Arkarian shakes his head. ‘I’ve lined up a leisurely day of baths and remedial massages for you.’
She eyes Carter, giving him an uncomfortable nod. His eyebrows lift as if Isabel’s presence here only confirms what he suspected all along. He bows to her slightly. ‘Always remember my words, Isabel.’
Arkarian looks at me with a query. I give a slight shrug. ‘I don’t know what he’s talking about.’
Carter smiles smugly, giving us a small salute before entering the Tribunal chamber. Arkarian’s gaze lingers on the man, but he soon remembers Isabel, who is standing beside us, fidgeting.
‘Arkarian, I don’t want a leisurely bath or massage. I want to see what’s going on. I want to be there. For Ethan,’ she adds, looking down at her entwined and twisting fingers.
Arkarian releases a long sigh, then closes his eyes in concentration. I swear he’s communicating with someone – Lorian, at a guess – seeking permission. His eyes flick open. ‘You’re allowed to watch on the condition that you don’t utter a single sound. Do you understand? No matter what you hear or how it goes for Ethan. All right, Isabel?’
‘I promise.’
‘Good. Now, Ethan, let’s get this ordeal under way. But if there is one piece of advice I can give you, it’s to keep your thoughts at peace and your mind open. Remember your own gifts from the Tribunal. Seek them out, refresh your spirit.’
I try to absorb these words, but my heart is hammering so hard it sounds as if it’s shifted position to somewhere between my ears. So all I can do in the end is follow Arkarian inside. He walks me to the centre of the ring, produces a stool for me to sit on, then walks outside the circle to a position behind a crystal stand on a square marble platform. He lays his palms flat on the crystal surface as if drawing strength from it, then begins to recite the statement he has prepared. He starts by talking about my adventurous and courageous nature and how earnestly I have taken on my new role as Trainer. He makes a point of how this enthusiasm, combined with the expectation to succeed in the eyes of the Tribunal, in order to attain my wings, pressured me into the action for which I am presently on trial.
About halfway through his kind words I realise what he’s doing – putting the onus of blame for my faults entirely on his own shoulders. He’s trying to get the Tribunal to blame him for my errors.
Arkarian flicks me an impassioned keep-your-thoughts-to-yourself kind of look. But I can’t do that. I can’t stand here and let him take the blame for my mistakes. No way. So I try to override his vocal words with contrary thoughts of my own, explaining how it was my own foolishness, my own attempt at impressing Isabel, my own stupidity that led me to breach the Guard’s secret code.
Arkarian is still talking in my defence, but he’s exasperated now. When he finishes, Lorian thanks him and asks him to sit down. He does, but only after giving me a warning stare to shut the hell up.
Carter is called next. He doesn’t have a speech prepared, which surprises me. I thought he’d be only too keen to voice his disapproval. Instead he waits for questions. The first concerns my breach of the code. He recounts more or less how it happened, from his viewpoint as the teacher in the class at the time.
‘Did anybody else witness this act?’ Penbarin asks from his seat to the right of Lorian.
‘Only one, a girl by the name of Rochelle Thallimar. She had a clear view and took serious notice.’
Oh, no, not Rochelle! Here I’d been hoping no one else saw. This affair is going to turn out worse than expected, I feel it in my bones. Arkarian gives me a look that tells me not to give up hope.
‘Do we have any instruction on this girl?’
Lady Devine answers Penbarin. ‘Rochelle’s mother died in a suspicious accident in the home when Rochelle was but five years old. Her father was, and still is, a violent man.’
This news has me riveted.
‘Rochelle lived with her violent father for many years, following his restless footsteps around their country. He remarried twice, and Rochelle gets along well with her latest stepmother. Two years ago Rochelle saved the woman’s life by physically stopping her father from bludgeoning her to death with a baseball bat. The woman was so severely beaten around the head that she fell into a coma from which she didn’t arise for fifteen days.’
Gasps erupt around the circle. Isabel’s mouth drops open, her eyes fill with disgust.
‘Gerard Thallimar was charged and convicted and is now serving an eight-year prison sentence. Rochelle moved house once again, this time with her recovering stepmother to Veridian –’ Here Lady Devine pauses, gathers her thoughts, then continues, ‘I mean Angel Falls – in hopes of starting a new life.’
This is news to me. I want to hear it, and yet it feels like an invasion of Rochelle’s privacy, and so part of me wants Lady Devine to stop.
But she doesn’t. ‘A ponderous chain of negativity surrounds her, which could be the result of her difficult childhood, or something more sinister.’
‘What is your conclusion, Lady Devine?’ Lorian asks. ‘The girl has a strong mind …’
What are they doing, speculating like this? It just doesn’t feel right.
‘And I do believe the potential to create evil is strong within her. I feel—’
‘Stop!’ I can’t help calling out. At the same time I wonder why I’m defending a girl I don’t even like, the girl who purposely broke up one of my longest friendships; but whatever has happened to Rochelle is her business. My little trick in the classroom should not have resulted in her private life being assessed in such a judgemental manner.
Lorian looks to me. ‘Do you have something to say, Ethan?’
I suck in a deep breath. ‘Rochelle is not evil.’
‘What makes you so sure?’
‘I don’t know exactly,’ I reply honestly. ‘Instinct, maybe. I can’t really say. But I have met this girl.’
‘Tell us what you know of her.’
Hell, where do I begin? Certainly I can’t tell them about— I stop my thoughts quickly before I reveal more unsavoury qualities in Rochelle’s nature. ‘She’s strong-willed and she does things that most people wouldn’t, but I don’t think it’s because she’s evil. I think she does these things simply to create mischief.’
‘We would have no need for the Guard, Ethan, if it wasn’t for the Goddess of Chaos all those thousands of years ago who sought to create mischief. It sounds as if Rochelle fits right in with the Goddess’s ultimate plan.’
‘No, Rochelle is not evil. I can’t explain it, I just know.’
‘You must give us more than that.’
‘It’s a gut feeling. I’m sorry, that’s all I have.’
‘Hmm.’ Lorian lets the subject lie, then asks Carter if anyone else saw the breach.
‘No,’ he says, then clears his throat. ‘But the second breach was witnessed by every member of the class.’
These words cause a hum of murmurs to erupt around the room. Lorian quietens everyone with one powerful look. Carter is asked to explain. He holds up the scrunched-up note with TruthMaster written in my handwriting, explaining how he came to find it sitting openly on a school desk for all to see.
A couple of Tribunal members start murmuring among themselves, and I feel others are murmuring to each other without speaking out loud. They’re all jumping to the wrong conclusions. ‘It wasn’t like that!’
Arkarian warns me with a sharp look.
Isabel stands up as if to come into the circle, but Arkarian takes her by the waist and pulls her down beside him.
‘Quiet!’ Lorian brings the room to complete silence. ‘Ethan, your version, please.’
I take a deep breath, attempting to regain my equilibrium. I need them all to believe me, to understand that I didn’t intend to expose Arkarian’s title in public. That it wasn’t at all the way Carter describes. I also don’t want to implicate Isabel in any way. Not that she would be blamed for any wrongdoing. She’s my Apprentice; responsibility for her is all mine. ‘The pap
er was not meant to be seen by anyone other than my Apprentice, and it wouldn’t have attracted the slightest attention if Croc-face—’ I stop, seared to my seat. I don’t dare look at anyone; the silence is enough to deafen me. I swallow hard and continue as if I hadn’t blurted out those derogatory words. ‘If Mr Carter hadn’t drawn attention to it, that is. I was careful—’
‘As careful as you were when Rochelle saw your stunt with the pen?’ Lorian asks, already knowing the answer.
‘I admit I made a mistake in that instance. But the title written on this paper was seen by no one else in that classroom.’
‘Can you swear to that?’
Can I? Just how careful was I, really?
Lorian turns to Carter, who is forced into an admission of sorts. ‘It’s possible the word itself was not examined except by Ethan, Isabel and myself. Of course at the time I was unaware that Isabel was chosen for the Guard. I had my suspicions, but—’
Lorian holds up a hand and Carter shuts up.
After a short silence, where I suspect the Tribunal are sharing their thoughts without speech, Lorian shocks me by asking Carter for his direct personal opinion of my character, and whether he thinks I’m ready for the power of flight.
Arkarian jumps up. ‘Why not ask me? I’ve known Ethan for many years, his thoughts and his deeds. I know what’s in his heart.’
Lorian waves Arkarian away. ‘That may be so, Arkarian, but Marcus has also known Ethan for many years, and spends much time with him in the classroom. Your opinion has already been given, by the way, with every burst of thought you’ve inadvertently shot our way. Loud and clear.’
Arkarian, suitably put down, sits without saying another word, and Lorian nods in Carter’s direction. Carter’s eyes shift to mine, narrowed in an assessing manner. ‘Under my observation,’ he begins, and I groan – thinking just get it over with. ‘I do believe the boy has enormous potential.’
These words come as a complete surprise. My eyes search his, wondering where this compliment is coming from.
‘I sense, as well as see to a certain extent, a strength of courage, determination and great skill.’ Amazed I watch as Penbarin, Arabella and the others nod and murmur in agreement with each other. ‘But I believe he still has a lot to learn, and that this will only happen with a maturity he has yet to develop. Therefore it is my opinion that Ethan Roberts is not ready for his wings.’
Among a general hum of murmurs Carter is dismissed with the thanks of the Tribunal. He leaves the room and a silence follows, where I know the members are all communicating with each other. Arkarian and Isabel share a worried but hopeful look in my direction. After what seems like an eternity, Lorian stands and motions to me to stand also. The immortal approaches me and raises both hands over the top of my head. In a flash, the room fills with blinding light. I try not to flinch. This is just a gift Lorian is bestowing on me. ‘When you first received the gifts of the Houses you were but a child. With this light I refresh those gifts …’
Lorian steps back and the light contracts so that it now only covers my head and shoulders. My scalp tingles with the sensation of electric charges, which quickly make their way through my head to the rest of my body. A strong vision pierces my subconscious to illuminate the day when I was five and the Lords of the Houses bent over me, bestowing me with their gifts. I see them clearly again – Lady Devine, her floor-length red hair swaying and brushing across my trembling knees. ‘Animation,’ she whispers, and this time I understand. I have an affinity with all that is real and all that is unreal. That’s why I can move objects and create illusions. The gift of animation enhances my inherited skills. Meridian ambles over next, endowing me with the gift of sanity, of which I was in sore need at the time. Brystianne follows with the gift of forgiveness, and Sir Syford brings enlightenment, so that I may one day be able to share my knowledge. Elenna offers physical skill and safety. Alexandon, from the House of Criers, gives me courage, just as he gave Isabel. Arabella, with her translucent icy skin, seemingly floats towards me, weaving her hands in a pattern over my small head, and offers me the talent of seeing reality through deception. Then Penbarin, the last of them, approaches slowly, aware that his enormous size would frighten this little boy. He smiles at me and caresses the side of my childish face. ‘Insight and belief in thyself,’ I recall him saying clearly now.
I shake my head as the light lifts off me and my boyish memories disappear. I look around and see everyone seated as they were, but the sensation lingers that each of the Lords has somehow touched my mind.
Lorian moves closer without my noticing. ‘And now I renew my gift to you,’ the immortal says, raising a hand again to hover slightly above my head. ‘I offer the light of maturity to fill you and strengthen your inner spirit.’
With these words my whole body jerks as if struck by a bolt of lightning. For a moment I feel as if I’m going to pass out. Lorian’s head bows slightly. ‘Ethan Roberts, it is the unanimous decision of this Tribunal that you shall not be stripped of your newly appointed Trainer status.’
Regaining my balance, I feel a flush of relief sweep through me. These words give me hope that all is not lost.
‘Trainer is one of the most important positions of the Guard. Not all members are capable of carrying out this responsibility, to nurture the growth of our future armies.’
Yes! This is good news. Too good, it seems, as suddenly Lorian’s voice takes on a serious edge. ‘But the power of flight is something else entirely, and it is therefore with reluctance that this Tribunal must rule that you will not be issued your wings now nor on your next birthday.’
I can’t stop myself from asking, ‘Then when should I expect them?’
The immortal looks straight at me with eyes that make me want to run. I try hard to hold this powerful stare. My entire body trembles with the effort. Lorian says carefully, so that I hear and understand every word, ‘The decision to withhold your wings, Ethan, is indefinite.’
It is the worst judgement ever.
Chapter Twenty-five
Isabel
From the moment the Tribunal passed down its judgement, Ethan vowed to win back their belief in him. For the last week he’s been driven in preparing me for my first real mission, even though just where and when that will be, Arkarian refuses to give us one clue. So every day we train in our favourite grounds, a small clearing on the far side of the lake, surrounded by mountainous woodland and rising cliffs. There’s enough privacy, especially now that winter is fast approaching and snow has fallen on higher ground.
I’ve started making good progress with the sword, and Ethan works diligently at enhancing my ability to draw out the gifts bestowed on me in initiation. The only one that has revealed itself so far is the ability to see clearly in any light, courtesy of Arabella from the House of Sky and Water. Reading by the moon, while sitting in my own bedroom in the evening, is a thrilling experience. But the other psychic power I’m supposed to have from birth still eludes us, and this drives Ethan crazy with frustration. At least my healing skills are improving, though too slowly for my own liking. It’s the one and, so far, only power I have, so I would like it to be honed and ready, should it be needed.
‘Here!’ Ethan calls, dodging the tip of my blunted dagger again. ‘Faster, Isabel! Not all your assailants will wait until you decide from which direction they’re going to come at you.’
‘You’re so funny, Ethan. How about this?’ While appearing as if I intend to strike high, I fake a downward thrust, ending up with the dagger pointing directly at Ethan’s jugular.
He raises his hands and steps back from the dagger. ‘Hmm, how well I’ve taught you!’
‘If my fingers weren’t so frozen I’d run this blunted dagger tip right through to your other side.’
He laughs, and goes and adds a couple of dry timber pieces to the fire. ‘How about a hot chocolate?’
‘Yes, please.’ We’ve taken to bringing supplies with us for sustenance and warmth. Today, it’s p
owdered chocolate drinks.
I squat beside Ethan as he prepares the drinks, warming my fingers by the fire. The sound of a twig crackling makes us both jerk to the side, startled. ‘Did you hear that?’
Ethan nods silently as he stands and looks around, a frown buried deep between his brows. But then I spot the source of our fear. A small brown rabbit has ventured out of its warren, probably to warm itself by our fire, or perhaps it has caught the scent of our chocolate drinks.
‘Look down, Ethan.’ I point towards the edge of the clearing.
Ethan peers at the small brown rabbit, his frown growing deeper.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘I think it’s hurt. Look how it leans slightly to one side. Is that blood on its hindquarter?’
I stand to get a better perspective, being careful not to startle the timid creature, but apparently my concern isn’t necessary. The rabbit makes its way slowly towards me, not stopping until it reaches my feet. I stare at it with an open mouth, then at Ethan. ‘Can you believe this?’
The rabbit sits up on its hindquarters, front paws dangling in the air, its small round eyes appealing to me in a way that is almost human.
Carefully I pick it up, as it is obviously injured.
‘It wants you to heal it,’ Ethan says. ‘It senses you’re a healer.’
‘Of animals?’
‘Why not? If you’re gifted, who’s to say it should be restricted to humans only?’
‘Wow! So what’s wrong with the rabbit?’
He gives a little laugh. ‘You’re the healer, Isabel. You find out.’
I lower myself to the ground cross-legged, holding the rabbit in my lap, careful not to move it unnecessarily. It doesn’t squirm, just keeps looking up at me with those round, pleading eyes. Moving my hands over its limbs, I feel them gently, soon finding a broken bone and sensing the tissues and torn ligaments within. ‘How could this happen, out here in the woods?’
‘Hmm, good question.’ Ethan squats down beside me, but his mind is on the surrounding woodland. He scours it for signs of something.
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