“I didn’t intend to steal it,” Elling said. “Once I found it, the opportunity presented itself.”
Konner nodded. The man had used his magic for good; his greed had been an afterthought. “Does your wife know?”
Elling cleared his throat. “She does not.”
“She seems very kind, and it is my greatest desire to allow her to retain the pleasant image she holds of her husband.”
“What is this all about?” Elling leaned forward, keeping his voice low. “What do you want?”
Birge replied, “In the future, we will need your help. You may tell no one about this meeting, and you must help us when we ask you to. In return, we will keep your secret.”
“Help you with what?
“We cannot disclose that,” Konner said. “I can, however, assure you it will be for the greater good.”
Elling stood and walked to the fireplace, unlit due to the warmth of the evening. He placed his hands on the mantel, leaning forward. A minute later, he turned around, his shoulders square. “I want in on it,” he said.
Konner raised his eyebrows. “On what?”
“On whatever you’re doing. I’m assuming it’s something . . . profitable. You may already know this, but I’m unsure how much longer I can make payments on my mortgage. My wife and children deserve to be kept in a certain style. Please. Let me be part of it.”
Konner’s eyes found Birge’s. She raised her eyebrows and gave a small shrug. It wasn’t exactly a ringing endorsement. “I’m sorry, Vellish,” Konner said. “At some point we will need your help, but at the moment, we do not.”
Elling took a step forward, crossing his arms. “Metal isn’t the only thing I can scent, you know.” Konner cocked his head, and Elling continued, his voice low. “I can scent black powder.”
Forcing himself to take a long, slow breath, Konner crossed his legs and folded his hands loosely, as if he were having a casual chat with a friend. “Why do you think we would want black powder?”
“Just a hunch.”
Konner shrugged. “My understanding is it’s stored under the tightest security underneath the offices of two mining companies. Even if we had any interest, there would be no feasible way to retrieve it.”
Konner kept his expression bland, but his heart was beating at a brisk pace. Black powder. He’d dreamed about getting his hands on such a product. But it was a dangerous explosive, and the Corminian government regulated its production and storage. It was used only for mining, quarrying, and other occasional excavations. The security around powder stores was heavier than that around the Corminian Treasury.
Elling sat with Konner and Birge again, his eyes wide and intense. “The government controls another store of black powder,” he said. “I can only presume it’s kept in case of war. And the security around it appears to be far less than that around the mining companies’ stores. Again, all I have is assumptions, but I would guess they know anything heavily guarded isn’t kept secret for long.”
Birge spoke up. “You know about it because of your scent gift?”
Elling nodded. “My grandfather was a mine foreman. When I was a young man, he allowed me to observe the blasting process. It was illegal for me to be there, but he wanted me to develop an interest in mining. I picked up the scent of black powder, and years later, I was tracking a stolen sword and came across the scent again, at a place it shouldn’t have been.”
“How do you know it’s still there?” Birge asked.
“I confirmed it, as recently as three weeks ago. I’ve been considering bringing it up to the rest of the council; it seems dangerous to store such a substance with so little security.”
Konner asked, “Where is it?”
Elling leaned forward. “I want in.”
Konner had expected this answer and would have been disappointed if the man had given up his secrets too easily. He smiled and leaned forward. “Vellish, have you ever read any of the ancient epics?”
Two hours later, Vellish Elling agreed to join the Grays. Konner would instruct Ash to take Elling on a short trip to one of the small towns Ash and Aldin had visited the year before. The two men had kept notes on elderly and sickly Blessed in the places they’d traveled through. Surely one of those aging men or women was ready to meet Sava in Senniet. Elling would get his gray awakening, and he promised that as soon as he had it, he would show Konner the secret powder stash.
Another Gray councillor. A secret stash of black powder. The possibilities danced in Konner’s mind like dry leaves in a whirlwind, and as he left the house, he couldn’t repress a smile.
Chapter Eight
He won each battle, ev’ry fight,
Before he lost at Shepherd’s Glen.
When Relin fell from such a height,
He swore he’d never fight again.
-From Relin the Fierce, Author Unknown
Tavi trudged up the stairs of the midwife house, along with the other sun-blessed students. Physical training had worn them out. Officer Andisis had welcomed Tavi back without commenting on her early exit the day before, and Tavi had followed his instructions, finding that training two-on-two was more tolerable than she had expected.
At the top of the stairs, the students gathered around a paper posted on the wall next to the open door of the practicum room. Tavi slipped to the front of the group. The list was written in Ellea’s neat script, and halfway down was a line reading, “Tavi: Free practice.”
Tavi allowed a small smile to tug on her lips. She hadn’t had reason to activate her magic in the six days since Misty’s death, and she was surprised to realize she was looking forward to it.
As she pondered which gift would be most satisfying to use, she entered the room and watched the other trainees. Narre was working on a stone sculpture of a tree. The project had taken all her practicum time for several weeks. With her touch gift, she broke off tiny pieces of rock, teasing out fine details. The leaves and bark were taking shape, more intricate and beautiful by the day.
Sall followed a young apprentice midwife out of the room, likely to offer understanding and comfort to a laboring woman or a new mother. This type of work, normally done by women, had initially felt strange to Sall. But Tavi knew he’d found real joy using his gift in such a way.
Tavi’s eyes wandered to Tullen, and she found him watching her. He gave her a smile before looking away. A moment later, his ears shone with magic. His recent practicums had focused on deciphering sounds and voices at long distances.
A young student caught Tavi’s eye. The girl was only twelve and had awakened the week before. So far, she’d found it impossible to activate her sight gift during training. It reminded Tavi of how she had felt when her magic was uncooperative during those early weeks after her own awakening. Tavi heard a sound come out of her chest—a light laugh. It caught her off-guard; it was the first time she’d laughed since Misty’s death.
That thought jolted Tavi out of her reverie, and she closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. She would activate her sight gift. She needed to see the body heat of the people around her. It was proof they were alive, and she needed to experience life, if only through her gifted eyes.
Tavi tried to pinpoint something she desired so she could focus on it and activate her magic. But her feelings for Tullen were confusing at best; at the moment they didn’t include desire. And Misty’s pickles, those sweet and tangy delights Tavi so often wanted, now repulsed her.
Desire isn’t part of my life right now. But that wasn’t true. There was one thing Tavi desired above all else, one hopeless thing. Misty.
Memories crashed into Tavi’s mind, like waves at high tide. She saw herself as a little girl, playing dress-up in Misty’s clothes. She listened to Misty conversing with the barmaid in Benton about breadmaking. She felt her big sister’s arms, heard her laugh, smelled her soap.
Desire saturated every memory, yet Tavi felt no magic. She redoubled her efforts, inviting magic to fill her whole body, not just her eyes. She pi
ctured Misty’s exuberant smile, and she yearned with all her heart to see that joyful face again.
Tavi felt not one drop of magic. It was as if every bit of her gifting had fled her body. She again invited memory after memory of Misty to fill her mind. Sava, if you can’t give me my sister back, at least give me my magic! But the warm light of her gift remained hidden.
By the time Tavi realized she was crying, it was too late to prevent it. Tears rolled down her cheeks, and though she tried to keep her mouth closed, whimpers escaped. She opened her eyes. There was enough noise in the room that only a few nearby trainees seemed to have noticed her. One of them asked if she was all right. Tavi didn’t answer.
A moment later, Ellea rushed over to her. The midwife glared at two staring students, and they turned away. Ellea placed her hand on Tavi’s shoulder, gently ushering her toward the exit. As they walked, Ellea activated her touch gift. Peace filled Tavi, and her crying stopped.
“I can’t activate my magic,” Tavi said when they reached the hallway. “Not even a little bit.”
“My dear girl, I’m so sorry.”
“Why won’t it work?”
Ellea swallowed hard before speaking, and she blinked a few times. “Sometimes when a sun-blessed person has an emotionally difficult experience, their magic refuses to activate for a time. But it’s still inside you. You will be able to access it again.”
Tavi had heard of that happening when a gifted person sustained physical trauma, but she hadn’t known it could happen with emotional trauma too. “When will it come back?” she asked.
“I wish I could tell you that.”
“But what can I do to make it come back?”
Ellea shook her head. “Don’t force it. Focus on doing whatever you must do to heal. Your skills will return when you’re ready for them.”
Tavi swallowed. “I have no idea how to heal.”
Ellea gave her a long look before asking, “Will you wait here a moment?” Tavi nodded, and Ellea walked back into the practicum room.
Tavi wasn’t alone for long. But it wasn’t Ellea who came back through the doorway. It was Tullen.
“I suppose Ellea told you what happened,” Tavi said.
Tullen raised his eyebrows. “She didn’t tell me anything. She merely suggested I take you for a run.”
“Why?”
“She thought it would be good for you.”
Tavi let out a long sigh. “My magic won’t work. At all.”
Tullen gave her the same look of compassion he’d worn so much over the past six days. He reached out a hand, but Tavi took a small step back. He put his hand in his pocket. “I’m sorry, Tavi.”
“Maybe Ellea wanted me to run with you so I could experience someone else’s magic, since I can’t experience my own.”
“Or maybe,” and Tullen gave her a small smile, “she simply thought a run would be good for you. Will you go with me, Tavi? It’ll be good for me, too.”
Tavi opened her mouth to decline, but “Yes” came out instead.
Tullen looked as surprised as Tavi felt, and he didn’t give her any time to change her mind. He led the way down the stairs, and they exited through the back door of the midwife house.
Tavi hopped on his back, gratified at how easy it was when her legs were clad in pants. With Tullen’s gifted feet carrying them through the streets at astonishing speeds, they soon reached the north side of town, where they entered the forest.
They ran through the shade of green trees, surrounded by sights and scents of life, and Tavi relished the tickle of the summer breeze on her skin. Even after scores of runs with Tullen, Tavi still felt like she was flying. It was strange to feel so light while carrying a dense stone of grief in her belly, but she accepted the gift.
All too soon, Tullen stopped next to a bubbling brook and set Tavi down. His hands came up to his eyes, wiping tears away. “Thank you for running with me,” he said.
Tavi nodded, and she felt a smile pull at her mouth. Tullen reached out, and she gave him one of her hands. He held it to his chest, and with his other hand, he pulled her close.
Tullen’s lips met hers, and Tavi lost herself in the kiss. She needed this, needed the peaceful thrill of it. Tullen let go of her hand, and both his arms encircled her. Tavi broke the kiss, stumbling backward. Tullen let go, but confusion was clear in his eyes.
“I can’t do this,” Tavi said, shaking her head.
“That’s fine.” Tullen held his hands up. “I’m sorry, I thought you wanted—”
“I did. But I don’t. I don’t want it now.”
They were both silent for several seconds before Tullen said, “Let’s sit.”
They did, on rocks that were smooth enough to be only slightly uncomfortable. They’d known each other too long and too well for Tavi not to explain. She was surprised to find her eyes free of tears and her breath steady. She met Tullen’s gaze and said, “When you hold me, it reminds me of when you wouldn’t let go of me . . . when you kept me away from Misty.”
Tullen’s head lowered. “Tavi, I—”
“I know. I know why you did it. But my sister is dead. I’ll always wonder if I could have done something to stop it.”
“And I didn’t let you try.”
Tavi nodded and looked down at her hands. “It’s also . . . this part will sound stupid, but I want you to understand. When you told me you’d all agreed to sacrifice yourselves for me, it felt like you were conspiring against me. Or, I don’t know, conspiring for me. This sounds ridiculous; I know it does. But you should have told me.”
“You’re right.” At that, Tavi looked up. Tullen’s gaze was sympathetic. “We should have told you. I’m sorry we didn’t.”
“Thanks,” Tavi whispered.
Tullen cleared his throat. “You may not like some of what I’m about to say. I’ll say it anyway. I can’t be sorry for keeping you away from your sister. The Grays would have taken you or killed you if you’d gone to her. And I can’t be sorry that I’m one of a group of people who will give up their own lives to save yours. I know I told you we made that decision because your gifts are necessary to fight the Grays. That was true. But in my case, and in Misty’s case, we both would have made that commitment if you had no magic at all. And you know why, Tavi. It’s because Misty loved you. And it’s because I—”
“Stop!” The volume of Tavi’s voice surprised her, and she lowered it to say, “Please don’t, Tullen.”
Tullen flinched as if she’d slapped him. They had not said they loved each other, not out loud. They’d talked about it (a conversation Tavi had found strange and awkward), and they’d agreed to wait. Tavi was still young. They would enjoy each other’s company, and once they were both older, they might be ready for a more serious commitment. But now Tullen was looking at her with such sadness and intensity and, yes, love. Tavi wished someone would enter the forest and interrupt them.
“I’ve wanted to say it for a long time,” Tullen said. “After what happened last week, I see no reason to wait to say something so important.”
Tavi’s tears, absent for longer than she would have expected, returned. She let them fall. And she held Tullen’s gaze as she said, “I can’t do this anymore, Tullen.”
“Do what?” he asked, but the naked dread on his face told her he’d already guessed the answer.
“Everything changed between us last week,” Tavi said, speaking words she’d somehow known were coming for days, though she hadn’t allowed herself to think about them. “I’ve given you so much of my heart. And I don’t regret that. But I can’t give you my heart anymore.” A sob inserted itself into the air between them, and Tavi barely managed to choke, “I’m sorry.”
“Oh, Tavi.” It was all he said, but she read so much more than that in the shaking hands that ran through his hair; the shoulders that curled inward, seeming half as wide as usual; the silent tears that ran down his cheeks.
“I’m sorry,” Tavi said again.
It was quiet then, a
nd they both found something to look at besides each other. After several minutes, Tullen asked, “Do you think, in the future—?”
“I don’t know.”
“I still want to be your friend.”
Tavi’s throat constricted as she again said, “I don’t know.”
Tullen’s eyes squeezed closed, and his forehead compressed into sharp wrinkles. Then he opened his eyes, looked at Tavi, and said, “You need friends right now. Please spend time with Narre. Please let her be your friend.”
Tavi put both hands over her mouth and pressed her lips together, trying to hold back an urge to lose herself in hysterical weeping. She wasn’t sure why Tullen’s words affected her the way they did, but she nodded her assent, her eyes meeting his.
Tullen stood. “Can I carry you? It would be a long walk.”
Tavi nodded again. She hopped on his back, and Tullen ran. To Tavi, it felt faster than usual, full of reckless leaps over roots and rocks. But Tullen’s footing was sure, carrying them all the way to the back door of the midwife house. They walked inside, and he didn’t mention the wet fabric on his shoulder, where Tavi’s tears had fallen.
Chapter Nine
RELIN: We fight not for our honor, though that would be sufficient. We fight not for our nation, though we love her. No, my soldiers, my friends. We fight for our wives! For our children! For our parents, our brothers, our sisters! For them we fight, and for them we win!
-From Relin: A Play in Three Acts by Hestina Arlo
Camalyn Hunt stepped out of the house and walked down the sidewalk, the summer sun soaking into her black Karite robes and veil. The air was humid, and she’d started sweating as soon as she’d put on her detestable costume.
She walked calmly through the city until she reached Silverstone Avenue, then proceeded to the second-biggest house on the street. Only Konner’s home, three doors down, was larger.
She rapped on the door, and it was opened by a tall, thin woman wearing clothing just like Camalyn’s. The two women gave each other a hug, and Camalyn entered, following her hostess to the home’s ballroom.
Facing the Gray Page 6