her creamy-brown eyes. Her throat tightened. If only she was here right then.
When Addy left her room, she found Papa and Gevin in the living area, Papa sitting at the table inspecting a broken hammer, and Gevin lounging in his favorite chair whittling again.
Papa looked up and his eyes grew misty, his lower lip trembling. “Lord of Light, have mercy. You look . . . you look so beautiful! And so much like your mama.”
Addy’s eyes teared again as well, and she walked quickly over to him and bent down to wrap her arms around his neck. “Thank you, Papa.” She whispered into his ear. “Thank you.”
Gevin giggled. “You look pretty, Squeaky.”
There came a sudden knock at the door, and her stomach clenched. They were here.
She shot Papa a pleading look, but he simply gave a small smile. He could do nothing for her, of course. No one could. The butterflies took up the dance in her stomach as she turned and walked slowly toward the door, her legs suddenly leaden beneath her.
Members of the Guard would be on the other side of the door, waiting to escort her to the barracks, as was customary. In years past, a great procession would have wound its way through town as each of the Proven were picked up and added to the group. This year, though, there was only one Proven, Addy Swift. How big of a procession could there be for just one person?
Addy opened the door and shielded her eyes from the early sun. May
or Aldis stood outside the gate twiddling his meaty thumbs, the toe of his polished black shoe tapping on the cobblestone. The mayor’s pudgy face still bore that pasted-on grin, but when Papa appeared in the doorway behind her, he seemed to double his efforts, and the smile became more genuine. “Good day, Landen!” His tone rose and fell dramatically as if he was giving one of his speeches. “This is a very special occasion for your beautiful daughter. Wouldn’t you agree?”
Papa placed an arm around her. “Of course. Addy is a special gir—woman. I hope you’ll personally see to her well-being.” That last sounded a little like a threat, but the mayor gave only the slightest twitch of an eye to say that he had taken it as anything but a simple request.
“You have my word.” The mayor made a small bow.
Another man, standing a head taller than the short mayor, eyed Addy appreciatively, his lips curled at one end in a quirky smile. Ryan was his name—no surname that she knew of—and he had a reputation for being a bit of a trouble-maker. With his dark hair falling in waves to his shoulders, and his alluring brown eyes set in a lean face, he was quite handsome, but Papa had told her to stay away from men like him. Rogues, he called them.
“Well . . .” The mayor cleared his throat and gave Addy and Papa a grin that stretched his round cheeks. It was time. “I think we should be going, Addy, my dear. Guard Captain Aeric is waiting for our arrival.”
Addy turned to Papa, heart thumping. This was really it. She was leaving!
Papa took her gently by the shoulders, the muscles in his jaw clenching. “Do you have everything you need, sweetheart?” Papa’s voice was tight, the lines at the corners of his eyes growing deep with sorrow.
“Yes, Papa.” Her voice faltered. “Just the clothes on my back, they said. Nothing more.”
Papa smiled softly, lips trembling a little.
