Chapter 9
Nine
Ivy
Even after spending the night on the mountain, I haven’t gotten used to this place.
We’re sitting on plump cushions around a low table—a little squashed together because the dining area obviously wasn’t built with six people in mind and we’re trying to give our host enough space to be polite.
Sunlight filters through translucent panes in the rocky ceiling overhead, drawn there by magic. It streaks over us in a golden glow.
The table’s wood shimmers with little carvings that move if you pause to watch them. Near my end, there’s a fish that leaps out of the wavering water of a stream and a deer that gambols along a stretch of trees.
Rheave taps an etching on the corner of the table in front of him and laughs with delight at whatever effect he provoked. Casimir leans over to watch with a friendly smile.
It’s incredible, Julita says, watching through my eyes. Like the work of a master artist.
If that wasn’t enough magic, Sulla has a whole array of supernaturally enhanced tools at her disposal. Despite the fact that this room is carved into a mountainside, running water flows to her sink. I watched her fill a kettle from the tap only for the vessel to immediately start to steam.
The plates our meal of fried eggs and buttered rolls are sitting on exude warmth to keep our food at the perfect temperature. I only had to reach for the saltshaker before it leapt the rest of the way into my hand.
I’ve never been surrounded by so many objects imbued with power before. My skin quivers with a constant tingling as my cracked soul resonates with the magic.
I dab the corner of my roll in the runny egg yolk and pause to savor the mingling of savory and nutty flavors on my tongue. I’ve never had this kind of bread before either.
Julita hums alongside my contentment. And the food is rather delectable too.
It’s a far cry from the typical elaborate spreads at the royal college, but it beats the bare bones fare we’ve been reduced to while on the run.
Despite my enjoyment of the meal, curiosity itches at me. Last night, Sulla hustled us into a bedroom and supplied us with down-stuffed mattresses and blankets for our slumber on the stone floor. She deflected all our questions with the promise that she’d get into everything in the morning.
I think she wanted a little more time to take stock of our unexpected arrival. She has to understand that we want to take stock of her just as much.
And it is morning now.
I study a carving of a woman in a dress who twirls on ever-shifting feet and then lift my gaze to meet our host’s.
Now that I’ve seen her up close, I’d put her in her late forties or early fifties—older than my mother.
Her silver and black hair winds from her temples in two thick braids that she coils together at the back of her head.
The even lines at the corners of her eyes and mouth make her face look serene, as if she hasn’t smiled or frowned all that often.
I’ve never heard of a riven sorcerer this old. Sometimes they manage to go unnoticed for a couple of decades, but usually their increasingly ambitious manipulations draw notice before they reach their thirties.
And then there’s the fact that she doesn’t appear any less sane than I am.
I motion to the table and the glowing panes overhead. “Did you create all this with your magic?”
Sulla lets out a light chuckle. “Oh, no. The Haven has been a home to riven sorcerers for ages longer than I’ve been alive. We all contribute a little. It adds up over time.”
Stavros shoots her a wary look. He’s come to accept that I’m not a monster just because of my magic, and I suppose he can’t help seeing that Sulla is hardly a raving lunatic either, but his past experiences with the riven have left him with more scars that you can see.
Accepting her hospitality and not overwhelming her with demands for answers has to be harder for him than the rest of us.
“Are there others living here?” he asks carefully, with a tick of his eyes so he can focus on her reaction as she answers.
“Not at the moment.” Sulla lifts her teacup to her lips and takes a sip before going on.
“There aren’t many who make it to the Haven.
I arrived at fourteen, and the two sorcerers already in residence then were nearly as old as I am now.
They’ve since passed. I’ve been on my own here for nearly ten years.
I was starting to think I’d be the last of us. ”
In my head, Julita shudders. Ten years! It’s a wonder she didn’t go insane just from that.
I try to imagine living somewhere—even a spot as magically animated as this one—for a decade without any human contact and have to suppress a shiver of my own. “Do you never come down the mountain to get supplies or… or anything?”
Sulla shakes her head. “We’re only safe as long as we stay out of sight. If word got out about an odd woman who lives on the mountain, people would start poking around out of curiosity. And then it might all be ruined.”
I’m starting to see why she was so unnerved by the five of us showing up together.
Alek glances around the room. “How have you kept yourself occupied all that time?”
“There’s plenty to do. The sorcerers before me enchanted various entertainments, and we’ve amassed a collection of books—many written by the Haven’s residents.
There are gardens and animals to tend to.
And one of the best things for a riven sorcerer who wishes to live in harmony with their power is meditation. ”
The scholar’s eyes light up at the mention of books, but Sulla doesn’t seem to notice his reaction.
She scoops the last bit of her egg into her mouth and pushes to her feet.
“Speaking of which, I should begin your training, Ivy. It’s shocking that you’ve remained sane as long as you have without any guidance. ”
My stomach knots. I didn’t get much out of Sulla last night, but she insisted on hearing the basics of my history, at least in relation to my magic. “I had a lot of motivation to keep my powers in check.”
But my efforts haven’t been without their problems. I remember Sulla wincing when I told her about the way my magic has lashed out—the pain that’s seared itself through my lungs and gut so many times—and gulp the last of my roll. “I’m ready if you are.”
If I can live to be as old as she is—older than many people in Silana who aren’t riven become—without going mad with my power, I’d do just about anything.
Stavros catches my gaze, his eyes with their mix of brown and blue darkening with concern. “Take it easy. You know how to judge your magic’s reactions best.”
To judge whether it might slip my control, he means. He trusts my commitment to keeping my power in check, but not my power’s demands to be unleashed.
“I’m sure we’ll start slow.” I turn to Casimir. “Did the tea help?”
When Sulla noticed his symptoms, she offered him an herbal brew last night and again this morning that she said should ease them. I haven’t heard him sniffle since he woke up.
The courtesan beams at me and then at our host. “I feel much better already. Thank you. Sulla, I don’t want to intrude on your privacy, but is it all right if I explore a little? I’m already intrigued by the many wonders you and those before you have created.”
Rheave’s face brightens. “Yes, I’d like to see them all too.”
Sulla dips her head. “Feel free to wander within the boundaries of the Haven that I showed you last night. I only ask that you don’t venture beyond them without me there to ensure we stay concealed.”
“That’s no problem at all,” Casimir says.
Stavros motions to Alek. “I can run you through some more of our own training exercises. Ivy shouldn’t be the only one honing her skills.”
As Alek appears to restrain a grimace, Rheave pauses with a conflicted expression. “Maybe I should train too. In case there’s any trouble for Ivy here.”
His gaze follows me as I join Sulla by the doorway.
Sulla shakes her head with a light laugh. “No trouble will find us within the Haven. But you can pass the time however you wish.”
She ushers me out of the room. As she leads me down the hall past the bedroom where we slept, her voice drops to a murmur. “Your companions do seem very devoted to you. I… I’ve never seen those who aren’t riven themselves accept someone like us to that extent.”
I give a rough chuckle. “It didn’t happen instantly. And it helped that they’d known me for a while before they found out—and that Kosmel showed he was on my side.”
“Still, it’s a rare thing. Almost magical in itself. You’re very lucky.”
A twinge runs through my chest thinking of her many years of isolation. “I know. Most of the time I have trouble believing how lucky I am.”
Julita huffs. Not just luck. You earned every bit of devotion they offer you and then some.
My mouth twitches in a smile of gratitude, but I don’t pass on her comment to Sulla. We haven’t seen any point in mentioning my other supernatural oddities.
The floor slants upward through the mountainside. We pass other rooms with door-less entrances, and I catch glimpses of the books she mentioned as well as various other collections of objects and storage containers.
I don’t realize that we’ve wound around back to the surface until Sulla pushes open a door and the cool autumn air washes over me. We climb a winding path of stone steps past several slanted gardens with a variety of crops.
Magic dances in the air; little spurts of water erupt to dampen the soil.
Sulla escorts me through another doorway into a smaller interior structure that’s no less fascinating than the first. A large bucket with a strange lid appears to be shearing grain off a set of stalks of its own volition.
Drying herbs rustle as the thread they’re hanging from creeps in a steady rotation.