Chapter 17
LYRA
I found Dax upside down in the courtyard. That was the only way to describe it. He hung by one knee from the lower branch of a silverleaf tree, one arm dangling toward the grass, the other clutching an apple as though this were a perfectly reasonable way to spend midday.
Raiden stood beneath him with his arms crossed. Emrin sat on a nearby stone bench, a book open across her lap, though she did not appear to be reading. Lidia leaned against the tree trunk, radiating enough disapproval to curdle milk.
Dax spotted us and grinned. “Lyra.”
“Why are you upside down, Dax?” I asked.
Raiden pointed at him. “Scientific inquiry.”
Lidia did not blink. “And here I was thinking it was nothing more than pure stupidity.”
“All great discoveries are mocked at first.”
Vareena stopped beside me, one hand still looped through my arm from where she had dragged me out of the dormitory insisting that if I stayed inside any longer, I’d start looking like a ghost haunting my own room.
“Dax,” Vareena said carefully, “why are you actually upside down?”
Dax took a bite of the apple. From his position, it should have been difficult. He managed anyway. “Raiden said I couldn’t hang longer than three minutes. I’ve made it to four and a half.”
“I think the scientific inquiry is less about your durability and more about whether you actually have a brain or a pile of rocks in its place.” Lidia looked up from the tree’s base.
“I definitely theorize rocks.” Emrin chimed in from her spot on the bench. Dax brought his free hand to his chest, “You wound me sister.” Then he turned to me, “Lyra? I know you won’t let me down.”
“I’m sorry Dax but if you did have a brain surely all of your blood would have rushed to it by now.”
“I think that was even more insulting than my own sister agreeing with Sparkie over there.”
A ball of winding flame no bigger than the apple he held in his hand, came hurling from the earth beneath him.
So fast that he barely got the last of the nickname out.
So fast that there was no time for him to catch hold of the branch before the flame licked at his legs.
Dax fell with a thud that quite literally shook the ground beneath him.
None of us could hold back our laughter.
I don’t think any of us wanted to. He let himself bask in the impact for a minute before he pulled himself upright and flicked the ash from his singed pants.
He landed four feet from where Lidia sat, now laughing against the trunk of the tree he had just fallen from.
A low flame sizzling out in the palm of her open hand.
“Was the hell Lidia! Was that seriously necessary?”
“I don’t know Daxeran. Want to call me sparkie again and we’ll test the theory?” She let a new flame curl in her palm. Raiden threw out his hand between laughs but Dax stood on his own.
“I’m good. You fire wielders and your fragile tempers.”
Raiden was snorting now, “You honestly walked into that one.”
“I was upside down. My judgment was impaired.”
“Well, you’re upright now,” Vareena plucked a leaf from one of his dark curls, “And you’re about to walk right back into it.”
Dax glanced at the faint flame still licking lazily around her fingers.
Emrin had closed her book completely now.
Her thumb rested between the pages to hold her place, but her attention had drifted from all of us to the blackened grass where Dax had landed.
A faint line had formed between her brows.
Dax followed her stare. Whatever joke he’d been about to make died before it reached his mouth. “Did I hurt the roots?”
Emrin looked at him, and for the first time since I’d met Dax, he looked almost sheepish.
“It’s a tree,” Raiden said as Emrin crossed the space between the bench and the tree.
Her fingers moved to the bark beside her. “It’s alive.”
Raiden’s smile dimmed. “I know that.”
“Most people know it,” she said. “But they don’t always remember.”
The silverleaf tree rose above us, its pale branches spreading wide over the courtyard. Its leaves shimmered faintly in the breeze, silver on one side, green on the other. I had thought it beautiful when I first saw it. I had not thought of it as alive in the way Emrin did.
Dax wiped the dirt from his palms. “I’m sorry.
” It was the first time I ever heard him so serious.
Emrin studied him for a moment, then nodded once before pressing her palm against the base of the trunk.
Soft green light threaded beneath her skin.
The grass around the scorch mark stirred.
At first, I thought it was wind. Then tiny shoots began to rise through the burned patch, thin and delicate, pushing through ash as if the earth itself had taken a breath.
The blackened grass did not vanish, but new life curled between the damaged blades.
Emrin withdrew her hand and the light faded with her touch. “There,” she said.
Dax looked at the tiny green shoots. Then at his sister. His face softened in a way that made him look younger. “Show-off.”
Emrin reopened her book. “Men often call women show-offs when they feel inferior.” Raiden choked. Vareena laughed into her hand.
Dax pointed at his sister. “That was vicious,” a smile spread across his face, “I’m proud of you little sister.”
Emrin pulled a second book from her satchel. “Hey Lid, can you return this to the archives for me on your way to the Cindervaults, I’ve got a tutor session after last bell.”
My heart stalled at her words. And apparently everyone noticed.
It was Lidia who asked, “What was that look for?”
“Huh?” I met her amber stare, “Oh I was just thinking about something.”
“About?” She pressed. The Lumina Codex. Kieran. Shadows. The word Starborn glowing across ancient pages. The fact my mother walked these very halls. My eyes drifted to the leaf that Vareena had plucked from Dax’s hair and an impossible thought settled in my bones.
This tree was old enough to have been here long before she was and I couldn’t help but wonder if she had ever stood here with her friends.
Or even with my father. My father. That was a funny thing to think about when I knew absolutely nothing about either of them.
And despite picturing them both standing beneath this Silverleaf tree, I could see neither of their faces.
“Nothing important.” I answered while turning to Emrin, “I can take it back for you. It’s closer to the Luminari Halls than it is to Cindervaults ” I could feel Lidia studying me despite her silence.
“Um, yeah… I guess if you want.” She held the book out toward me.
“If you’re sure.”
“I am.”
I slipped it beneath my arm. “Thank you.”
She smiled, small but genuine. “No. Thank you.”
Raiden stretched his arms overhead until something popped. “Well, I’ve got combat forms in ten minutes.”
“You’ve actually got five,” Lidia corrected.
He winced. “Shit, catch ya tomorrow then.”
I noticed how his eyes lingered on Vareena before he headed in the direction of the Pyra Enclave. Emrin slid her satchel over her shoulder, “And I’ve got to get the materials for my tutor session from the hall of theory. See you guys tomorrow.”
“I’ll walk with you.” Dax tossed what was left of his apple in Lidia’s direction, making sure to hurry after his sister.
“You must want me to light your ass on fire this time Balethorn!” Lidia caught the apple with a burning hand.
He was far enough now that I barely caught the smug grin that he sent over his shoulder.
But not far enough for her to send another flick of flame that landed an inch from his feet with a hiss.
Lidia offered no explanation to where she had to be, she simply grabbed her flame crested bag and walked after them.
Vareena bumped my shoulder with her own, “I’ll see you tonight?”
“Yeah.”
“You promise?” The question caught me off guard. A promise was something given to a friend and the only friends that I ever had were dead or turned their backs on me with the rest of the Hollowlands. But Vareena was a friend wasn’t she? And Dax, and Emrin, Raiden and even Lidia.
“I promise.”
Vareena smiled like she believed me. She squeezed my arm once, then turned toward the path leading back to the Light Quadrant.
I watched her go until the pale ribbon at the end of her braid vanished behind a curve of white stone and flowering vines.
The front chamber of the Archives smelled of parchment, dust, ink, and polished wood.
Rows of long tables filled the central floor, some occupied by Candidates hunched over assignments, others by older candidates murmuring over maps and translation guides.
Lanterns floated above the shelves in neat rows along the walls.
Histories. Botany. Battle theory. Rune structure. Elemental law. Harmless things.
Or things pretending to be harmless.
I crossed to the return desk, where an elderly Archivist with crescent spectacles sat behind a tower of unsorted volumes. He looked up exactly once, took the book from me without a word, checked the spine, and slid it onto a cart beside him.
“Thank you,” I said. He had already returned to his parchment.
Apparently gratitude was not part of the archival system.
I should have left. I had done what I came here pretending to do.
Emrin’s book was returned. No one could say I had lied about that.
But the shelves beyond the main chamber seemed to lean inward, waiting.
I drifted toward them before I admitted I had made the choice.
Past Elemental Histories. Past Sanctum Records.
Past a row of illustrated bestiaries where a creature with far too many teeth shifted inside the ink as I passed.
The farther I walked, the quieter the Archives became.
Candidate voices faded. The scrape of quills disappeared.
Even the lantern light changed, gold thinning into a cooler silver glow.
“I know you’re here.” Silence. I folded my arms. “You dragged me halfway across this library last time. The least you can do is save me the walk.” Nothing.
I sighed. “Fine.” I turned toward the deeper stacks. “I suppose I’ll just leave then.”
A dry, ancient voice drifted through my thoughts.
Liar.
I stopped. Despite myself, the corner of my mouth threatened to lift.
The shelves beside me shivered. Books shifted.
An aisle that hadn’t existed a heartbeat earlier unfolded between them.
“Show-off,” I muttered and followed the new passage until the shelves opened into the familiar circular chamber.
Now you seek me?
I walked forward until only a few steps separated us.
The Codex did not open. For once, I found its silence more infuriating than its riddles.
The glow only pulsed once. I thought of the silverleaf tree.
Of Emrin’s hand against living bark. Of Vareena asking me to promise I would see her tonight.
Of Kieran’s wrist beneath my shadow. Of my mother’s faceless ghost standing somewhere in these halls before I was born.
My hands curled at my sides. “Tell me about my mother.” The room held its breath. And the Codex opened.
One page. Ink appeared across the parchment, silver-blue and black, each letter burning into existence as if written by an invisible hand:
Finally you ask the right questions. But not all answers are ready to be given.