Chapter 22 Uncertain Allies
Kierana Tove was a fearsome woman. Wren had not yet determined if having her as an ally was beneficial or detrimental, but it seemed as though she did not have a choice in the matter.
When Kierana walked into a room, people looked away rather than at her.
The respect she commanded reminded Wren of the way men beheld her father.
Others knew what Kierana was capable of, and it made them steer clear.
While Wren enjoyed the breathing room Kierana’s presence brought, she didn’t want her fellow students to find her unapproachable.
That was no way to make connections. Wren would have to make the most of the times Kierana was not around, as the warrior woman had nominated herself guardian of Wren in her brother’s stead.
She sensed no hidden animosity in her new friend, so while she would not immediately drop her guard, she wouldn’t create distance between them either.
Cool mist caressed Wren’s bare arms, making the blonde hairs on her arms rise.
She would need to bring a cloak or wear her long-sleeved uniform tomorrow to protect from the damp, dreary weather.
Her eyes strained to make out her location.
All she could see were shadowy figures and swaying lanterns.
Kierana had told her today was particularly grey, but that not every day was like this.
That did not help Wren in finding her class, though.
She was to report to the Hall of Malis, which she knew the general direction of, but as soon as she had exited the assembly hall, she could scarcely tell down from up on account of the thick fog.
Panic arose as she worried about being tardy.
It would not do to make a poor impression.
Ambassador Westover already thought her too weak to survive.
She could not afford to prove him right on the first day.
“Lost?” a silken voice asked from behind her.
She whipped around, clutching her damp map with cold fingers. Finn smiled down at her. His eyes were like glowing sapphires as he regarded her.
“I’m afraid so,” Wren murmured. “It is quite difficult to make out specific buildings–large as they are–when the entire island is dipped in darkness.”
Finn grinned. Wren felt jovial amusement pour over her like warm water.
“It takes getting used to, that is for certain. Where are you headed? Perhaps we can walk together.”
Wren eyed him. She had told Alysia her itinerary that morning and watched her sit down at Finn and Castien’s table. It was unlikely that she didn’t divulge the information she learned, especially since Kierana called the woman an insatiable gossip.
“To the Hall of Malis,” Wren answered instead of calling out his lie of omission. “My first class is Giftings with Ambassador Westover.”
“How fortunate, so is mine.” He gestured in the direction opposite of where Wren was heading. “Shall we?”
Her skin flushed with embarrassment. “Thank you,” she said quietly and walked alongside him.
“Apart from the cheery weather, how are you finding your time at the academy thus far?” Finn asked.
Wren did her best to remain aware of her surroundings as she walked. Though he was amicable and she felt suspiciously at ease around him, she did not trust that Finn would not lead her into a trap.
“My chambers are comfortable, and the food is delicious. I look forward to spending time in the library,” Wren replied, at a loss for words on how to describe her short spell on the island.
It was not as if she could say she was cataloguing the details of all her interactions in order to create a list of suspects. After all, Finn was on the list, right after his cousin. The journal hidden beneath her floorboards already had pages on each of them.
“And the people?” Finn asked with a teasing smile.
Wren did not take his bait. “I enjoy Kierana’s company.”
He chuckled. “That sentiment is unique to you alone. She is a talented fighter, but not much of a conversationalist.”
Lit windows loomed above as they closed in on what Wren hoped was the Hall of Malis. Finn did not seem to be in any rush, but Wren did not think a man with as many clocks as Ambassador Westover had was forgiving when it came to time.
“If given the choice, I would choose strength of character over wit in my acquaintances."
“How lucky I am to have secured your friendship before you discovered that my wit is my only amiable trait,” Finn said with a wink.
A laugh bubbled out of Wren before she could stop it. There was something about Finn that drew positivity out of her despite the circumstances surrounding them. She had no particular affection for him, but he seemed able to charm her anyway. It was perplexing.
“What makes you think we are friends?” Wren asked as they ascended a stone staircase.
She recognized the ornate doorframe inscribed with ships and crashing waves as the one Ivanhild had led her to on her first day on the island. Finn had led her to the Hall of Malis after all.
“Friends assist one another,” Finn joked and opened the door for her with a grand sweep of his arm.
A blissful warmth chased away the damp cold as she entered. The building was brightly lit with dozens upon dozens of candles and oil lamps burning. Uniformed students milled about the halls, chatting with friends before disappearing behind classroom doors.
Wren looked down at her map. The ink was smudged, and the words blurred from the heavy mist outside.
“The fourth door on the left,” Finn directed her straight ahead.
Wren gave him a sheepish look. “Thank you.”
They walked together. Wren did her best to breathe through the battering emotions of those around her. The longer she was here, the more she’d be able to tamp down her senses, but it would be challenging to focus with them present today.
“And since we are friends.” Finn nudged her shoulder with his.
Her muscles tensed. Though he likely meant nothing by it, she was not accustomed to nor fond of being touched by a man without warning.
“I will offer to help you reach any of your other classes should the weather persist this week,” he finished, unaware of her discomfort.
“I hope to gain my footing rather quickly,” Wren replied as she tried to recenter herself. “But I appreciate your offer.”
Finn opened a door with a gold plaque that read Giftings on it in swirling script. Inside was an array of wood tables, each one had two velvet-backed chairs behind it, most of which were already filled by students. There were only two seats left.
“Lady’s choice,” Finn said as if he did not know which Wren would choose.
At the back of the room, perched like a king on a throne, was Castien.
His dark hair was pushed back from his face today, and he had abandoned his jacket on the back of the chair next to him.
He regarded Wren and Finn’s entrance with an unreadable expression.
The other seat was at the front, closest to Ambassador Westover’s desk, which the man was currently sitting on top of.
Wren did not recognize the student she would be sitting next to, but she could not sit beside Castien all semester.
It would be difficult enough to focus knowing he and Finn were in the room.
She walked to the seat at the front. The ambassador took notice of her, his amber eyes aglow with curiosity.
“Welcome, Lady Kalyxi. I am pleased to have you in my class.”
“Thank you, Ambassador, I am eager to learn,” Wren said, instead of grumbling that he chose for her to be here.
A chime sounded out. There was only one clock in this room, above the chalkboard, and it was positioned at ten in the morning. The ambassador hopped off his desk and locked them all inside.
“Welcome, students, to your first class of the new semester. As I have met all of you, no introduction is needed.”
His grin was wide and his excitement palpable even in the fray of others’ emotions. His charcoal trousers swished as he paced the length of the room. His coat matched and would have made for a subdued ensemble if not for the canary yellow shirt he wore beneath it.
“I am pleased to be teaching on Giftings yet again this semester. For those of you who are second-year students or beyond, rest assured that if you have taken this course in the past, it is different each year. I have taken care to be certain that all of you will benefit individually and as a whole.”
He paused to look over the room. Wren glanced at her tablemate.
The woman had curly blonde hair, but it was a few shades darker than Wren’s and warmer as well.
There were freckles across her nose and cheeks, indicating time spent in the sun.
Her accessories were simple; only a gold locket hung from her neck, and a pale green sash was tied around her waist. The woman’s hands were folded atop a journal open to a blank page, and her nails had dirt under them.
“This year, I have devised a brilliant activity that is sure to abound in creative use of your Giftings and exponential growth!” the ambassador proclaimed. “You will be paired together and work on weekly assignments that will test your intelligence as well as your Gifts.”
Murmurs overtook the classroom. Wren’s tablemate glanced at her. They offered each other timid smiles. Wren was glad she had not decided to attempt boldness to spite Finn and sit next to Castien. That would not have paid off for her.
The ambassador laughed, causing silence to fall.
“How amusing! You think you are working in the pairings you have chosen for yourself.” He shook his head. “No, no, I have carefully selected your partners based on what I know of your strengths, weaknesses, and Gifts.”
Anxiety shot through Wren like a harpoon. She clenched her fists under the table against the uproar of emotion.
Ambassador Westover slid a piece of parchment off his desk and cleared his throat.
“When I announce your pairing, move to sit with your partner. I trust you can all figure out the arrangements necessary to make room.” He held the paper out in front of him. “Ambrosia Whitethorn and Galendor Rowander.”
The woman next to Wren stood at the same time as a man at the table beside them did.
Wren herself stood and swapped with the young man to make room.
She glanced at her new–likely temporary–seatmate.
The woman cut her eyes at Wren. Disdain and contempt billowed off her like smoke.
Wren recalled her at Castien’s table at breakfast that morning, though she did not know her name.
The ambassador continued down his list. Wren had to move seats several more times.
The smaller the selection in the room got, the tighter her chest became.
It was down to four people. Her, Finn, Castien, and Alysia.
She was not fond of any of her options, but if she could avoid the worst of them then she would be able to manage–hopefully.
“Finnick Valengard and Alysia Fairweather,” Ambassador Westover announced, then lowered the paper. Wren’s stomach dropped. “And of course, that leaves Wren Kalyxi and Castien Valengard. Please take your seats.”
Wren felt as though she was wading through water as she switched seats with a smirking Finn. She set her bag on the table and Castien snatched away his jacket before she sat down. Neither of them looked at one another.
“Now that we are all settled, I will begin with your first assignment: introductory essays.”