The soft glow of candlelight danced around the top of the stairs, and Phoenix ascended to the next floor.
Immediately to her right was the entrance to a large room. Phoenix was unsure that this was the study, as it was easily as large as the castle library, but the other rooms on the floor were barred shut.
She peered into the open room.
The amount of books rivaled that of the library. Large candles lined the walls. Pools of old drippings had gathered beneath them, causing wax stalagmites to grow from the stone floors. New candles had been pressed atop the old ones instead of removing them. Phoenix guessed that the scullers did not venture this far into the tower. It made her wonder if she was even supposed to be here.
The tall candles glowed softly in the darkened room. Phoenix took a hesitant step forward, and, immediately, more candles lit themselves ahead of her to light her way. Taking that to be a good sign, she clutched the treefruit nervously and began to search for Malcourt among the stacks of books.
A soft hoot alerted her to Pip’s presence. Phoenix turned and walked in that direction.
She found them in the center of the room, surrounded by tables and large chairs. Malcourt was sitting cross-legged on a large striped cat skin before the hearth. He looked relaxed, she thought, noticing how many of the lines on his face had receded and appeared less sharp. Pip was on a perch by a chair, preening her tail with an intent vanity that amused Phoenix.
Master Malcourt smiled and gestured for her to come closer. Phoenix stepped forward hesitantly, holding out the treefruit. He accepted it, inclined his head in thanks, then balanced it on his bent knee.
Phoenix’s attention settled on the uneaten fruit.
“It was a test.” Malcourt had the grace to look apologetic. “I wanted to see how well you could Hear me.”
Phoenix paused. “A test?” She dragged her gaze around the study. The fire had consumed most of the logs in the hearth; the layers of ashes under the grate rested in haphazard piles. And Master Malcourt... it was obvious he had been here for some time. He was too settled for someone who had to hurry ahead of her.
The weight of the revelation bloomed in her chest. “You weren’t in th’ kitchens, were you?”
Malcourt shook his head. “No, Phoenix. I was here during our conversation. I wanted to see if you were able to Hear me. You didn’t disappoint.” He picked up the treefruit by its stem and twirled it idly. “Your Calling is very strong for someone who has never used it before... though you will have to learn not to answer out loud. I assume your friends were taken aback?”
Phoenix blinked. A few days ago she’d worked the harvest, struggling to carve herself a home in a place that only wanted to use her. Now she slept in a castle and heard secret voices in her head - and it was being treated as though it were a commonplace occurrence.
“I know it’s a lot to take in,” he said softly, seeing she was overwhelmed. He motioned for her to sit, an offer she accepted gratefully. “It’s always a jolt when it first happens - even if you’re expecting it.” His voice was compassionate as he spoke. “Everyone feels this way at first.”
“’Expecting it’?” Phoenix asked.
Malcourt steepled his fingers, resting his chin upon them. “Do you know who you really are, Phoenix?”
The question caught her off-guard. It brought back flashes of her younger self: sneaking out after dark to search the Cobber’s collapsed house; climbing through the charred rubble for the smallest memento of her former life; forcing herself to endure the teasing of Millie and Jobe for the scattered shared laugh that made her feel as though she belonged.
The flames guttered in the hearth. Malcourt didn’t flinch, his gaze steady as he waited silently, giving her time to sort through what she was feeling. Finally she shook her head, the admission all the more agonizing from the unexpected vulnerability that followed it.
He looked unsurprised. “I thought not. There’s something inside you, Phoenix. Something rare.”
“A fire.” Phoenix ducked her head self-consciously when Malcourt’s eyebrows rose to meet his hairline. “Tha’s wha’ Camden says, anyhow.”
She’d agreed with him. She’d felt the truth of the statement settle in her bones. And she’d begun to wonder if she hadn’t known all along. There had always been a whisper of something unknown that had remained hidden until she came here. Something that had begun to stir when she felt that first faint pull towards Malcourt’s cave in the clearing. Something that had awoken.
Malcourt watched her, assessing her reactions. “You would do well to listen to Camden. He usually knows what he’s talking about. More than any Junior Apprentice should - and I’m not just saying that as his Master. Though,” he gave a little smile, “I am exceedingly proud of him.”
Phoenix returned the smile, secretly relieved that someone else in the castle showed kindness to the boy.
“However,” Malcourt tapped his chin, “we are not here to talk about Camden. We are here to talk about you. At least that was the plan...” He looked to Pip, as if the owl would join the conversation, but she continued to ignore the two without pause.
“You said tha’ some people... expect wha’ happened to me?”
“Ah! Yes. Thank you.” The Mastercaller paused for a moment, as if unsure how to continue. “Some people - children - are raised expecting to develop the Calling. I was, my Master was, and Camden was… to a point.” He frowned at a memory, but seeing her confused look he continued with a wave of his hand. “It’s in the blood, Phoenix. Most noble families carry the Old Blood in some form or another. The older the blood, the stronger the Calling. Not so strong as it was back when Man shared the Land with the Old Folk, but it can manifest in many different ways; the most common of course being the Hearing - like how you first Heard me when I called to you.
“When trained properly, those with the Calling can strengthen their abilities. Oftentimes they develop a Talent - a type of ability that is stronger or more prevalent than the others - such as healing, or fire... usually when they don’t mean to. It can activate with stress or emotional turmoil. Like a bad dream, for instance.”
Phoenix blushed when she realized he was talking about her. She rubbed her thumb between her fingers self-consciously and wondered if anything happened at Angor without his knowledge. “But, if it’s in th’ blood... does tha’ mean I have it? Could I use it to find my family?” Phoenix felt a glimmer of hope at the prospect. She’d never dared to dream that she might have family still living.
Malcourt’s blue eyes were thoughtful. “More than that, Phoenix. Your Calling is too strong - especially for one so young who hasn’t had any guidance. I would wager both your parents came from old blood based on how your abilities act out.”
Phoenix felt her hope turn to disbelief at his suggestion. “But, why...” All of her life she’d accepted that she was Bloodless. Any hope of finding out who she was had died with the Cobbers. But if it turned out she wasn’t Bloodless - if she could somehow trace it back to her family…
“Why would they live on a farm?” Malcourt finished her thought, drumming his fingers against his knee. “I don’t know. I can only guess that they were hiding from something.” He set the treefruit on the rug, careful to leave its curled leaf intact. “Though I honestly can’t imagine what two noble-bloods would be hiding from. If they were Callers I definitely would have heard of it. Every Caller would have. Unless the Calling skipped their generation...” He stared off momentarily, considering the different options. Phoenix remained silent, watching the curiosity flicker in his expression, how the intrigue that animated his face was pulled by the undercurrent of excitement. She understood why he was adamant that she come with him.
“You knew from th’ start, didn’t you?”
Malcourt smiled slowly, and Phoenix was surprised to see that he was embarrassed. “After you collapsed, I could feel that there was... something about you - I just didn’t know what. I still don’t know what. But I knew I couldn’t lea
ve you there alone, and I’d decided to go back to look for you if you decided not to return with me… once the King was healed. However,” he clapped his hands so loudly that Pip ruffled her wings and berated him with an angry hoot. “Sorry, love,” he apologized to the owl. “However,” he started again, lowering his voice, “that is not why I called you here. I do intend to find out - and I am quite resourceful when I put my mind to it, by the by - but we currently have more pressing matters to attend to!”
The Mastercaller rose fluidly before she could respond, his expression serious after his grand proclamation. He walked to a small desk that nestled into a stone alcove, resting his hand on the top of the table for a moment. Phoenix could hear a soft click, and an unlocked drawer slid open. He carefully removed a thickly-folded cloth and set it on a large desk in the center of the room, pushing aside the scrolls and parchments that had already staked a claim to the surface. He beckoned for Phoenix to join him as he unfolded the rich material.
A small pile of jewels rested in the middle of the cloth. They were cut into various shapes and sizes, their colored light blending together and casting small rainbows around them. Carefully, reverently, Malcourt used the tip of a finger to separate them; pushing them apart from one another so that they no longer touched.
Phoenix held her breath. She was afraid that any sudden movement on her part would somehow cause harm to the treasure before her.
“Do you know what these are?” he asked.
Phoenix looked at them thoughtfully and shook her head. “No, but I think I saw Camden wearin’ one.” She remembered the strange ring on his finger from earlier.
Malcourt nodded. “Exactly so, Phoenix. These are focus stones. Apprentice Callers use them while in training. They act as a conduit when they’re learning to use their Power. They also act as a shield to protect the wearer; they absorb excess Power if too much of it builds up.”
“Too much of it?” Phoenix looked at the stones nervously, feeling the familiar tension stretch along the scars between her shoulder blades.
“Nothing you have to worry about just yet,” he smiled. “Sometimes, when in training, it’s possible for a Caller to get too absorbed in what they’re doing. Power will build up, and once it reaches a certain point it can’t be dismissed easily. It has to go somewhere. The stones can help to focus it so that it doesn’t become destructive. It also helps the wearer to avoid unintentional outbursts.” He let her look at them a moment longer, watching her. “Do you have a favourite?”
It was another test. Phoenix squared her shoulders and forced herself to consider each of the stones before her. They were all mesmerizing. They twinkled like colored stars against the backdrop of the dark cloth, but eventually she felt a pull towards two of the brilliant gems. Afraid to choose them both, she pointed to the smaller of the two. “Th’ green,” she admitted at last, ignoring the purple that looked almost black in comparison.
“Hold out your hand,” Malcourt commanded.
She did so, and Malcourt carefully placed the gem in her palm. Immediately, a strange jolt caused her arm to tense. With a yelp, she jerked her hand back, causing the stone to fall past the desk and land on the floor. “Oh!” she exclaimed, surprised by her reaction. She anxiously cast about for the fallen treasure.
Malcourt chuckled. “Don’t worry, Phoenix. That can happen now and then. You should have seen me my first time holding one. I nearly threw it out a window!”
He located the gem easily and placed it firmly back on the cloth. “So, that one’s eliminated, but I’m sure you’ll find one that suits you. Unfortunately, that means that you’re going to have to do it again.”
The next hour passed with Phoenix touching the different stones, and Malcourt watching and judging her reactions. Sometimes she was able to pick them up and hold them. Other times she could only place a finger on them before the discomfort made her jerk her hand back. The longer that they continued, the more convinced Phoenix became that she could hear a faint hum coming from the stones. It got to the point that she could tell before she touched a certain stone whether it would be uncomfortable or not.
They finished when Phoenix eliminated the last one. Dejectedly, she sat with her hands in her lap, looking morosely at the cloth before her and feeling as though she had failed.
“None of them appealed to you?” The Mastercaller carefully set the final stone back with the others.
“They’re all beautiful!” Phoenix said, hurriedly, so as not to give offense. “They just...”
“Don’t sound right?” When she winced, he nodded understandingly. “These aren’t the only focus stones in Angoria, Phoenix. Worry not. We’ll find you one. We’ll just have to try again.”
Phoenix stifled a groan. She ignored her frustrations. Her head ached from the constant humming around her, but the need to finish this for Master Malcourt overrode any objections. If she couldn’t complete one simple task, why would he ever agree to help her?
“This one was the closest,” she offered helpfully, picking up the dark purple stone. “If there are others like this...?”
He shook his head. “Unfortunately, that’s not how it works.”
Phoenix dropped it back on the table. As it fell, it hit the original green stone and ricocheted off of it. The noise that the two made on impact caused her ear to twitch. She was grateful that the noise didn’t add to her headache.
Malcourt narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. “Do that again,” he told her.
Phoenix, mindful not to chip the gems, let the two strike off of each other again. The result was a clear bell-like sound that echoed inside her head.
“Open your hand.” Malcourt’s complete attention was on the stones. Once she did so, he picked up both gems and held them in his hand. His expression turned to one of discomfort. His jaw tightened in pain, and, hesitantly, he placed them in Phoenix’s hand. She winced, expecting the end result to hurt.
Instead, the pitches shifted. Like tumbling sand, the stones shed their vibrations until the two notes purred in harmony, reveling in the strength of the chord. The hidden whisper, the one that she had only just discovered, no longer whispered. It had begun to hum.
It coiled itself around the base of her spine, its warmth a promise of things yet to come. Maybe, just maybe, she always had this strength inside of her. And maybe now, by accepting it, she would finally have the freedom to find out who she was.
Calm spread over her body, and Phoenix couldn’t help but smile in relief.
Triumphant, Malcourt jumped up and rummaged through a pile of scrolls on the table and pulled a small hide bag from beneath them. Wordlessly he placed it in Phoenix’s empty hand.
Carefully he picked up the remaining stones and placed them back on the thick cloth. He folded the material back over itself in order to keep them contained.
“Do you remember the night we stayed in the field?” he asked her.
Phoenix swallowed and nodded. “Th’ night we were attacked?” she asked. She could still remember her feeling of fear when the men had ambushed the campsite where they had all been resting.
Malcourt nodded. “Did you happen to notice what I was doing while you and Sylvia were setting up the fire?” he asked, returning the stones to the table and locking the shelf with a soft word.
Phoenix thought back. She remembered the explosion of the light as the attacker had thrown his powder against Malcourt’s protection circle.
“Drawin’,” she answered, looking up to see if that was what he meant. “A circle, around th’ camp. An’ somethin’ else, too, I think?”
He smiled at her. “Very good, Phoenix. Well done.” He walked over to the hearth where Pip was preening and extended a finger to her. The owl chirped at him conversationally and waddled forward, rubbing her feathered cheek against it. Malcourt smiled and said something to the owl that Phoenix was unable to hear. He seemed relaxed as he stood there, silently, while Pip rubbed her beak against his finger.
“Power is a deeply personal
thing, Phoenix,” Malcourt said at last. “Everyone’s manifests in a different way. However, with the proper training and study, it can be a limitless force under your control. And I will train you to control it. Do you understand?”
Phoenix looked at the focus stones that she still held in her hand. The lines of her palms tingled slightly where they touched. The vibrations had spread down her arms and caused her hair to stand on end, but she found the tingling feeling calming more than anything.
“Wha’ did you mean by ‘manifest’?” she asked. She closed her hand around the stones, causing them to hum softly against her skin.
Malcourt stroked Pip’s pale chest before pulling a scroll from the shelf next to him. “’Develop’, I guess you could say. ‘Act out’, even. Those of us who have Power develop what we refer to as a Talent; a certain inclination towards one of the many components that can be affected by our abilities. We can train ourselves to use other avenues, of course, but it takes more effort when compared to those which come more naturally.”
He returned to where he had been sitting and, once again at eye level, studied her face carefully. “Unfortunately, there can be consequences... like the need for new footwear, for example.” His eyes dropped down to her scorched boots, as if reading her thoughts.
Phoenix ducked her head. She had been thinking about the dream that she had had, and how the arm of the couch still waited for Master Minna’s expert ministrations to remove the marks where the fire had taken hold.
She cleared her throat. “So tha’ was my fault?” she asked, remembering the faces of Brianna and the others as they glared at her for interrupting their sleep.
Malcourt shook his head and patted her knee softly. “I think ‘fault’ is too strong a word in this case, Phoenix. It implies forethought and assigns blame. Did it come from you? Yes. I won’t do you the disservice of pretending that the fire was not brought on by your unusual dream - but it certainly wasn’t your fault. I could no more blame you for that than I could blame someone for sneezing. You reacted naturally to a circumstance beyond your control. Anyone who thinks otherwise... well... is a fool.”
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