CHAPTER 22 #3
“Only because your powers must grow. It is not yet time for my kind to wake.”
I sighed and tossed the letter aside. It would have to be a decision for another day.
A knock at my door sounded, then Callagh hurried in with two plates of berry tart. She glowed with bright olive green. Eagerness. I hadn’t realized I’d opened my second sight.
“Just me, and I brought dessert. How was it?” She glanced down at the letter, then set the tray atop it.
“Every letter from my sister is a headache.”
Her tinkling laugh rang out. She sat down in the chair opposite me and pulled a plate toward herself. “No, silly, your day with Wep! Did you figure out your blessings?”
I narrowed my eyes. “He told you?”
Her lifelight dimmed. “Of course not. I, uh, talked to Bracht for a while.” Her cheeks flushed.
“Did you, now? That’s a story I’m much more interested in hearing.”
She giggled, blushed even harder, then told of the day they spent strolling through the forest picking berries and trading stories about life as reálti.
“All good things, I promise!” As she talked, I did my best to keep a true smile on my face.
Hers was turning into a perfect love story, and she glowed brighter and brighter with yellows and golds in rapid succession.
Fondness, affection, caring, desire. From what she described, and the extra little things I picked up on, Bracht was a perfect match for her. I ignored my aching, jealous heart.
When the subject was well and truly spent, she turned back to me with guarded eyes. “Was today no good for you?”
I sighed and took a bite of my tart. “No luck today.”
Her smile morphed into one with a bit too much understanding. “Give it time.”
THE FOLLOWING days of that week found me in constant proximity to Wep.
We completed the array of weapons testing, then we eliminated all manner of jumping, twirling, and whatever else Wep could dream up.
I half suspected he put me through it all just to make sure I knew how incompetent I was next to him. Trust me, I knew.
At first, each failed test was a small victory, but I had underestimated Wep’s thoroughness.
For every one crossed off the list, he added three more, many of which involved my sight in one way or another.
Keeping track of what might reveal my heightened senses wore me down, as did the little frowns that tugged at his mouth when I intentionally underperformed.
Even more pressing, I’d started shedding small yellow petals that dried as they fell to the floor.
“Make it stop!” I begged Vaya’la.
“I cannot stop what you create.”
“What can I do to stop creating them?”
“You’ve gone too long storing up my magic. Stay calm, and you won’t bleed out the excess lifeforce.”
“That’s a bit hard right now.”
“Well, by all means, tell your weaponmaster and be rid of this nonsense so we can work on expanding what you actually need to know.”
Absolutely not. Instead, I practiced steady breathing for the rest of the session, but that didn’t stop Wep from glancing more than once at the crushed petals, both of our boots, and the barred outer door.
After a while, we ventured out into Drakh again to see what other skills might call to me.
I only agreed after extracting a solemn vow that we’d return to the bun cart.
I finally learned they were called babi, and burn me if that wasn’t the most beautiful word I’d ever heard.
We visited a metalsmith as well as a blacksmith, a clothier, three different bakeries—besides the bun cart—a jeweler, and some sort of perfume shop filled with hundreds of little bottles, where I almost vomited from the onslaught of scents.
“Has your sense of smell changed along with your eyesight?”
“No,” I said, still gagging. At that, he eyed me closely and made a lot of notes. I begrudgingly conceded a point to him.
Then, we visited what Wep called a companion shop.
Inside, there were caged rabbits, birds, cats, and even snakes.
The owner demonstrated which pets we could hold and how.
She was rather put off when he said we weren’t here to buy anything.
As I looked, my eyes refocused, and I saw each animal as they truly were.
They glowed with inner lights, and instinctively, I understood them.
They spoke no words. It was nothing like my connection with Vaya’la.
Still, I could tell by looking at the rabbits that they were hungry and hadn’t yet been fed.
The snake was sleepy and did not appreciate being handled by the owner.
The birds were all restless and wanting to fly, except one large bird that sat in the open, strapped to a perch. The poor thing radiated misery.
“That one,” I blurted.
Wep’s head snapped to me.
“I want that one,” I repeated.
The owner perked right up, then she saw the bird I was indicating. “Oh, that old thing? He’s a sourpuss. I have lots of lovely songbirds over here.”
“No, I want him.”
“We’re not here to buy.” Wep was at my side, his fingers barely grazing my forearm. My skin exploded into tingles, and I shifted toward him.
Our eyes met.
He hesitated, his hand now loosely grasping my arm. He seemed inclined to pull me in closer, and an impractical, stupid part of me wished he would. In the middle of the shop. With the owner eyeing us closely.
“Please,” I whispered.
He cleared his throat. “How much?” he asked, eyes still searching mine. After a moment with no response, he stepped back, glared at the owner, and repeated, “How much?”
“Oh! If you’re sure…”
We both nodded.
“Three hundred scale.”
Wep scoffed. “You really want this one?”
I’d seen plenty of haggling in the markets to catch on to what Wep was doing, but the few things I’d bought with Callagh had been billed to Dane without discussion of price.
I had no idea if this was an outrageous sum or not.
I looked at the bird, who turned away from me.
“No, just leave him. It’s not like she’ll ever sell him. ”
“Two-fifty scale,” the owner called out.
I turned to leave, knowing the bird would be there tomorrow to try again.
“One-fifty. It’s the lowest I can do. Any lower, and I’ll be at a loss.”
This time, Wep nodded. “I’ll send a runner today with the scale and a cage to collect him.”
“Absolutely, Marr Wep.”
“We’re not taking him now?”
Wep eyed me again, a flat look on his face. His lifelight flashed plum. Irritation. “You want to carry him around with you? What, on your shoulder?”
“Why not?”
“He won’t perch there,” the owner interrupted. “He doesn’t like people.” She grimaced at the admission.
“He’ll be fine,” I said with a confidence that I didn’t feel. I shrugged on my coat, which I’d been holding as we walked in the afternoon sun.
She muttered something like, “On your own hide be it,” and untied the bird.
His eyes opened fully for the first time.
I nodded to him, hoping he could understand my intentions.
I jerked my head toward the door for good measure.
This way, I thought desperately. He bobbed his little black head and flew to my shoulder.
For a moment, pride bloomed in my chest, and my own lifelight danced with juniper.
His wings stuttered through the short flight, barely making it, eclipsing our moment of triumph.
“His wings are clipped,” I gasped.
“Yes, of course.” The owner smiled.
I frowned, opened my mouth to give her a piece of my mind, but this time, Wep gripped my arm firmly.
“We’ll be off. Look for Anbrachten before the end of the day. Dragon’s blessings on you.”
At this, the owner preened and offered many thanks and well wishes as Wep shoved me bodily, bird and all, out the door. He turned a corner, tugging me along. The bird squawked in my ear, nearly bursting the drum, and dug its talons into my shoulder.
“Slow down, you maniac!”
“Can’t.”
He tugged me again. The bird gripped tighter, and I yelped. It might have punctured the coat’s leather that time. At that, he glanced back at me, then my shoulder, then sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Just move quickly.”
Wep released me, and I hurried after him. Within minutes, we emerged into a clearing just beyond the castle walls, inside the lower city.
“Where are we?”
“It’s a park.”
“A park?” I gawked.
“Never heard of a park before?” The drawl in his voice was grating.
“You’re in rare form today. Of course, I’ve heard of a park. I’ve just never seen one so…wild.”
This piqued his interest. “What are parks like in Cavendaffe?”
I began to walk a slow circle around the clearing. “Well, manicured, I suppose. Paths for walking, benches for sitting.”
“So, a garden.”
I ignored the irk in his tone. “No, no crops.” Completing the circle, I spun in place, taking in the sheer variety of trees lining this little haven. Rough paths intersected them that I imagined led to other hidden secrets just waiting for me to peruse.
There were no benches, so Wep seated himself right on the grass. He shrugged out of his coat and leaned back on one forearm. Opening his ledger, he unwrapped a piece of hard charcoal from a pocket I hadn’t even known existed in his shirt and looked up at me.
“Why the bird?”
“Martyrs’ flaming bones, do we have to?”
His eyes said, obviously, even though his mouth remained shut.
“Fine.” I plopped down on the grass away from him. If we were really doing this, I might as well get comfortable. “It looked sad and lonely.”
“Remind me not to bring you to the orphanage,” he muttered.
“What!”
“I said, they all did. Why this bird?”
“I don’t know. He just called to me.”
Wep scribbled some notes. “When you say called—”
“No, not actually called. I just looked at this bird, saw he was miserable, and knew I had to help him.”
“I see.”
Glad that made one of us. I waited while he finished his next notes. “So, is that it?” I asked when he looked at me. “My blessing is a dumb pseudo-connection with this bird?”