Chapter 16
That night, her back still smarting from Fiachna’s lashes for missing Vespers, éadha waited until Ailbhe and the other girls had fallen asleep then slipped out of her dorm, through the Keepers’ quad and on up into the forest behind First House.
Tucked inside her tunic were the remains of Magret’s book.
Though the outer pages were badly burned, she could still make out the drawing she’d been looking for when Ailbhe caught her.
In it, the Channeller had used their power to create a mirror that hung in the air, reflecting their lover’s face back to them.
Her plan was to use the same mirror illusion to hide her supply of power to Ionáin along the silver thread between them.
She made her way to the ruins of a summer pavilion at the western end of the island.
The whole forest was dotted with ruins like it, fantastical buildings summoned from the earth by long-ago apprentices practicing their art, then left to crumble back into the forest. After setting a couple of were-lights on the ground, she stepped into the center of the cracked floor, bowed her head, and summoned up a silver thread of power.
Reaching out her hand, she sent the thread into a marble pillar that lay covered in ivy on the ground.
Long and slender the thread stretched, no wider than her little finger but clearly visible to anyone with eyes for power.
Then with her other hand she began to weave a mirror around the thread, copying the gestures in Magret’s book.
As the mirror covered the thread like an invisible sheath, it gradually disappeared from view.
Now if someone with eyes for power came into the pavilion, all they’d see was the glow of the were-lights, reflecting on the narrow mirror sheath that completely covered the line of her power, coursing along the silver thread.
She offered up a silent prayer of thanks to the drawing’s author, whoever they were.
The mirror sheath itself might just be visible to a close observer, but éadha was counting on the fact that the Masters and Head Keeper would expect to simply see any use of power by an apprentice and wouldn’t be looking closely for something hidden.
She had six nights left to be ready to share her gift invisibly with Ionáin.
Each one of those nights she slipped into the forest, staying out until dawn practicing until she was sure she could do it perfectly, the sheath hiding her power from the moment it sprang from her hand and arrowed toward its target.
And as she pulled her power from belly to heart and out, she found that all the training and meditation had made her stronger, faster.
That the tiny were-light she’d first made sitting under the oak tree after Ionáin’s Reckoning had been growing all the while inside her into a steady fire that’d warm her if she let it.
There was a deep joy for her, coming into her own powers, and even though her focus was on perfecting the mirror sheath, she also couldn’t resist seeing what else she could do, summoning were-lights and small fireballs deep in the forest at night.
Once more she could fly. Drawing only on her own heart’s strength, she’d never be able to fly as fast or as high as someone channeling strength out of many Fodder—it would drain her too much—but it was enough.
To be able to rise unseen among the trees, weave between the branches, feel the whisper of pine needles against her face as she flew through the canopy reborn.
Up all night practicing, each morning she’d pull her hood over her head and half doze through meditation.
She struggled badly, though, in training, her arms and legs trembling with tiredness.
Ailbhe and her cronies were quick to spot this, gleefully taking the chance to deliver so many “accidental” blows to the head in handball that Irial sent her to the Library for a few days to catalog accounts of dragon patrols instead.
Yet despite this, éadha was still happier than she’d been since she’d arrived on First Island.
In returning to her powers, she’d remembered herself; she’d taken back from Ailbhe, Senan, and the Masters the right to have the last word in who she was.
With channeling proper about to start, the apprentices had a little more freedom, and in those quiet hours she’d slip away to the coppice in front of First House to practice or sleep or just sit staring out to sea.
On the last evening before channeling began, as she sat with her back against a tree trunk, she heard feet moving softly behind her.
It was Ionáin. He sat down, nudging her over to make room.
She didn’t say anything, but inside she felt almost annoyed at his sudden appearance.
After those brief moments together in his room, he’d gone straight back to ignoring her in public, stalking past her with the other Channeller apprentices without so much as a glance.
She’d worked hard to make her peace with that, telling herself this was how it had to be on Lambay.
But now here he was, unbalancing her all over again with his nearness.
The way it reminded her of the last time he’d sat in beside her like this, that day on the rocky fell above Ailm’s Keep when everything changed between them.
And just like that, her body shivered into awareness, remembering every touch, every caress since that day, like they were written on her body and only needed his touch to flare into life once more.
It would’ve been better, she thought, if he hadn’t come.
After a moment he said, “I can’t believe we’re actually starting. I don’t feel any different. Senan and the twins talk about being able to see threads when they inhale the molash at Matins, but all I can see is a sort of shimmer in the air.”
“I wouldn’t worry; half of what Senan says is bravado,” éadha replied, her mind automatically going to her gift, reassuring herself it was there, ready to be given.
More quietly, he went on, “Linn told me Ailbhe’s been bragging about putting manners on you. I wish you’d told me.”
éadha’s mouth turned down as she fought to keep her voice steady, trying not to picture Ailbhe’s face as she threw Magret’s book on the fire. “It’s fine. I’m fine. Ailbhe doesn’t scare me.”
“What did she do?”
“She…she sent me a warning.” She glanced across at Ionáin, and though she tried, she couldn’t keep the question out of her voice as she went on, “She seems to think she has a claim on you.”
Ionáin shook his head. “It’s our Families—all the Families—they get a bit crazy about this stuff, and Ailbhe thinks…” He stopped himself before going on. “But, éadha, listen. It’s only them. It’s not me.”
“She seemed very sure though. That she’s going to get what she wants. In the end.”
“Stop it, éadha. That isn’t fair. Not when we both know who we are to each other. How could I even see someone else that way?”
Ionáin’s face was a mix of hurt and frustration as he turned to face her.
But the weeks of isolation, of frustration, had cut too deep.
She needed more than this if she was to hold on, and so she said, “No, Ionáin, I don’t know, not anymore.
You say these things when we’re together.
But when you’re with the other apprentices, you’re like someone else. Someone I don’t know.”
“But, éadha, I told you, it’s a game.”
éadha wanted to scream. How could he keep talking about games when these were their lives?
“Well maybe you’re getting a little too good at playing it,” she bit out, climbing to her feet.
“Look, I’ve to go get changed for Vespers.
Some of us get whipped if we’re late.” Ionáin was staring up at her, a look of shock on his face at the anger visible on hers.
“I never asked for this. I know I don’t have a name, but I never asked to be your dirty secret.
Someone you can only talk to behind locked doors or hidden in the trees. ”
éadha’s chest hurt as the words tore out of her.
She’d never fought with Ionáin before, not ever, and it felt as though she was ripping her world in two as she said, “I will wait for you. You know that. But I’m not so sure I know who I’m waiting for anymore.
” She turned to push her way out under the branches.
But she didn’t get past the first tree before her arm was caught from behind, and she was pulled back into the narrow coppice and around to face Ionáin, his eyes blazing.
“Don’t do this, éadha. You have to know.
My whole life…” He paused. “The shape of love in my heart is you. So how could I ever…?”
His eyes flashed all over her face, as if he was picturing losing her, and in the same moment éadha was overwhelmed, too, by the thought of what it’d mean to lose him.
Moving together, the two of them slammed into each other, Ionáin’s hand going behind her head and angling her up toward him, his mouth driving into hers.
In the same instant éadha twisted her hands into his hair, forcing him toward her.
Her lips parted and his tongue pushed in, sliding hard against hers.
The force of his kiss pushed her backward until she was against the trunk of the tree behind her, her back digging into its ridged edges.