Chapter 35 #2
“What did you do?” Kyra asks, looking around at us all and where the horses now stand.
“I made us invisible.”
“Wait, if you can—” Calix starts, but I interrupt him.
“Then maybe I can use any of the other gifts we found when we were training.” It’s a viable theory now I’m back in Kirrasia.
“You can do that? Pull magic from the air without touch?” Kyra asks, disbelief tainting her words.
All Kirrians can use their core magic without touch. But that isn’t the source of their greatest strength. Touch provides possibility, opportunity, and new gifts. That’s what makes the magic so special.
“I’m not ready to risk touch with my power right now, Kyra.” I look at Ten, though, as it’s his touch, our connection, that I’m most worried about. His jaw is locked, and I can already sense his unease.
It’s the first time that Lyle’s seen me use magic, and she has a similar look on her face to the one I remember having when I watched her throw a ball of light from her hand.
Stars, that was a lifetime ago.
“How long can you keep us covered?” Calix asks.
“No idea. Never done this.”
“But you can feel your power, your magic? It isn’t exhaustive?” Kyra checks.
“It doesn’t feel the same as it did before, Kyra.
It’s like, this is a new part of my magic.
The old part is still missing in a way. This…
it’s easier. Like it wants to please me.
” As though it wants to be set loose, but I don’t voice that part.
“All that time training and complaining about not being shown how to wield or use my power, well, that’s gone. ”
“What do you mean?” Kalan asks.
“Before, things would happen without me knowing what I needed. It would respond, like when I drained Calix by just touching him. But now, my magic wants to work with me, answering my instinct. I don’t know, but it’s as if there’s a different part of it now, that’s the easiest way to explain it.”
“And we’re all invisible?”
“I hope so, or we’ll be in for company pretty soon.” I look out, but don’t see any movement or change from the rows of tents and figures in black.
“Okay. New plan. I can walk out there and speak to my father. Kyra, too.”
“Not Kyra. I need her to take me to the Maker. Ten goes with you. We can all go as far as we can, together under my magic, behind Calix. Once he has spoken to his father, or guards or whatever, Ten can reveal himself. Then, the rest of us can still head to The Court with nobody the wiser.”
“I don’t like the thought of splitting up,” Ten adds.
“It was you who first suggested it. We’ll be fine. Lyle and Kalan will be with me, too. You’ve been banished, so you have the more dangerous path. Please, Ten. You wanted to do this for Calix. I will be fine. You need him.”
He nods and turns away.
“Let’s go,” Kalan commands.
I watch as Calix walks forward. To start with, I keep my power over him, learning how far it can cover and bend.
A few feet, a few more. It doesn’t lessen, it doesn’t tire, like before in practice.
It’s closer to how it felt in the forest, when Ravi and I made it rain.
Finally, I pull it back, and I watch as the glittery golden strands recede, and let Calix walk out from my cover to face the Warriors.
Ten stays under my protection, at least until we understand what sort of reception he’ll get.
There are shouts, before movement, black shapes of people amongst the tented blockages rushing about. And then a group of Warriors, who must be gifted with speed, are right in front of Calix.
They talk. Calix takes charge, and he doesn’t even glance back as he leads the Warriors back to their lines.
We follow carefully, and I bend my power around us so we can walk through the camps. Swathes of red, line after line, with Warriors in their full leather uniform, are everywhere. But among them, a few other colours. Purple and a few blue and green.
“Why are there so many other Orders here?”
“Either a Triune, or a gifted group used for a particular combined strength.” Ten answers. “That’s not unusual. But it’s been years since this many Warriors were all in one place.”
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“I don’t know. But something is. It doesn’t fit together, and it’s not the play my father would take. He’s too prepared to put all his Warriors in one position. They’d be vulnerable.”
I watch Ten as he worries over the problem.
“They’ve drawn back to a narrow position. They’re counting on the river and the natural defence of The Court. But everyone’s just waiting. This isn’t a strategic play,” he murmurs, still working it through.
There’s a larger tent ahead, stationed with other officers and more Warriors than any of the others, and we all assume this is where General Aster is.
Calix doesn’t miss a beat and walks right into the tent.
A moment later, everyone who was inside leaves, a stream of Warrior officers exiting. And then Calix jerks his head to the side.
Ten looks at me, then to his friend, and back. Then nods to me and strides forward to meet his friend. I keep the cloak over him until he’s clear of the threshold, and then I pull it back.
I wait for a moment. Another. But there’s no sign of alarm.
“Come on. Kyra, our turn.” I nod to her, forcing my eyes from the tent.
She picks her way through the remaining Warriors, carving a single-file path through the fray.
We make it to the small bridge that signals the only passing place over the river.
Instead of the Triune that usually patrols, there are at least four times that many blocking any entry, and not just Warriors.
Guards, too, their bright purple flare stark in contrast to the daunting black.
Even if we pass the Triunes stationed before the bridge, six people stand in a line, spanning the full width. We won’t slip past them unless one of them moves.
We take a wide berth, approaching from the bank, and wait. For what, I’m not sure, but my heartbeat is impatient for something to happen.
“Time to hold your breath.” Kalan shifts before taking a hesitant step forward.
It’s the first and only time I’ve seen him waver.
But he retreats and looks at the edge of the bank and the river.
I don’t understand his movements until he picks up a large rock, twice the size of a fist. He beckons us behind him and puts up his fingers, starting a countdown on them.
Kyra and I look at each other, and Lyle nods.
As he drops the final finger, he throws the rock to the right side of the bridge, and it splashes into the water.
We all watch, waiting for the distraction to take hold, and one of the Warriors breaks formation, only just, but it gives us the breathing room to creep through the gap a little less hounded.
I hold my breath and place each step with careful precision as I pass, not stopping until my feet are safely off the stone of the bridge.
We all make it over and past the line before the Warrior shifts back, sealing the way. My eyes close in a silent thank you to Aslendrix, and as soon as I have them open, Kalan chops his hand through the air, signalling the direction he wants us to go.
We’re not finished yet.
As we walk towards The Court, the colour and wonder I saw in Kirrasia in abundance when I first arrived wakes up my senses.
It was overwhelming, beautiful even, when I first saw it. The visions before me were so breathtaking that it was hard to take them all in.
Since then, I’ve seen things I’d rather erase from my memory, but the sight of The Court, the Mountains rising behind it, the tapestry of bright colours all around, from the greens of the forest to the snow-capped peaks, still gives me pause.
Lyle’s hand sneaks around mine, and she gives it a little squeeze as she passes, a fleeting gesture, as she continues. Side by side with me.
As we continue, the similarities between my first visit and now fade.
Where there was an energy and rhythm to the trades and stalls spilling out of The Court, as if it couldn’t be contained, now, there is a barren and empty space, absent of life.
No chatter. No noise. Empty stalls, and few people.
The path through the winding street and past the dwellings and houses to The Tower is vacant, and with every step, the unrest grows within me, a quiver of anticipation knotting in the pit of my stomach.
Kyra looks back, questions marring her face.
“What is it?” I whisper.
“I… want to see my parents. To make sure they’re safe.”
“The Maker first. Then you can do what you want,” Kalan replies.
“Hey!” I protest.
“I know my part, Kalan. It doesn’t lessen my concern, though,” she states defiantly.
She turns to me, and I nod, only mustering a weak smile.
She has been missing from them for weeks, so soon after Micah, and her worry is sound.
We keep to the plan until we arrive outside the Tower, where Kyra will leave us.
She steps away from us, but I keep her under my cover, easily pushing the veil of magic over her, until she’s all the way inside the entrance. Not the main door that I’ve always gone through, but a smaller, side door. A door that nobody is meant to notice.
And then we wait.