CHAPTER 10 #3
After putting several more paces between me and that damned hall, I broke into a full run back to our room.
Behind the safety of my locked door, I finally let my guard down.
My hands shook as I pulled out parchment, ink, and quill.
I had not been discovered. Gerta had a chance to stay in the Riht.
All was well—except for a pair of infuriating steel gray eyes that I couldn’t get out of my head.
I cast more than a few sheafs into the fire before I was satisfied.
The letter was equal amounts pleading, persuasive, and logical.
I followed it up with a letter to Merria containing everything I dared encode.
I didn’t know what drove me to do it, but I held back about the First Sun and the mysterious cave.
Instead, I added a coded explanation that I needed more time to complete my journal.
In order for this to work, I’d have to come up with a different plan to get it home, and fast. When I was satisfied, I sealed both and brought them to the small lesson room, where I was meeting Dane for our weekly session.
Voices carried through the door before I entered.
Dane was speaking to someone in Rihtish, but I couldn’t make out what was being said—until I caught my name.
I opened the door.
Wep stood across the room from Dane, arms folded in his favorite position and leveling Dane with a glare that put the ones he gave me to shame. The second he noticed me, his face relaxed, and his arms fell to his sides.
“Daughter,” Dane said, too calm. “Please come in.”
Wep put his hand to his heart, barely nodded his head, and made for the doorway.
“You can stay,” Dane called before he reached the door.
Wep’s eyes met mine in challenge. “I think she’s had enough of me for one day.”
I couldn’t help my smirk, but Wep’s expression did not change. His eyes lingered on my face for just a moment, then they flicked to Dane and hardened. He left, shutting the door behind him.
The desk today was arranged with papers, quills, and ink. Dane motioned to the chairs that were positioned side by side before it.
“Never mind him. Today, we learn the Rihtish script. You’ve had instruction on the lettering used in Inra. No doubt, you’ve also learned to write using the common tongue.”
I nodded and moved to take my seat.
“You’ve been studying our language, and as dana, you’ll need to be able to write letters of your own. We will start with greetings. Watch me.”
Dane dipped his quill and began to write.
From what I’d seen in their books, I expected the script to have the same harsh lines and even strokes.
The flowing script Dane produced was an unexpected delight.
Time flew as I copied each stroke, asking for the next and the next.
Dane indulged me for two hours until he had to leave, but before he did, he stared at my work while smoothing a hand down his loose beard and said, “We may make a dana of you yet.”
Something in me glowed as heat touched my cheeks. I bit back my smile.
That evening, as Gerta paced, I sat at the table with quill and ink, not caring that I was wasting an entire roll of parchment as I practiced. For the first time here, I had found something I could excel at.
THE NEXT morning, I woke from a dream. All I could feel was a nagging pain across my skin.
My hands and forearms stung like a sunburn, but worse.
I threw open the curtains, bristling at the touch of the fabric on my sensitive fingers and squinting against the harsh morning light.
Glancing down, my skin was healthy and unblemished.
In a blink, the pain faded. The room dimmed.
The memory of my dream slipped away, leaving behind a feeling of unease in my chest.
I returned to my bed and sat on the edge of it.
Judging by the bleariness in my head, it was still early, but Gerta was not in her bed.
It was too dark to read my latest book—this one a basic introduction to the Seven Dragons of Jaeda and why the Great Dragon of Life was the strongest. Instead, I rose, dressed, and made my way early toward the training rooms.
That’s when I heard the singing.
The walls were thick and strong, but, like water, sound had a way of seeping through tiny flecks and minuscule cracks.
The voice was neither high nor low, but it was haunting all the same.
I couldn’t help but follow it. I crept down the stairs, with footfalls as soft as I could manage, until I was easing open the door to the large training room.
A lone figure stood, eyes on the ceiling, arms extended to an absent audience.
Their song was building, coming to a climax.
I stood, enrapt by the spell they wove. What was this world I had walked into, where sprites sang to the proverbial rafters in the places where war was taught?
The door creaked behind me as it swung shut, and the music coming from this creature faltered. They spun around, and the entire melody fell away. I frowned. This was no faerie at all, just a person taking advantage of an empty room.
They grinned at me, a sheepish thing. “The acoustics are the best in this room, you know?”
“Oh,” was all I could think to reply. “It was lovely.”
Their hair was a shock of white-blond, cut short and sticking out in all directions. They wore a cream tunic with brown pants, though the pants were more like thick leggings. “I’m Teke, by the way. Well, it’s Antekedora, but everyone just calls me Teke. Bit of a mouthful otherwise.”
“Right. I’m just Serae.”
Teke extended a forearm, which I grasped. It was the first time I’d been greeted as an equal.
“So, you’re the Inraen one, then? What’s it like?”
“Back home? Very different from here. What gave me away?”
Their eyes flicked to my hair. “The language.”
“But you spoke first.”
“Fair enough. Do they really lock women indoors until they’re paraded around to find a mate?”
“Excuse me?” I bristled. I couldn’t help it. I readied my tongue for a better retort when Teke’s grin widened. “Ah, you’re joking.”
“Only half. I did hear that once when I was a youth! But Lex always was a liar.”
“Excuse you, that’s slander, and I won’t have it,” came a voice from behind me.
A man shoved through the doors who could only be described as beautiful.
He had sleek, buttery hair that cascaded down his shoulders and perfectly sculpted eyebrows.
He smiled the grin of a fox and fixed all his attention on me as he purred, “Well, hello, and what do we have here?”
“Keep it in your pants, Lex,” Teke snapped.
“Touchy.” Lex plucked my hand into his own and brought it to his lips. “Ignore them. I’m delighted to meet an absolute treat like you.”
The doors slammed, and I winced, bracing for whatever was coming next. My fears were only slightly assuaged when I turned to find Wep prowling toward us. As always, he was frowning.
“Behave, or you’ll be paired with me for sparring today,” he growled.
Lex dropped my hand with a yip like he’d been stung.
“I see you’ve met two of your ranng,” Wep addressed me directly. “We’re waiting on a few more, then we begin.”
“My rang?” I asked, unable to place the Rihtish word.
“Ranng. There is no word for it in Mayoran. You’ll have to get used to it.
” Wep eyed me, perhaps a moment too long, then added, “A ranng trusts each other above all else. You’ll train with them during your morning sessions, plus private lessons with me when I can spare the time. The rest is for Dane to advise.”
“I don’t understand. Why am I in a ranng at all? Why train with others?” I glanced pointedly at the pair beside me, who had stepped away and begun a stretching dowsa.
“You don’t like them?”
“No, it’s not that. They’re great, I’m sure. But I’m not a warrior.”
“You’re training with me.”
“And you only train warriors?”
“Of course.”
I gasped. “Am I expected to fight in battles?”
Wep appraised me. “You’ll be dana,” he said slowly.
“Oh, this is a knowledge thing. I need to be trained for the position.”
He just shrugged. “Any other complaints?”
I wanted to ask more or to argue, but Wep had crossed to the other end of the room.
Got it. Conversation over.
There was a door on the opposite wall that I hadn’t noticed yesterday.
Wep removed two solid iron beams that were barring the door shut.
He hefted each as if featherlight and set them against the stone wall.
Then, he withdrew a key from somewhere under his shirt—black today—and unlocked the door.
When he pushed it open, sunlight and fresh air spilled into the room.
A hand dropped on my shoulder, making me jump.
“Just me,” said Bracht, warm tone and smiling as always. He must’ve snuck in after Wep. “You’ll be fine. I hope you know that Wep would never put you at risk.”
“Risk?” I echoed, trying to suppress the jittery dread that crawled down my spine. It hadn’t even occurred to me that training with others might create risks.
Bracht’s smile turned into a wince, and he trailed after Wep with a friendly nod.
The remainder of the group gathered in the next few minutes.
I was relieved to learn that there were only six newcomers aside from myself, Wep, and Bracht.
However, my addition left the class uneven for paired sparring, as one short, heavily muscled woman explained to Teke within earshot.
Teke had only shrugged in response, and I decided I liked them already.