The Sapphire Flute: Book 1 of The Wolfchild Saga

by Karen E. Hoover

CHAPTER NINETEEN

  For the second time in as many days, DeMunth woke Ember with his wordless singing. His voice haunted her dreams in the best of ways, so when her eyes cracked open, it was with a wolfish grin and a lightened heart. She lay in silence, watching and listening as he knelt in the same position as the morning before, his arms outstretched and head thrown back. In anyone else, it would have seemed a prideful challenge to the heavens, but in DeMunth, it was an attitude of humble servitude, as if he were giving every piece of himself to the Guardians through his song.

  Ember was more than a little fascinated with him. She hated to admit it, but just being near him made her stomach jump. He was handsome enough, she guessed, but it was his energy, the intelligence, and talent he kept hidden except in praise, that drew her to him. He reminded her of the best parts of Aldarin and Ren, with something uniquely his own added to the mix. Too soon, his song was done and Ember sighed. She hated to have it end.

  She closed her eyes as she looked at him, then snapped them open again just as quickly, a sharp yip escaping her as she jumped to her feet. There was more to DeMunth than could be seen with eyes alone. He stared at her now, his face a mixture of confusion and fear as she immediately went to full defensive mode, a low growl rumbling in her chest.

  “What is it?” Shad asked, all calmness with still-sleepy overtones.

  “He glows,” she answered, not sure how to express what she’d seen. The man was a miniature sun. It hurt to blink in his presence, though why she hadn’t noticed it the day before, she wasn’t sure.

  Instead of answering, the two men laughed. Ember’s hackles rose higher with the indignity.

  DeMunth slowly got to his feet and approached her, his hands open and out, a sign that he meant no harm.

  Still, her fur stood on end as he came close. She couldn’t calm the uneasiness that settled over her at the sight of his glowing form.

  “There’s nothing to fear,” Shad answered. “DeMunth, you might as well tell her. If she’s anything like her mother, she won’t trust you until she understands.”

  What was that supposed to mean?

  DeMunth settled on the log in front of Ember and began his story in his clear mind-speech. Again, he sounded as though he spoke with his lips, but Ember watched and was sure they never moved. His mouth drew down at the corners, his brow furrowed just a bit. Evidently it was a painful subject. She sat down slowly and waited.

  “At the age of five, my mother took me to the priests of Sha’iim to be raised as one of their own. Why she did this, I am unsure, and it does not matter. I had not one father, but seventy-three, and nearly one hundred brothers. I had no time to miss my mother, nor did I often feel the lack. I was well cared for, loved, and rose quickly in my studies.

  “By the time I turned fifteen, I was in training to become a full priest and taught classes to the young acolytes. It was predicted that I would become Father of the order by forty, and it may well have been, if not for the dream.”

  Completely immersed in the story, Ember didn’t even bother to scratch as a beetle climbed slowly up her leg. DeMunth continued.

  “At seventeen, I had a dream, but it was unlike any other dream I’d known. A man came to me as I slept, a man who wore sunlight the way I wear clothes. He shone so brightly, it would have burned my eyes had I been awake. I doubt I would have survived the experience if he had not changed me in some way.” DeMunth’s face shone, not with light, but with peace and joy as he relived the experience.

  “He spoke of a breastplate I was to find and protect. It was a keystone created by the Guardians to hold Rasann together after the battle between S’Kotos and Mahal nearly tore our world apart.” This was all new to Ember. Evidently that was obvious, for DeMunth addressed her directly then, pulling himself from the story. “You do not know of the teachings? Have you not heard of Mahal, Klii’kunn, or Hwalan?”

  Ember shook her head. The names were foreign to her. DeMunth sighed deeply. “Your education has been much neglected. We will rectify that. The Guardians were the creators of our world, brothers, all of them. There were a hundred to begin with, but after the fall only seven remained, one of whom became The Destroyer. S’Kotos.” DeMunth nearly spat the name.

  “It was Sha'iim who visited me that night. He is the Guardian of Light. He is the guardian of light, holder of the yellow magic, and it was his creation that lay in peril—the Golden Breastplate. He told me where it could be found, and as soon as the light faded from my dream, I awoke with the knowledge of where to find it, and how it could be retrieved.

  “In the basement of the monastery I found a hidden room, accessed only by the highest of the priests. I found it quickly, guided by my dream and the voice speaking to my heart. It told me of a hidden latch and taught me what I must do to enter. The breastplate was there. It glowed when I entered the room, as if it was waiting. It spoke to me.”

  Ember drew back at that, and he was quick to explain.

  “Not in words. It spoke peace to my heart and sent an invitation which I readily accepted. I removed my tunic and donned the breastplate. Strangely, the armor embedded itself in my skin and sank beneath it. I know it is hard to believe, but it is that which you saw when I sang my praises.”

  Ember had chills on top of chills. The breastplate sank beneath his skin? That scene was too familiar for comfort, and she really didn’t like the implication for her own situation. The bracelets sank beneath her skin just the day before, but she found it hard to believe it was Guardian magic. Hadn’t Ezeker said they were made by her father? Or had she just assumed?

  DeMunth continued. “Unfortunately, the head priests found me and did not understand my vision. They tortured me in the hopes of getting the breastplate back, and finally resorted to cutting out my tongue so I could never speak the ‘lies’ which kept me from returning what I had stolen. Rather than take my life, which would have been against the laws of the priesthood, they set me free to wander in the forest alone. That act nearly killed me. If it had not been for your uncle carrying me to your grandmother, I surely would have died.” DeMunth placed his hand on Shad’s shoulder and affectionately scratched behind his ears.

  Ember finally understood the closeness they shared. She also understood what it was she had seen. She wanted to know more about this keystone, but she had so many questions, she didn’t know where to start. She sat in stunned silence for a long while. Shad and DeMunth began to look at each other nervously, fidgeting where they stood, growing more impatient with each passing moment.

  Unable to organize her thoughts well enough to project them, and frustrated with the limitations of her wolf body, she shapeshifted back into her boy form. It was less painful than the night before, and she did it almost instantly.

  “So, this breastplate, did it leave any kind of mark on your skin? Can you see it with your eyes open?” she asked. DeMunth stared at her in shock, though Ember wasn’t sure if it was because she looked like a boy or had shifted so quickly. She couldn’t hear his thoughts unless he sent them to her, and all she felt from him was astonishment. Shad chuckled appreciatively in his mind.

  Visibly shaking himself, DeMunth answered. “No, not so much as I can tell. Why?”

  Ember didn’t answer. “Can I see?”

  DeMunth cocked his head, but slowly pulled his tunic up. Ember’s heart fluttered at the muscles rippling across his chest, but her stomach knotted with imagined pain at the scars across his arms and neck. She took a step closer and bent her head to his chest to see better.

  There was a faint shimmer to DeMunth’s skin, but not much more than would be had by a shirtless walk through a pollen-filled meadow. She looked closer. The shine stopped in a distinct line at his shoulder and neck. There were also no scars on his torso. One particularly bad burn scar severed exactly on that line. On one side it was waxy, shriveled skin, and the other perfectly normal, if softly glowing. The hair on the back of Ember’s neck stood up as she traced the lines. DeMunth shivered and pulled away.
r />   “There is a line. Right here,” she traced it again, “and here.”

  DeMunth squished his chin downward. Shad stepped forward to look.

  “Well, look at that. She’s right.”

  “Where?” DeMunth asked, straining to see.

  “Just trust us. It’s there. How did you know?” Shad asked, turning to Ember. She pulled up her sleeves and showed them her tattooed wrists and hands, then opened her collar and showed them the pendant tattooed into her sternum.

  “Yesterday these were silver, a gift from my father.” Shad’s nostrils flared as he sniffed at her arm and examined the bracelet as closely as she’d examined DeMunth’s chest. DeMunth glanced at the scrolling lines and smiled, then grabbed her wrist and pulled her into his arms.

  Ember’s breath caught in her throat. The pull she felt from DeMunth was not just physical. There was some kind of connection between them that she didn’t understand, but could not deny. The smell of him was intoxicating. A mixture of sunshine, horse, and some kind of herb. He smelled good, and not just as in “pleasant.” He smelled of goodness, strange as it sounded even to herself. She took a deep whiff while his arms were wrapped around her. She was in his arms, her heart racing—but it couldn’t be. It wasn’t right.

  She pulled back quickly. She was a girl on the inside, yes, and there was not a thing wrong with liking this handsome, strong man, but outside, for all intents and purposes, she looked like a boy. It was tempting to tell Shad she had changed her mind and was going to be female no matter what, just so she could continue to feel safe and protected. But it was silly and she knew it. Her safety was at stake here, and not only her own, but that of Shad and DeMunth as well. She had to bury her feelings or things would not only look bad, but if Ian found her, they would be bad.

  Ember sat down heavily on the log behind her, Shad sitting on his haunches at her feet and DeMunth beside her. “I’m not sure what all this means,” she said, “but Ian saw the tattoos when he had me in the cave. He’s going to recognize me, whether I’m a boy or a girl, if he sees these.” She raised her arms from her lap again. “It would be nice if my new magic would let me cover them, but what am I supposed to do? Grow another layer of skin?” Ember had tried doing just that the night before, but it had been like trying to move a house with her bare hands.

  Shad shook his head and didn’t answer. DeMunth took his time before he mind-spoke to her, his eyes staring into hers with great intensity. “Did you have a vision when you received the bracelets?”

  Ember shook her head.

  DeMunth sighed. “Then I am unsure whether it is a gift from the Guardians, or magic created to imitate it. Either way, it is powerful, and nothing to be toyed with. It also needs to remain hidden. My story alone should convince you of the danger these things can bring when the wrong people know of them.” He scraped a hand through his hair, then spoke to Shad. “Do you think perhaps you could use your gifts to create a similar bracelet to cover up the one on her skin?” DeMunth asked, tracing the pattern of the bracelet on her hand for a brief moment, giving Ember goosebumps.

  Shad nodded. “Yes, I think I can. The only problem is finding materials. I obviously don’t have anything on hand to make such a thing.”

  DeMunth jogged to his saddle bag and pulled out a sack that chinked as he threw it to the wolf.

  Shad shifted to human form almost instantly and plucked it out of the air. He opened the neck of the bag and spilled a few coins into his hand, a mixture of silver and copper. Shad looked up at DeMunth, and the mute shrugged. Something passed between them that Ember didn’t understand, but Shad sighed and got to work.

  He separated the coins by type and placed them in small piles on the log, one to each side of him. He took one of the copper coins in his hand, closed his eyes, then pushed at it with his thumbs. The copper stretched like clay. Ember gasped, then watched transfixed as he proceeded to stretch it into long threads that he snipped and curled into small chains, using only his fingernails. He melted the chains into the edge of one of the larger copper coins, then put his hand out.

  “May I?” he asked, nodding toward her hand. Ember rested it in his lap. Shad measured the length of the chain and width of the coin against the dark silver lines on her hand, then nodded approvingly and resumed working.

  DeMunth tapped Ember on the shoulder. She turned, reluctant to tear her eyes away from Shad’s creation, only to have a bundle thrust at her. “Shad told me about your decision not to change . . .certain things about yourself.” DeMunth reddened. “I thought this might help with your disguise.” It was hard to remember that DeMunth didn’t speak with his mouth. Even staring him in the face, she almost heard him with her ears.

  She took the bundle as he turned away, his ears still red. Ember tried to hide her smile. She’d feel the same in a similar situation. It was one more thing she liked about the man.

  She found a semi-private spot behind some bushes back in the woods. She unraveled DeMunth’s bundle to find not only clean breeches and a baggy cream shirt, but a leather vest, some boots, and a roll of bandages.

  Relieved, she pulled her shirt over her head and wrapped the bandage around her chest, pulling it tight, for once thankful for her modest size. Uncle Shad was obviously not completely human to think she was well endowed. That had never been her problem. It made hiding her gender much easier.

  Once dressed, she sat down to pull on the boots. They were huge, almost twice her normal size. She almost put her others on, then thought twice about it. If she wore her own boots, her feet would be completely out of proportion to the rest of her body. How many men had feet as small as hers? She’d never met a one.

  She sighed in resignation. If she was going to pretend to be a boy, she might as well do it all. Well, almost all. She glanced down. It would be pointless to have gone through the pain and challenge of changing her appearance only to have her identity given away by something as silly as the size of her feet.

  Grasping her foot, Ember closed her eyes and sent a surge of energy from heel to toe. Her foot grew slowly, growing pains accompanying a deep ache that throbbed through her feet and brought tears to her eyes. When she thought she might be done, she held the boot up to the bottom of her foot, but it was still too big. Whose boots were these, anyway? She shook her head and sent more energy into her foot, expanding the size another couple of inches before she stopped and looked. They were bigger, yes, but they still looked feminine. What was it that made boys’ feet look different? Ember tried to remember Aldarin’s feet. Veins bulged across the top, and his toes were extremely hairy. Maybe that’s all it was.

  She experimented with it, actually coming to enjoy the finite details that truly made her feet look masculine.

  Pulling the boots back on, she was relieved when they fit just right. She gathered her old clothes into a ball and walked back to the big willow tree to find that DeMunth and Shad were the only ones left. She scanned the woods before asking, “Where’s the pack?”

  “They returned home. There is no need for them to travel to Javak, and most of them are not comfortable in large cities.”

  Shad handed DeMunth the nearly empty coin sack. The mute promptly tucked it into the side of his saddle bag, then strapped it across his stallion’s rump. Shad continued. “We’re only an hour away from Javak. DeMunth says your family’s group was planning to travel through the night. If we leave now, we should just beat them there. Running with the pack has certain advantages, one of which is speed.” He reached inside one of the old coin sacks and pulled out one of the bracelets he’d spent the last half hour making.

  “Here.” Ember extended her arms and let Shad slide the ring on her finger, then the bracelet around her wrist. The lines matched up perfectly. “How did you do that?”

  He shrugged. “It’s part of the stonesculpting gift. Perfect visual recall.” Shad glanced around the clearing. Evidently finding everything to his satisfaction, he strolled to the curtain of branches, parted it, and turned to Ember. �
��Come. There’s no need to shift shape and scare the locals.” His eyes twinkled.

  “If we’re so close to Javak, why didn’t we just go there last night?” she asked.

  “Multiple reasons, but primarily because they collapse the pipes at dusk.” Ember gave him a questioning look and he laughed. “You’ll see when we get there. Come on.” Shad took her bundled clothes and handed them to DeMunth. “It would have been pointless to camp on the rim of the city when there’s a perfectly good spot here under the willow. Besides, it was raining—did you forget already?”

  Ember grimaced. “How can I forget when it hasn’t stopped?” Shad laughed, and continued to laugh as he stepped to DeMunth’s side and led the two of them to the road.

  It was actually less than an hour before they arrived in Javak, the city of magic. Ember could hardly believe she had arrived. It was a deep valley with sides that looked as though they had been cut, smooth and perfectly straight—sheer rock that led to a valley of water and life. The city lay before her as though a giant had planted his walking stick here. She had never seen any place so green and lovely. It was breathtaking as a whole, but her eyes were drawn time and again to the water as they walked the cliff’s edge and headed toward a line of people. Shad escorted Ember to the back of the line and stood with her in silence while she took in the view.

  Five waterfalls cascaded into the bowl, and it was a wonder the valley hadn’t flooded with the sheer volume of water that pounded from the mountains. Somehow it had been diverted into a large river that circled the city and exited the southern end of the valley, while the largest and most beautiful of Javak’s buildings thrust up from the water itself. Ember watched the people from a distance, appearing antlike as they moved on the floating bridges and paddled through the water to reach their destinations.

  Ember felt a nudge in her side, and she looked ahead to find the line had crept forward. She glanced at her grinning uncle and took a step to catch up. She wasn’t sure if the constant grins were part of his nature or if he was extremely happy to be with her, though she suspected the former.

  It was strange, traveling with men she didn’t know. Ember had been with Shad and DeMunth for less than two days, and yet she connected to them on a subconscious level that rivaled the strength of emotion she held for her stepbrothers. She could understand it where Shad was concerned. He was blood, after all, even if she had just met him, but her feelings for DeMunth confused and overwhelmed her. She didn’t know where those feelings would take them, or if he even felt the same way, but she certainly hoped she’d have the chance to find out under better circumstances.

  She turned her thoughts from the mute and instead let her mind wander back through the last forty-eight hours and the changes they had brought. A tale of dreams, it seemed. Her father, a wolfwalker and a mage. And now all these years later, finding family she didn’t know she had in Uncle Shad and a grandmother she longed to meet.

  It seemed forever before the line crept forward again, and then Ember was at the front, staring at a large man who looked quite at ease behind a small, square table. It was obvious he was used to taking charge. He glanced up at her with a pinched, bored smile.

  “Name, please,” he asked.

  “Ember Shandae,” she said before thinking about it, then mentally kicked herself just as a voice she knew very well called from behind her. It took all the willpower she had not to jump with guilt as she heard it.

  “Step aside, councilman coming through,” Aldarin yelled.

  Ember moved as far from the table as she reasonably could, her heart racing like DeMunth’s

  horse. The people around her grumbled, glaring at Aldarin and Ezeker for cutting to the front. If they recognized her, not only would her plans be ruined, but all their lives could be in danger. She couldn’t take that chance. She ducked her head and hid herself behind Shad, though she peeked upward to watch as the old mage and her stepbrother approached.

  They stopped right in front of her. Ember held her breath, trying to swallow her stomach as it had somehow managed to lodge itself in her throat. She put her hands in her pockets to hide the shaking. Shad put his hand on her shoulder, and for the first time, mindspoke to her in human form. “Calm yourself, child. You’ll do none of them any good if your nerves give us away.”

  “I know,” she said, blinking back tears of frustration. “I keep telling myself that, but my body isn’t listening.” She expected him to laugh, but he didn’t.

  “Deep breaths. Just keep taking deep breaths.” He withdrew from her mind, but kept his hand on her shoulder and breathed with her.Her heart rate began to slow. She closed her eyes to better concentrate.

  She had just reached the point where she felt she could handle the situation when a hand touched her elbow and her heart raced back to its previous pace, her eyes snapping open. Aldarin’s head tipped to the side, his eyes troubled. She’d blown it—he’d seen through her disguise, and her family was going to pay for it. She pleaded with her eyes, and had just opened her mouth to say something when he spoke.

  “Are you all right? You look a little pale.” Shad tensed and sent a questioning thought her way.

  Ember shook her head in his direction. Oblivious to the exchange, Aldarin continued. “I’m sorry we had to cut to the front like this, but my father is dying. We have to get him to the council right now.” His eyes teared up. He blinked hard, then leaned over Ezeker’s shoulder and whispered something to him. Ezeker nodded. It bothered Ember to see his long, white beard caked with ash, turning it a dirty gray. What happened to his weather charm? Surely he didn’t give it away. She shook her head. Obviously he had, and probably to Paeder, no matter that her stepfather was protected in the wagon. It was just the kind of thing Ezeker would do.

  Ember sighed, almost collapsing with relief that they hadn’t recognized her.

  “Sir, your papers?” the waiting guard said to Aldarin. He turned and accepted the packet with a nod, then stopped as he caught sight of Ember’s face. He cocked his head and really looked at her. “Do I know you?” he asked.

  She shook her head, not trusting herself to speak.

  “Strange. You seem so familiar. Any family up Karsholm way?”

  Ember wanted to laugh at the question, but she didn’t dare. She shrugged her shoulders and nudged the ash with the toe of her boot.

  “Huh.”

  She watched Aldarin from beneath her lashes as he caught his lip in his teeth and examined her. How he would puzzle out her identity, she didn’t know, but she was sure he would if he had enough time with her. He hadn’t become captain of Ezeker’s guard merely because of his ability to lead—he was smart and very observant. She tried not to shrink under his gaze, though it was difficult. More than anything she wanted to throw herself into his arms and confess the truth, but she couldn’t take the chance. She hadn’t seen Ian, but she was sure he would arrive before long. Ember scuffed her boots in the ash and waited for the guard to call her forward again.

  “Who?” Shad asked in mindspeech.

  “Aldarin. Brother,” she answered, and at his confused look, clarified, “stepbrother.”

  Ezeker saved her from Aldarin’s questioning when he turned and walked across the clearing to Paeder’s boxy wagon. He opened the door and spoke to someone inside. Aldarin followed with a shake of his head and a final questioning glance in Ember’s direction. She tried hard to appear as if she wasn’t aware of every step he took.

  Shad chuckled, but it had an edge to it.

  “All right, who’s next?” the man at the table called.

  “I’ll be right back,” Shad whispered. She felt him leave and someone step into line behind her.

  She paid very little attention as she checked in with the guard at the table and received instruction on the mage trials and a cloth bag containing all orientation material, as well as food chits. Ember turned to go, still examining the contents of the bag, when she ran smack into a very hard stomach. She looked up in surprise, her hat hitti
ng the dirt about the same time her jaw fell open in shock.

  Ian had been standing behind her all this time. She stared, searching her brain for anything to say, but all she could do was stare at him and stammer. “Sorry, so sorry, sir. My apologies.”

  “That’s fine, boy,” he said with a smile, though his eyes remained hard and cold. Ember backed away and reached for her hat, her sleeve pulling back to expose the bracelets Shad had made just that morning. In a flash Ian took hold of her hand and examined the workmanship. Ember’s heart had raced earlier, but now it froze at his grip. She didn’t dare even breathe, though her eyes frantically searched for Uncle Shad in the throng that surrounded her.

  “Where’d you get these?” he asked, suspicion lacing his gravelly voice.

  “A-a- boy on the road made them, sir. Bought ’em off him just this morning. Said he was goin’ to make a fortune at the trials, he did.” Ember scrambled for the first thing that popped into her head and hoped he bought her story.

  Ian snorted. “Slave bracelets? You bought slave bracelets from a vendor? Why would anyone want those?” His eyes seemed to see right through her.

  “Slave bracelets? They’re just pretties, sir.” Ember shrugged and raised her hand, pretending to examine the workmanship while watching Ian from beneath her lashes. Pretties? Oh, that was just brilliant, Ember. She groaned inwardly. He was going to figure out the truth for sure.

  The man squinted at her and pursed his lips, then leaned close and spoke quietly. “I’ll check out your story, but if you’re who I think you are, I’ll find you.”

  It took everything she had not to run right then. Instead she schooled her expression into confused terror, which wasn’t too far off from what she really felt. How could he sense the fear and deceit in her? The man must have some kind of gift. She remembered the night he’d taken her, and how he’d known her heart rate and seen her teeth in the dark.

  “Sir, they’re just pretties. Please, can I have my hand back?” She trembled, but hoped it added to her disguise rather than exposing her. Ian gave her one last searching look before letting go. “Bah! Off with you, boy. I’ll be seeing you again, I’m sure.”

  Ember scrambled to the end of the line of people waiting to use the transportation pipes. She had never seen anything like it. Where were the stairs? Ladders? A path leading down the cliffside? Anything had to be better than the suicidal ride before her. A large pipe gaped before her, a dark opening that looked more like a mouth waiting to eat her than anything else. Her turn was coming up fast, and Uncle Shad had not returned. The girl in front of her took a running start and dove into the darkness, squealing.

  Ember turned her back on the pipe and scanned the clearing for Shad, but there was still no sign of him or DeMunth.

  “This way, sir,” a young guard said, taking her by the elbow.

  She pulled back. “I’m waiting for my uncle. It’s okay, I can wait.” He beckoned her forward and patted a large rug that was placed on a smooth, flattened area before the pipe. “He’ll meet you at the bottom, I’m sure. Sit here, lean back, and have fun. This is the best part of the journey. You’ll see,” he said, grinning at her like the youth he was. It reminded her a bit of Tiva’s lopsided smile, and suddenly she missed him. It surprised her. She hadn’t missed the twins while they were gone to school, but now she did. She didn’t want to think about it.

  Besides, her brothers were on the way down to Javak as well. She’d seen their horses led away as Paeder’s bed was lowered down the side of the cliff. She might even run across them at some point, though they wouldn’t know her from a stranger.

  Ember looked around one last time, then realized her real identity would be revealed pretty quickly if she didn’t stop acting like a girl. She sat on the rug, legs extended, with her small satchel resting in her lap. She clutched it impulsively as the boy got behind her and, with no warning whatsoever, shoved her forward. She flew through the gaping hole and screamed as the bottom dropped from beneath her. She knew it didn’t sound masculine to scream, but she couldn’t help herself—it just burst out as her stomach sank and she flew down the pipe, twisting and spinning and bumping her head on every turn. It was a long spiral, down, down, down. Ember rocked back and forth around the tunnel as she slid forever toward the ground, seeming to defy gravity—and then it occurred to her that the trip might be easier if she lay back. Immediately her pace increased, though she was better able to steer herself. That marginal feeling of control allowed her body to relax. She was almost enjoying the ride when, suddenly, she was upside down and falling feet first out of the pipe, where she stopped, half-way to the ground. Ember looked around at the laughing faces as she hung in midair.

  One of the men reached out a hand, and Ember gladly took it. He pulled gently on her arm, and she floated to him as if she were a skater gliding on ice. It was a rather odd feeling, as if the air itself had thickened to hold her weight, and it was only that which held her down. It seemed that at any moment she might just float away like a magic carpet. But the farther she got from the opening, the more she sank to the ground, her body regaining its weight. She had never been so grateful to feel dirt beneath her feet.

  “Thank you, sir,” she said breathlessly to the handsome ruffian who had helped her.

  “Not a problem, boy, not a problem at all. Happy to oblige a new candidate.”

  She was saved from further conversation by familiar voices coming from the space behind her, though still completely within her head, continuing the conversation they’d had for the past hour. She had tuned it out shortly after they began talking about vortexes and wavering power lines. It made no sense to her.

  “I tell you, someone is playing with the mage lines, for the power to go out in the area like it has. An eruption alone would not be enough to draw that much to it. Someone has been feeding that mountain and disabled most of the spells in the area,” DeMunth ranted.

  “Oh, hush for a bit, Munth. We can talk about it later,” Ember’s uncle responded.

  DeMunth snorted, though whether in laughter or disgust, Ember wasn’t sure. Once the two men had their feet on the ground, Shad took charge.

  “Come on then, let’s get you to the council house.” Uncle Shad propelled her forward with a hand he quickly dropped from the small of her back.

  “The council house? What’s that?” she asked.

  “It’s home for the next few days. Not exactly my idea of a comforting cave, but one does have to make sacrifices.” Shad laughed as he led her and DeMunth westward.

  The town was set up in a grid. They wandered down the avenues created by the stores and vendor stalls. Most of the stores were actually canvas or silk tents—temporary storefronts that could travel wherever business was best. There was a carnival atmosphere here. People dressed in bright and bold colors, with gauzy veils and shawls for the women, colorful vests and knee-high boots for the men. And hats. Many, many hats. Tall hats, brimmed hats, pointed and round hats. There were caps, and turbans, and a little beanie hat that barely covered the top of one gentleman’s oversized head. It made Ember smile. The place was a cacophony of sight and sound as they made their way due west, with vendors calling and laughter bubbling as people browsed.

  The scent of roasting pig, sausage rolls, and fruit pies assailed Ember’s nose. Her stomach growled in protest. Last night’s rabbit dinner had been long ago, and she found herself suddenly famished. She was also penniless and not about to ask her uncle for money after all he’d used up making her bracelet. Breakfast would have to wait.

  Most of the people wandering the streets seemed to be there more to experience the sight, tastes, and smells than for any real business. Ember’s mother would have called them “rubber-eyed” because they bounced from place to place and never bothered to settle. Marda hated how people wasted their time like that, as she had lost many an afternoon presenting horses to potential buyers who browsed the stalls just for entertainment. Ember could understand a small measure of her mother’s feelin
gs, seeing desperate vendors who were consistently passed by.

  Seeing them reminded her of the conversation with Ian. “Uh, Uncle? Can I talk to you about something?”

  “Certainly,” he said, obviously distracted as he scanned the booths to both sides, then stepped to the nearest food vendor and purchased three turkey legs and a large bowl full of vegetables. Ember’s mouth watered as he handed her a portion, but she didn’t eat.

  “This is serious. Can we stop for a second?”

  Shad cocked an eyebrow, but nodded. She and DeMunth followed as he stepped between two tents and turned to face them.

  “Speak, but quickly, please. If we’re to get decent rooms, we must hurry to the council house before it fills up. I don’t know about you, but I’d like a private shower.”

  Ember’s skin began to itch at the mention of a shower, so she spoke fast. “I literally ran into Ian up there, and he saw the cuffs.” She relayed her conversation with Ian, finishing with, “I said the boy was planning to make a fortune selling his ‘pretties’ at the trials, and Ian would be able to find a booth selling them.” Ember watched as Shad’s eyes widened.

  “You told him you got them from a vendor? They’d be sold here?” She overheard him processing in his head how long it would take to make enough bracelets to sell at a place like this. DeMunth laughed out loud. Shad’s eyes flashed, rueful.

  “I’m sorry. It just popped out before I had a chance to think. What are we going to do?” Ember pulled at her lip in agitation.

  Shad dragged a hand down his face, his stubble scratching with sound, then nodded. “We might be able to use this to our advantage. If people start to buy and wear the bracelets, even if we further change your appearance, he will be less suspicious. Besides, it will grow our monies as well. Don’t worry—I’ll take care of it. Is that it?”

  Ember nodded, relieved her uncle wasn’t mad at her for messing things up.

  “What magics have you manifested yet? Any of the orange?” he asked, taking Ember completely by surprise.

  “Orange? There’s orange magic?”

  Shad sighed and shook his head. “Your education has been decidedly lacking, my dear.”

  Ember blushed, but laughed. He was right.

  The issue of Ian and the bracelets resolved, Ember finally dug into the food that Shad provided, her stomach thanking her for the sustenance. The three of them left the privacy of the alley and made their way toward the large building Ember had spotted from the top of the cliff. She could smell the water in the air as they got closer to the western wall of the Javak shelf, and by the time they left the alley of tents, the sound of a waterfall greeted her ears like nature’s music.

  As they stepped clear of the buildings, Ember’s mouth dropped open in awe at the sight before her. The largest building she had ever seen thrust up from the water, like an island reaching for the sky. It was U-shaped, with the base of the U facing the cliff and the sides nudging against the rock face. The building looked to be made of light-colored stone with marbled streaks of pale and dark blue slashing through it. The stone was beautiful, but it was not what caught Ember’s breath. The thing that held her was the waterfall that leaped and tumbled down the sheer side of the mountain and, with a thunderous roar, poured into the building itself. It was the most amazing thing she had ever seen.

  A bird screamed overhead. She glanced up, stunned to see the white hawk from Karsholm circling over what appeared to be the council house. There was no doubt in her mind it was the same bird. It was the only white hawk she had ever seen or heard of. Somehow magic marked the hawk. How else could all the color have been bleached from it? Shivers flowed over her. Was it following her? For a moment, she wanted to be afraid, wondering if perhaps it was through the bird C’Tan had found her, but true fear would not come. The bird always seemed to be nearby, but it had never harmed her, not once. It seemed more of a guardian than anything.

  A deep growl came from the right. Ember glanced over in time to see a dog staring at Uncle Shad, teeth bared and hackles up. She stopped, heartbeat jumping to high speed once more.

  Shad snorted. “Stupid dog. They catch the scent of wolf and go into defensive mode.” He stopped and glared at the animal, a growl coming to his own throat that sounded strangely canine for his human form. The dog’s head lowered, but it held its ground. A man came up behind the animal and scratched its head, a menacing smile creeping across his face. He turned to speak to someone behind him.

  Ember caught just a glimpse of Ian stepping into the alley before Shad grabbed her arm none too gently and guided her toward the council house. “Come on. Let’s get you someplace out of sight before he verifies your identity. We need that booth set up soon to get him off your trail.”

  Ember nearly ran across the floating path and into the council house.

  As they stepped through the double doors, a flowery man greeted them from behind a massive desk. He was all movement and bobbing, like a sunflower in the breeze. “Welcome to the council house, Councilor White Shadow,” the man said, stepping around the corner and bowing to Uncle Shad. Councilor DeMunth.”

  “And how are you faring, Siedow?” Shad asked, extending his hand to the houseman as if what happened outside was of no matter.

  “Doing well, thank you.” The man took Shad’s hand with his fingertips. “And you?”

  “Fine, indeed.” Shad released his hand. “Might you have some rooms available?”

  “Certainly, councilors. Follow me, please.”

  Ember’s mind was still trying to wrap around the implications of what their greeter had said. Her feet seemed to have rooted to the ground, and everyone had taken several steps before she was able to catch her breath enough to follow them. They were councilors. Uncle Shad and DeMunth were part of the Mage Council? That knowledge completely pushed aside her worry about Ian and the dog.

  She shook her head as she trailed behind them. This explained a lot about their business here, but made her feel rather insignificant. And how did a shapeshifting wolf and a mute ex-priest end up on the Mage Council, anyhow? No wonder they had brought her to the council house. This really was their home away from home. Ember felt smaller with each step she took. What was she doing here?

  Their greeter and guide walked very lightly, with a swish to his hips and fluttery hands. He seemed everything a good houseman should be—gentle, soft-spoken, and he had an excellent memory, as shown by remembering Uncle Shad and DeMunth’s names.

  The houseman led them to two rooms at the end of the south wing, one right next to the other. “I apologize, but we are out of rooms with a private bath, though the public bath is certainly available. Will that be a problem?” He looked at Shad and DeMunth, completely ignoring Ember. She shrank a little further into herself.

  ‘Uh, no,” Shad said, glancing at Ember apologetically. “We’ll manage, thank you. This is my nephew, Emben. Might you have a guest room available for him?”

  Siedow examined Ember, his head cocked to the side as he pursed his lips and looked her up and down. She fought the blush that sprang to her cheeks. The man noticed and smiled, not unkindly. “I believe we have room just down the hall. Here for the trials?”

  Shad nodded, and Siedow’s smile grew.

  “Wonderful! Follow me then, Emben. We’ll get you settled in no time.” The man moved off without giving her a moment to say goodbye. She glanced nervously at Shad. He nodded and motioned for her to follow. “I’ll meet up with you later. Don’t worry, we’ll find you a bath.”

  Ember nodded, and in no time at all had come to her own room. It was small, but very nice, with intricate wood carving on the bedposts, mirror frame, and around the door.

  “Do not lose this,” the man said emphatically, and touched the satchel she still held from registration. He took it from her hands, opened it, and dumped the contents on the bed. He separated them: a map, a timepiece, her meal tickets and store chits, paper and a charcoal stick, and a clear, flat stone. He held the last up to her. />
  “This is the most important item in your bag, Emben. All your messages and summons will come through this stone. It can vibrate, speak, and even write messages in its depths. Always keep it with you. The time for your trial will come quickly, with very little notice, and there are no second chances here. You make it to your assigned trial, or they send you home.”

  That was all the man said before he showed her around the room. She had a private sink and toilet, but no bath. Ember knew Shad would figure out a way for her to bathe, but she was still a little worried. She was caked with ash, and the smell emanating from her was very much akin to that of a wet dog.

  Before leaving, the man showed her the small, square panel just outside her door, made of the same material as her clear stone.

  “Place your hand here, please.” Ember did as she was told, her fingers spread across the width of the cool stone. It warmed slightly and shone a pale yellow before it faded back to its transparent state.

  “You and I are now the only ones able to enter this room. If you wish any others to have access, please see me for imprinting.” Siedow left, and Ember reentered the luxurious suite that had everything she could ever dream of having in a room.

  Everything except a bath.

  She sighed wearily, pulled off her muddy boots and travel cloak, and lay down on the bed to rest.

  She was asleep before she had time to regret her decision to become a half-man in a world of men. She had entered her dreams, and there it didn’t matter.