Chapter 16 #2
And there was almost a fury between them, driving each one to possess the other, mixed with a shared terror at what they’d almost done.
Ionáin’s other hand had braced against the tree trunk as he pushed her back against it, trapping her there.
Now, though, both his hands came around to hold her face, cupping her cheeks so intently, as if his entire existence was focused on kissing her, laying claim to her lips, her mouth.
She kissed him back just as fiercely, with a hunger as deep and as strong as his.
He was so close now she could feel the heat of his body radiating through his tunic and the answering heat rising inside of her.
Sweeping the length of her as he braced one leg against hers, so that for the first time she felt the whole lean, hard length of him, lining up along her body, like two pieces of a whole.
Now his mouth left hers but only to kiss the sensitive skin around her mouth with soft, trailing kisses, as if he was intent on claiming every part of her, and she wanted to cry aloud at the sheer, teasing pleasure of it.
Her eyes flashed open to see his own just inches away, looking straight at her, never shifting his gaze as her breath shortened, to see the look in his eyes. The beauty of it, of him.
As if from nowhere, tears started in éadha’s eyes, even as Ionáin kissed her once more.
One overflowed and ran down over his fingers.
And she couldn’t have said why she was crying, only that in this moment, for the first time, she truly understood the impossibility of this, of the two of them.
She was tied to Ionáin because he needed her power, but the Masters, the Families—she knew now they were never going to let her have him.
It didn’t matter that it was real. His world didn’t care; it’d just enjoy breaking them all the more.
Ionáin might think they could play them at their games and outwit them.
But since Ailbhe’s attack, she’d seen this world’s true face.
“Hey,” Ionáin said as he felt her tears on his fingers. He pulled back, his eyes searching her face. “éadha, what is it?”
In the distance the temple bells began to peal, summoning them to Vespers.
éadha rubbed the tears off her cheek with the palm of her hand. “It’s nothing. Don’t mind me. All this”—she gestured behind her toward First House—“it’s just harder than I thought. But you’re right. We’ll hold on. We have to. I’d better go, I really don’t want to be whipped again.”
A moment later she was gone, ducking out under the branches and sprinting back to the Keepers’ quad to get changed.
That night after Vespers, éadha stayed out practicing the whole night, only returning to her dorm just before the bells for Matins sounded.
Though she hadn’t slept, she was keyed up, her power surging inside her, ready to flash across to Ionáin.
But as she walked into the temple and looked across to Ionáin’s usual spot, she saw he was pale and upset.
Around him, the Channellers were whispering among themselves, only stopping when Master Dathin rose to speak.
“In keeping with tradition, the first trial of the Channeller apprentices took place before dawn this morning. I’m pleased to say all bar two of this year’s students passed.
I’ve posted the rankings outside the temple.
These will be posted weekly until the autumn trials.
Keepers, your assessment will take place before Matins tomorrow morning. ”
After Matins, the apprentices crowded around the rankings, looking for their names. Senan’s name was at the top, followed by Linn’s.
Ionáin’s was one of the two listed at the foot of the page as unranked.
As éadha stared at the ranking sheet, she heard Senan mutter, “So much for the great flare of power at his Reckoning. I always knew it was too good to be true. That Ailm bloodline is tapped out. It’s embarrassing, really, how they’re trying to cling on to the Keep. I wonder if he’ll be sent home.”
Beside her, Ailbhe’s normally composed face looked stricken as she took in Ionáin’s failure while her friends hovered, and éadha overheard Muir whisper to Síofra, “He left straight after temple, didn’t speak to anyone.”
The other apprentices soon dispersed to their quarters, and éadha was left standing alone by the board, filled with a mix of fury with herself and a rising sense of panic.
When Master Dathin announced the testing of the apprentices, she’d assumed it’d be in class, not in some predawn visit to their rooms. Now all her planning and training had come to nothing. Ionáin had failed his test.
She needed to find him, find out what’d happen next.
Was he going to be sent home? Could he ask the Masters to retest him?
Even as the thought gripped her, she was moving, turning in the direction she’d seen him take.
She was so preoccupied she didn’t notice the tall figure standing in the shadow of the cloister until he called after her.
“He’s not your responsibility, you know.” It was Gry, leaning against the east wall of the cloister, opposite the archway leading toward the Channellers’ quad.
“You don’t understand,” éadha blurted out, not breaking her stride as she headed for the arch.
“I have eyes,” Gry responded dryly. “He doesn’t know you’re gifted, does he?” At this éadha pulled up, looking around her to make sure there wasn’t anyone else there.
“This isn’t any of your business,” she hissed angrily.
“We’ve already established you are my business,” said Gry, unperturbed, “and you can’t afford—this.
” He gestured toward her. “You heard Master Dathin earlier, they’re testing us before tomorrow’s Matins.
Your thought-wall needs to be as strong as you can make it.
Not stained with worry about a Family boy who clearly isn’t worrying about you. ”
He pushed himself away from the wall, stepping out from the shadows.
It was going to be a hot day, the summer sun shining from a cloudless sky into the unshaded center of the cloister.
Now he was in front of her, the sun reflecting on the sharp planes of his cheekbones, picking up the gold flecks in his eyes.
There was a challenge in them, too, one she hadn’t seen before.
She had to stop herself from taking a step backward, and deep inside, her silver fish started into life, churning in the lockspace behind her thought-wall.
Stepping in close, Gry bent down toward her ear, his lips so close she felt his breath whisper down her neck as he murmured, “Love isn’t just waiting or sacrifice, you know.
You deserve better than that,” before swinging away, on toward the Keepers’ quad.
éadha stood there for a long moment in the bright light of the courtyard. Eventually she gave herself a mental shake and set off for the Channellers’ quad. But as she got there, she saw Coll talking to a manservant at Ionáin’s door.
The servant was shaking his head. “No, sir. I’m sorry. Master Ionáin hasn’t been here since before Matins.”
Skipping breakfast, she used the time before class began to scour First House, even climbing up onto the roof, sure she’d sense his silver thread if she came close to him.
But no one could hide like Ionáin when he didn’t want to be found.
He didn’t appear in class all day, and after Vespers, when she went looking in the forest, she found no trace of him.
It was almost dark when she finally returned to her dorm.
As she climbed the stairs she felt desolate, just about convinced the Masters must’ve already shipped him off the island.
As she came into the room, Ailbhe and two of the other girls were talking. Ailbhe looked as distraught as éadha, and she felt an unfamiliar twinge of fellow feeling, each of them in their own way tied up in Ionáin’s destiny.
Síofra was sitting beside Ailbhe on the bed, saying, “It really is awfully bad luck for you to have a second one fail their Channeller test. At least Gry has some power.”
“Go easy, Síofra,” interrupted Cara. “You know it isn’t definite yet. He’ll be retested before they make a final decision.”
“When?” éadha blurted out. The three girls stared at her. éadha never spoke directly to them, or they to her. éadha reddened under their surprised gazes but repeated her question.
“When will they retest him?”
Síofra answered with a roll of her eyes. “Not tonight. They’re testing us just before dawn, so there isn’t time to do a ceremony for him too. But tomorrow night or soon after. They won’t wait long to find out for sure.”
“Thank you,” said éadha, though the girls were already turning away from her. She made for her bed, trying not to let on that she was barely able to stand on legs suddenly shaky with relief and remembered exhaustion.
That night she slept in her bed for the first time in days.
When Fiachna shook her awake in the predawn darkness, a candle lantern in her hand, she easily identified the silver Fodder threads running from behind a screen at the back of the dorm.
After Matins her name stood at the head of the Keeper rankings, followed by Ailbhe’s, as the novice with the fastest, most accurate thread identification.
Let the Keeper girls try to twist that, she thought with some satisfaction, though when she turned around she thought she detected a warning look in Gry’s eyes. She didn’t say anything, slipping away to sleep in a nook in the Library, knowing there were sleepless nights ahead.
It took two nights before the Masters tested Ionáin again, two nights éadha spent hidden on the crosswalk closest to Ionáin’s bedroom window.
She was so exhausted she kept slipping in and out of sleep, jolting herself awake, terrified she’d missed the examiners.
Her vigil was finally rewarded when she saw a line of lanterns emerge from the other end of the walkway, passing close by her hiding place and entering Ionáin’s quarters.
éadha concentrated, seeing Ionáin’s thread color change and deepen as he awoke.
With the skill born of those nights in the forest, she pulled her power from within herself, from belly to heart and out, and sent it flying invisibly through the air to pulse imperceptibly into Ionáin.
As it did, she felt an answering start. With her gift flowing through him, she knew he’d be able to see the silver Fodder threads the Masters wanted him to see.
Not long after, the swaying line of lanterns passed her once more. She pulled away, knowing as she did she’d left enough power with him that he’d feel its pull for the rest of the day.
Later, at Matins, she watched blearily as his familiar tawny head appeared, proud and erect in its usual place in the Channeller rows.
The news had got around, and she saw the quick pats on the back from Coll and Linn, the nod from Master Irial as they rose to chant.
In the classroom a new ranking sheet had been posted, with Ionáin’s name now in fourth place.
They headed away out to handball practice.
Still suspended, éadha had to report to the Library, where the Master Librarian set her cataloging old dragon reports.
Eager as she was to hear how Ionáin got on, the day dragged, and when she was finally released she hurried to the beech copse, hoping he’d come again to find her.
She sat, she paced, she climbed into the trees and practiced her flying hidden among the branches, but he didn’t come.
She stayed so long that in the end she was almost late for Vespers, forced to use her last dregs of power to quickly fix the familiar mess Ailbhe had made of her bed in the dorm before racing across a walkway and discreetly hurdling down onto the lawn in front of the temple doors, slipping inside just as they closed.
That night Ionáin was all Ailbhe and the others could talk about.
He’d been so full of energy he’d beaten all comers at handball.
Master Irial himself had challenged him to a game, and he’d almost bested the Master before he ran out of steam.
Lying on her bed listening to the chatter, éadha felt a flash of annoyance at her life force being spent so cheaply on games and impressing Keeper girls.
But then she closed her eyes and thought of his thread shining in the night with relieved joy and went to sleep well content with her day’s work.