Lady of Stone, page 10
“Oh.” He sagged a bit, then shrugged, dark eyes twinkling. “He’ll hear soon. With all the commotion, every student will no doubt be poking their head out.” He smiled wider, someone with news and desperate to be the first to share it with the higher-ups.
“Huh?” Thana managed, her body slowly returning to normal now that she knew they weren’t caught, though he’d spot the damaged door if he looked closely. She cleared her throat. If this teacher had something to share, maybe he’d settle for telling them, and they could slip away. “C…commotion?”
He brightened even more. “Come see!” He turned and led the way into the hall.
Sylph muttered, “He’s too trusting,” and followed. Thana stumbled on her heels, wanting to argue that this wasn’t the palace, that they were all friends here, but in the current climate, maybe Sylph was right.
“It’s a new shipment of the crystal, just a small one,” the teacher said as he led the way. He winked and laid a finger against his nose. “But mum’s still the word and all that.”
Who exactly where they keeping mum from? But Thana couldn’t ask that. Still, her curiosity won out over her awkwardness. “Shipment from, um, the same place as before?”
“Yes, the mountains to the northeast. A safer source than Allusia, as they say. I hope they have enough for everyone to try one now.”
Thana frowned and fought down a million questions. A new source of crystal? Why hadn’t she heard about this? The headmaster wasn’t supposed to be scouting sources of crystal on his own. He should have at least told the monarch’s spirits-cursed pyradisté.
People were starting to filter into the halls and staircase, but the teacher pushed through. “They say they’ll have a bigger shipment soon, once they get the route sorted out.”
Thana’s face was starting to ache from frowning. She hadn’t heard of any of this, and if Earnhilt or Gunnar had, they would have mentioned it. What in the spirits’ names was going on? This teacher obviously hadn’t taken a good look at her, or he would have noticed the purple piping on her cassock, the sign of her position. Even if he had, no doubt he’d assume she knew all this. Maybe he was just happy someone was listening to him.
But Headmaster Cyrus had deliberately left her in the dark. That was the only conclusion she could reach. This teacher wasn’t the only one who’d been too trusting.
The sounds of banging and swearing filtered through the large room downstairs. Thana paused by the huge pyramid and looked down the wide hall that led toward the back doors. She craned her neck to see over the crowd. Cyrus would no doubt appear soon, and Thana could ask all her questions, time be cursed.
But Sylph grabbed her arm. She’d gone pale, her lips mashed together until they were as bloodless as in Thana’s vision of her corpse. “Something’s wrong.”
Thana’s heart rate picked up again. “What is it?”
Sylph groaned, and light blazed from the huge pyramid behind them. A kaleidoscope of color shone through the halls, and people cried out in surprise and wonder. Sylph’s power. Her grip tightened. “Thana, I don’t know if I can hold on,” she said, eyes unblinking. Sweat broke out on her forehead as if someone had splashed her.
Thana’s fear had her moving almost before she realized it. She yanked Sylph toward the doors. “Move!” she shouted to the throng. She shoved people aside and nearly dragged Sylph toward the door. Plaster rained from the ceiling as the building began to shake. A few people fell on the staircase. More began to scream. Thana shook Sylph’s arm. “No! Do not retune that pyramid, Sylph. Fight it.” She clenched a fist, tempted to strike her, but that might make her lose control completely. “You have to fight.”
“Trying.”
But there had to be so many pyramids here and now this new crystal. The bricks near the door shuddered, twisting slightly. Thana charged through the door. “Focus on me. You can do it. Just breathe.” She met Sylph’s eyes until their breathing matched. “That’s it. You can do it. If it’s too much, focus on the big light pyramid. Just make it shine. That’s all. Nothing else. Just light.”
“Just light,” Sylph whispered. A few other people ran out around them, crying out to each other or just calling in fear as the rumble in the ground slowed. “It’s just light.”
Thana tried to reach for the light pyramid, too, but didn’t know how when she couldn’t touch it. When her mind fell into the facets of a pyramid that now stood behind a closed door, she nearly stumbled in surprise. She’d used this one before, of course, every pyradisté had, and it surrounded her now so she could barely see where to put her feet. “Feel my mind in with yours?”
“Yes,” Sylph whispered, and there she was, her presence in the pyramid like another shining light, but one that sought to stretch forth, no doubt to touch all the pyramids and reshape them, to bring in the raw power of the new crystal, to make the city fall. “It hurts.”
“I’m sure.” Trying to touch so many pyramids and raw crystal, it had to feel like she was being torn apart. “Stay with me. Follow me.” In the street, she guided Sylph toward the horses as she sent her power through the myriad facets of the light pyramid.
Sylph’s bright light followed her mind just as their bodies stayed together in the street. Thana had used pyramids with others before but not as if she was playing some odd game of tag. The ground ceased to rumble, but Thana kept her concentration. “Stay with me.”
“I am. I’m scared.” Her voice was high, almost childlike.
Thana squeezed her arm. “It’s all right. I have you.” But they couldn’t stay like this. They had to get away from the academy, and Thana didn’t know how long she could keep her focus. Sylph’s reach was undoubtedly greater than hers. Would she continue to hold on to the pyramid after they left?
When they reached the horses, Thana dug in her borrowed satchel, fumbling over the pyramids as her mind tried to be in two places at once. Her control on the large pyramid slipped, but just as Sylph gasped, Thana pulled a light pyramid and fell into it. “Here, Sylph, follow me here.”
Her gaze snapped to the small pyramid in Thana’s hand, and Thana felt her focus shift as if it was a tangible thing. By the spirits, she was strong. Thana’s jealousy was nearly swamped in awe and fear and pity. Her pyramid blazed, shifting through radiant colors as if it was all the world’s jewels combined. It was beautiful, but more than that, Thana could now function. She helped Sylph mount her horse, then climbed on her own. She kept up a soothing litany of nonsense even as her mind wanted to panic and run. With both horses under her control, it was slow going until they were a few streets away, and Thana didn’t feel Sylph’s power reaching for something else to control.
“It’s okay.” Thana had hidden the light pyramid in her cassock, but she glimpsed the light peeping out everywhere, as if she’d swallowed a star. “You can let go. Come with me. Come out.” She let her mind slip slowly from the pyramid, and Sylph followed like a moth, but this one running from the flame.
They released it at the same time, and Sylph sagged in the saddle, sighing, her eyes slipping closed. When she opened them, tears filled her lashes and spilled down her face.
“It’s all right,” Thana said, amazed she could still feel anything after all the turns her emotions had taken, but she managed relief. “Everything’s fine now.”
Sylph breathed a laugh that had no humor. She wiped at her cheeks hurriedly. “Thank you.”
“Of course.” Thana looked away, awkward.
Sylph took back her reins, and her touch lingered on Thana’s hand. “No, please. You have to hear me…to know that I mean it. You stopped me from hurting anyone, and you didn’t hurt me to do it. Thank you.”
When Thana looked at her again, she had a grateful smile, and Thana wanted to be embarrassed, wanted to say that it was all right or that it was nothing really or that anyone would have done the same, but none of those responses seemed to fit. If they’d been standing, she would have embraced Sylph, and that surprised her nearly as much as Sylph’s entreaty. “I do hear you. And you’re welcome. Truly.” She led the way again. Maybe her pride would keep the fear and anger at bay for a while.
* * *
They rode from the city and entered the forest surrounding Marienne, and the trees offered a cool stillness that seemed perfect for calming runaway emotions. Sylph pressed a hand to her fluttering stomach. All the myriad feelings she’d experienced since she’d met Thana paled when compared to now. She was grateful and tried to focus on that, but underneath was a mélange of terror and confusion that made her ache for the safety of home. After all that had happened, she craved a life laid out for her in neat little rows. Her excitement at the prospect of freedom had been nothing but a moment of foolishness. Her freedom meant danger for others. It was only dumb luck that she hadn’t yet killed anyone.
Maybe the queen was right. Maybe the pyradistés should be confined until this magical mess could be cleared. Maybe it was better if some were dead.
“Pyradistés are as dangerous as everyone says.” She didn’t know she’d meant to say it aloud until it happened, but when Thana turned thunderous eyes upon her, she couldn’t take it back. She even added, “The queen was right.”
“How can you even think such a thing?” Thana said, her voice low and gravelly, as if emotion choked her.
Tremors started in Sylph’s core, passing all through her. She felt tears gathering again, but she dug her nails into one hand and pointed at Marienne with the other. “How many people could I have killed, including both of us? And this new crystal the teacher spoke of? I saw your face. You didn’t know what he was talking about. Do you even understand what any new crystal can do, how it works? Do they? Or are they just playing with danger?” She stiffened in the face of Thana’s anger and pulled her horse to a stop. “You’re the monarch’s pyradisté. They should have consulted you, consulted the queen, before doing anything.”
Thana sneered and groaned, rolling her eyes so hard, they seemed to turn her head with them. “Did you know that pyradistés are the only group in Farraday without autonomy? The nobles and chapterhouses and merchant guilds don’t have to consult the crown for every decision.”
“They can’t kill people so easily.”
“A blade can kill as easily as a pyramid.”
Thana’s cheeks grew red, and she was breathing hard, her eyes shining with outrage and conviction. And also fear. Sylph forced herself to calm and bring her court mask to bear, not yet willing to leave everything from her old life behind. “People rarely lose control of a blade and kill without meaning to.”
Thana leaned back and sneered. “The only one out of control is you.”
Hurt replaced anger, the emotions clashing against one another so harshly, Sylph wondered that she couldn’t hear them. Only a flex of will kept her court mask from slipping.
Thana looked away, her frown easing as if she realized that what she’d said wasn’t fair or true, but she didn’t take back the words.
“There are…” Sylph cleared her throat and started again. “From the rumors, I’m not the only one.”
Thana wouldn’t meet her eyes. “At least the others had their own pyramids. They didn’t go lashing out for any old pyramid lying around.”
The hurt spread as if she’d come too near a fire. She remembered the heat of the blaze in the castle, the quaking in the academy. Yes, no one had been as great a menace as her. “You should have let the queen kill me.” The words reminded her of petulance, but she only felt truth in them.
“Don’t be stupid.” Those words weren’t said with malice or recrimination. They were soft, apologetic, Thana’s feelings as free as air. “I wouldn’t be helping you if I thought any of this was your fault. Just like with every rumor, you weren’t in control.” She sighed. “And I was wrong. You aren’t the only one lashing out, or pyramids wouldn’t be randomly exploding.”
“Quite,” Sylph said, taking a little comfort in that. And in the fact that Thana didn’t seem angry anymore. She hadn’t truly apologized, but maybe that was where she faltered as Sylph faltered with…every emotion.
“And it doesn’t happen to you all the time,” Thana said almost cheerfully. “I’m sitting here with a satchel of pyramids, and nothing’s on fire.” After a wince, she smiled, seemingly committed to a facade of happiness.
“Yes.” Sylph tried to smile for her sake, but she didn’t want to be happy or calm. She wanted to run off in any direction, to ride until the emotions blew away from her.
Leading the way deeper into the woods, Thana said, “Tell me about what happened in the academy, what you felt.”
Sylph wanted to say, terrified, but that wasn’t what Thana was asking. She made herself think about the incident as if she were an outsider, a mere spectator, untouched by the experience. “As when I first discovered this power and in the garden, I felt pulled, compelled to reach for the magic wherever it lay.”
“Hmm. Might have been proximity to this new crystal. But why would that have been near your home or in the garden? I suppose someone could have been carrying the crystal near your home up north, but there’s no road near the garden.”
“Perhaps then, whoever was carrying the crystal didn’t want anyone to see them and sought out a clandestine avenue.”
Thana grinned over her shoulder. “If you’re thinking out loud with me, does that mean you’ve given up the notion of turning yourself in? Is that because it’s a mystery that needs solving?”
A mystery? Sylph supposed it was. And though they held no particular allure for her, solving this one might mean fewer incidents and lessen the chance of deaths. “I’ll help.” After the destruction she’d caused, it seemed the least she could do.
And then, perhaps she could leave all pyramid magic behind.
“But are you sure you want my help?” she called when Thana turned back. “I’m a liability.”
“No, you’re my crystal detector, if the crystal is indeed the problem. And if you’re worried about hurting people, you need to learn control, and I can continue to teach you.” She turned in profile, and her cheek was pink. “And you don’t deserve to be hurt either.”
Sylph smiled, her chest warming for a different reason. Strange how different feelings caused similar reactions in her insides, but she could tell the difference. And Thana seemed to be making up for her harsh words, very touching. Sylph was still frightened, but being afraid with someone felt so much better than being afraid and alone. She’d gone through a fear of the dark and all its terrors as a child, and that by herself, after her father instructed her maids not to “coddle” her. Yes, having someone was better.
Again, she tried to say thank you, but Thana deserved more. As they reached a clearer track, she nudged her horse abreast with Thana’s. “I appreciate you.” No, that was just another thank you. “It’s very good of you.” That didn’t sound right, either.
Thana chuckled. “Don’t mention it.”
Sylph fought the urge to frown, recalling her lack of words earlier and how she’d wanted Thana to truly hear those that went unspoken. “I fear you’re not listening.”
She expected anger again, but Thana smiled softly. “It’s all right. I know what you mean, and I know why you seem to be having trouble saying it. You’ve been at court a long time, and it must be hard to speak to a peasant.”
Before Sylph could argue, Thana winked. Sylph smiled back, recognizing teasing even if what she’d said was also the truth. But those weren’t the only reasons Sylph couldn’t speak. What she felt for Thana was…unprecedented. She recalled how mystified she’d been when her father first told her that she’d eventually marry well. She’d understood falling in love. She’d read about romance and had spied on some servants kissing in the hall. But nothing had seemed to recommend love beyond the simple slaking of lust. And even then, she’d had no one. She hadn’t even had friends. How was she supposed to find a spouse?
Every flirtation she’d experienced at court had felt false, a mere grab for power and influence. But Thana didn’t care about such things. And unlike those at court, she kept secrets for others and helped without asking for anything, and her emotions fluttered all about her for anyone to see. She cared.
She was a friend.
And they’d shared little moments of something more. Thana’s occasional heated stares said she felt attracted to Sylph. And in every mood of Thana’s, there was something to desire in her.
It grew easier to think of such things the longer she spent in Thana’s company. Now she just had to find a way to say them.
Chapter Nine
Thana didn’t know whether to be pleased or frustrated with Sylph, a state of half-emotion she hadn’t become accustomed to. Sylph was undeniably beautiful, and when they argued, Thana wanted to leap on her and lose herself in combustible passion. But then Sylph would turn vulnerable and open, and Thana wanted to cradle and protect her, kiss her gently and tell her everything would be all right.
It was all so stupid.
And impossible. There would be no kissing or leaping or losing herself. Sylph would be offended beyond belief if she tried anything romantic, would probably be offended at the very thought. Sylph might admit her vulnerability, had pleaded some ignorance, but she would never seek comfort from a peasant. She’d hit her maid over the head with no hesitation, and ladies were said to be very attached to their maids.
At least in the stories.
But that maid had also been a spy, so the stories were probably all wrong.
Either way, if Sylph hit her maid so easily, she’d never be kissed by some peasant she hardly knew. Worse still, she might do something extra offensive like tip Thana for the service. What else could Thana expect from someone who couldn’t even express her thanks?
Her head hung a little at that thought, but she couldn’t argue with it.
She focused on the path ahead, wondering if her theory about Sylph reacting to the crystal was correct. The teacher had mentioned a second shipment. Perhaps if she and Sylph investigated a path near the palace gardens, they’d run into this larger shipment and test her theory. And if they were out in the middle of nowhere when Sylph lost control, the danger to bystanders would be less, even if Sylph brought the outer wall to the garden down.
