Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty Two
The bonding chambers were tucked into Vallemont’s lower levels, each one a small sanctuary of stone and soft light designed to foster the delicate connection between tamer and beast. Cassara sat cross-legged on the moss-cushioned floor, watching her creature with mounting frustration.
It had been an hour. One hour of trying to establish the most basic communication, and what did she have to show for it?
A small, silver-furred menace that was currently batting at dust motes like they were the most fascinating things in existence.
“Focus,” she said quietly, trying to project calm authority. “We need to work on synchronization.”
The creature paused mid-swipe, tilted his head at her with those impossibly large eyes, then promptly scampered up to the nearest wall to investigate a crack in the stonework.
Cassara pressed her palms against her temples. Through the walls, she could hear muffled sounds from the neighboring chambers. Soft laughter from one direction. The rhythmic thud of coordinated movement from another. Success. Progress. Everything she wasn’t achieving.
A gentle knock on her door made her straighten. She quickly pressed her palm to the Aether Shard at her throat, recalling the creature in a flash of silver light just as it was mid-pounce toward a spider.
“Come in.”
Liri peeked inside, her face glowing with exhaustion and joy. “How’s it going?”
Cassara glanced around the now-empty chamber. “Wonderfully. How about you?”
“Oh, Cass, it’s incredible!” Liri’s eyes sparkled as she stepped into the chamber. “I can’t show you yet, obviously, but when I laugh? She sings. Sings! This beautiful, haunting melody that makes my heart feel like it might burst.”
Cassara’s smile felt brittle. “That sounds amazing.”
Liri bounced slightly on her toes. “What about yours? Any breakthroughs?”
“We’re taking things slowly,” Cassara said, her hand unconsciously drifting to the shard where she could feel the creature’s presence, mercifully quiet for once. “Building trust.”
“That’s wise. Gideon mentioned his took a while to warm up too, but now they’ve found their rhythm.” Liri’s expression softened. “You look tired. Are you getting enough sleep?”
“I’m fine.”
Liri didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t push. “Well, I should get back. We’re working on something called harmonic resonance. I have no idea what that means, but it sounds important.”
After Liri left, Cassara waited a full minute before pressing her palm to the Aether Shard again. Silver light spilled from the crystal, coalescing into the familiar small form of her creature.
He materialized in the exact same position he had been in when she’d recalled it mid-pounce, tiny paws stretched toward where the spider had been. Finding nothing there, he landed with a confused chirp and looked around the chamber as if wondering where his prey had gone.
“The spider left,” Cassara said flatly.
Why?
The question caught her by surprise. It was the first time the creature had spoken to her since they’d returned from the Wildes.
He tilted his head at her, ears twitching, then padded over to investigate the spot where Liri had been standing. He sniffed delicately at the air, nose wrinkling.
She smells happy, came the soft whisper in her mind. Why don’t you smell happy?
Cassara stared at him. “Did you just… analyze her emotional state through scent?”
The creature blinked at her with those impossibly large eyes, tail swishing uncertainly. Was I not supposed to?
For a moment, Cassara felt a flicker of intrigue. An empathic creature that could read emotional states could actually be useful in certain situations. Strategic, even.
Then the creature spotted another dust mote floating in a shaft of sunlight and immediately forgot she existed, leaping after it with renewed enthusiasm.
The flicker of hope died as quickly as it had come.
“Focus,” she said, more to herself than to the creature. “We need to work on basic commands.”
But even as she opened the bonding manual again, she couldn’t quite forget that moment of unexpected insight. Or the fact that it had been right, Liri had smelled happy. She had been happy. Radiantly, obviously happy.
Unlike herself.
The next morning brought no improvement.
If anything, her creature seemed more distracted than ever, and somehow, impossibly, kept escaping the Aether Shard without her permission.
The first time it happened, Cassara had been reviewing tactical formations in the library when she felt the telltale warmth of materialization. She looked down to find him curled up in her lap, tiny paws tucked beneath its chin, fast asleep.
“How did you get out?” she hissed, quickly scooping him up and glancing around the library. Thankfully, the section she’d chosen was deserted.
He blinked at her sleepily and gave a soft chirp, as if this were perfectly normal behavior.
The second time she’d been walking to her afternoon lecture when she felt that familiar flutter of presence.
She spun around to find him batting at flower petals that were drifting down from the academy’s garden terraces, completely oblivious to the fact that half a dozen students could see it if they just looked down.
She’d barely managed to recall it before a second year named Randall rounded the corner.
Cassara was hurrying away from the gardens when she nearly collided with someone rounding the corner.
“Careful there.”
Auren’s hands came up to steady her, and for a moment she was close enough to catch the familiar scent of leather and chalk dust. Her pulse jumped at the contact—or maybe it was still racing from nearly being discovered.
“Instructor Veth,” she said, stepping back quickly. “My apologies.”
Something flickered in his eyes, confusion, perhaps, at the formal address. “Cassara, are you-”
“I’m fine. Just late for my next class.” She clutched her books tighter, using them as a shield. “If you’ll excuse me.”
She moved to step around him, but he shifted slightly, not blocking her path but clearly wanting to continue the conversation.
“You’ve seemed distracted lately,” he said. “If there’s anything—”
“Everything is perfectly fine, Instructor.” The title felt like glass on her tongue. “I should go.”
This time she didn’t wait for a response, walking briskly down the corridor without looking back. She could feel his gaze following her, and could practically sense his confusion at her sudden coldness.
It wasn’t until she was safely around the next corner that she realized her hands were trembling.
She hated it. The confusion in his eyes, the careful distance she’d forced between them, it felt wrong. Everything about this situation felt wrong. But it also felt necessary.
She was still replaying the conversation in her mind when she felt it again, the subtle shift in the air that meant her creature had somehow freed itself from the Aether Shard.
Again.
“Damn it,” she grumbled, spinning around in the corridor. Where was he this time?
She hurried toward her dormitory, checking every alcove and shadow along the way. Other students passed her with curious glances as she peered under benches and behind tapestries, but she was beyond caring about appearances.
She finally found him in the dormitory common area, somehow wedged upside down in one of the shoe cubbies near the entrance, looking perfectly content.
“You can’t keep doing this,” she said, scooping him up and retreating quickly to her room before anyone could see. Her hands were still shaking, from the Auren encounter, from the constant fear of discovery, from everything.
She held it at eye level once her door was safely closed. “Someone is going to see you.”
He tilted his head, ears drooping slightly. But I get lonely.
The simple admission hit her harder than she’d expected. She set him down on her desk with perhaps more gentleness than strictly necessary.
“We have scheduled bonding time,” she said firmly. “You need to stay in the shard until then.”
Why do you hate me?
There it was again. That soft, uncertain question that made her chest tighten with guilt she had no business feeling.
She didn’t answer. How could she explain that she didn’t hate him, exactly?
That her frustration had nothing to do with what he was and everything to do with what it represented?
Every mocking smile Verena might wear. Every expectation her father would wield like a blade.
Every whispered conversation about how the great Cassara Allencourt had managed to bond with something so… ordinary.
Why are you so sad?
The second question was worse than the first. Not accusatory or confused, but genuinely concerned. As if this tiny, escape-artist of a creature actually cared about her emotional state.
Cassara shoved the thought away with such force that her shard pulsed hot at her throat, the connection fraying for a breath before settling again.
The creature flinched, ears flattening against his head. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you angry.
“I’m not angry,” she said quietly, though they both knew it was a lie. “I’m just… we need to work on staying put.”
She reached for the shard to recall him, but the creature had already padded over to her pen case, investigating it with the same curiosity he showed everything else. When he looked back at her, there was something almost hopeful in those too-large eyes.
Can we practice now? I want to learn.
Despite everything, Cassara felt her expression soften slightly. He wasn’t malicious. He just didn’t understand. And the worst part was… he wanted to.
“Fine,” she said. “But this time, you have to actually listen.”
The creature’s entire body seemed to perk up, tail swishing with what could only be described as excitement.
Ten minutes later, she found him hanging upside down from her curtain rod, having apparently decided that was the most comfortable position from which to watch her demonstrate basic commands.