Nora shot her brother a quick glare and then said, “It’s a long story, but we’re so grateful to find you at home. Thank you for your generous hospitality.”
“How have you been?” Nora continued.
“Too much travel.” Teacher Worthing rubbed his knee. “And not enough time for my own studies.” He thumped the book he was looking at. “What about your family? How’s the paper business going?”
“Great,” jumped in Limar. “Our grinders are all healthy.” He glanced at Arley and puffed out his chest. “Our pulp is the best because I keep the grinders’ teeth sharp.”
Beck, his mouth still full of food, added, “I help my aunt and uncle on the farm.”
Nora couldn’t help rolling her eyes. The boys were so obvious.
“How’s Dani?” asked Arley softly.
“The same,” said Nora. “She loves the paper dolls you sent.”
Arley smiled and blushed. Teacher Worthing turned back to his book.
Nora set down her spoon. “Teacher Worthing, can I get some advice?”
He placed his marker in the book and closed it, turning his attention to Nora. “Of course, my dear girl. Ask away.”
“On the way here, we overheard a conversation.” Nora paused, not really sure how to explain. “Teacher, we saw Prince Oskal of House Dolmark in the tunnels. He and two Dolmarkian soldiers were on their way to Clove.”
Teacher Worthing’s eyes lit up. “Oh, how exciting. He must be coming to hunt. I’ve heard he is a marvelous hunter. Someday, you’ll be able to tell your children that you saw a prince.”
Nora gave a little smile. She’d be able to tell her children she’d seen two princes.
“Well, it wasn’t exactly exciting,” Beck said. “It was kind of scary.”
Limar nodded and Teacher Worthing’s eyebrows went up.
Nora fiddled with the sleeve of her tunic. “It’s just that when we overheard them, it sounded like they were coming to Clove for information about the mines.”
“Like they want to steal Ballutite,” Beck said.
“I see,” said Teacher Worthing.
“Could you help me write a letter?” Nora asked. “I feel like I should warn the Liards.”
“Trust me, Nora. House Liard doesn’t need you to warn them. They guard their stones well. It’s their only leverage against the other houses.”
“Leverage?” Limar asked.
Teacher Worthing nodded. “They need each other. No house has ever owned all the sacred stones. The royals arrange marriages or sell land in exchange for sacred stones, but they make sure no house has all seven stones at once.”
Limar scratched his cheek and leaned forward. “Why? I don’t get what the problem would be with owning all seven.”
“The old religion says that great power will be given when all seven stones are brought together.” Teacher Worthing shrugged. “It’ll never happen. It takes years to find and mine a sacred stone, and then they wear out from the constant infusion pulls. I don’t think any house will ever be strong enough to own all seven stones at once and test the old legends.”
“I thought the nobles didn’t believe in the old religion,” Beck said.
“They don’t believe exactly,” Teacher Worthing said, rubbing his beard. “It’s more like a fear. They’ve heard the claims that the stones are alive..”
“I know the stones have power,” said Nora, “but do you actually believe they’re alive?”
“Absolutely,” said Teacher Worthing. “The whole earth is alive. That’s why I study the tunnels. I believe that with careful mapping we could show that the tunnels are moving.”
“But,” Nora said slowly, “you don’t think we need to warn the Liards?”
Teacher Worthing shrugged his shoulders. “The nobles are always on the brink of war. One house is always attempting to steal another’s stones. Warn them if you want to, but the chance that a peasant girl’s letter will be taken seriously is slim.”
“Oh,” Nora said. She thought about how she would feel if she sent Prince Kyn a letter and he threw it away.
Teacher Worthing went back to his book. The boys vied for Arley’s attention while they finished their soup, but Nora sat deep in thought.
Once everyone had finished their meal, Arley stood to clear the table, and the boys, eager for her company, grabbed dishes and followed her to the kitchen.
Nora waited until the boys were gone before bringing up the bad news. “Teacher Worthing . . . I accidentally lost the book you lent me on revars.”
Teacher Worthing frowned. “I’m really sorry to hear that.” He set his book down and rubbed a hand over his face.
The room was quiet.
“I’m so sorry,” Nora said. “I know what your books mean to you.”
“That one was irreplaceable—one of a kind.”
“I’m sorry,” repeated Nora, looking at her feet.
Teacher Worthing sighed and nodded. Nora stared at a row of stitches that were binding a tear in the tablecloth. Some things couldn’t be mended. She could feel the depth of her teacher’s disappointment. Would he ever trust her again? Still, she needed his advice.
She took a big breath and forced herself to sit up straighter. “Teacher Worthing?”
“Hmm?” asked Teacher Worthing absently, already looking back at his book.
“We’re on our way back from Toren.”
He looked up. “You three went to Toren on your own?”
“Yes,” said Nora. “We were actually in Tunnel Clove when we overheard the Dolmarkians.”
“Why on earth were you in Toren?” Teacher Worthing asked.
Nora got up from the table, retrieved her knapsack, and pulled out Dani’s revar. “We went there for this.” She set the flask down on the table. Her heart raced. Teacher Worthing had been the one to tell her that her cooking powers were special. Would he approve of her work?
“What’s this?” He looked at her, eyebrows raised.
“We snuck into the palace kitchen in the middle of the night.”
Teacher Worthing’s mouth fell open. “You snuck inside the palace?”
“We did.”
“What were you thinking, Nora? If you’d been caught, you would have been imprisoned.”
Nora pushed the flask closer to him. “I felt compelled to do it.”
“Compelled?”
“To help Dani. I followed the instructions in your book to make this revar.”
Teacher Worthing leaned forward and gave her a kind smile. “Only highly trained concoctors can pull from the sacred stones. And no concoctor has made a revar in centuries. That knowledge has been lost. Some doubt it even existed at all. The book you lost was ancient and one of a kind, but it isn’t the answer to making revars. It had been in the possession of House Dolmark. Their concoctor tried the directions and said nothing happened. They sold the book to me for a pittance. I’m afraid it’s an old relic is all.”
Nora uncorked the flask. “I pulled from the Ballutite. I felt something draw out of it.”
Teacher Worthing shook his head but pulled the flask to his nose. He swirled it, sniffed it, and then looked up at Nora. “You’ve certainly made something. May I try it?”
“Just a sip. I need it for Dani.”
He lifted the leather flask to his mouth and pursed his lips, drawing in a small swallow. Nora didn’t take her eyes off him for a second. She watched as he set the flask down and turned to look at her.
“Stone’s heat,” he said. “Stone’s heat!”
Teacher Worthing rubbed his chest, stood up, and abruptly sat back down. “I feel it, I feel the stone’s heat. Every book I’ve ever read on concocting says that a well-made concoction allows you to feel the heat of the stone.”
“So, you think it’s a revar?” Nora asked, leaning forward.
He sprang to his feet and walked around the table without even the slightest limp. “My knee. It’s healed.”
Nora almost laughed at the look of shock on her teacher’s face.
“You . . . you’ve made a revar,” he spluttered as he sat back down.
Nora grinned.
“How?” he asked.
She leaned forward. “I could feel the stone. I pulled from it. It was almost like I was telling the Ballutite about Dani, and it responded. It answered my call and released its strength for her.” Nora paused, grasping for the words to describe what had happened in the palace kitchen. “It was like it willingly gave itself up.”
Teacher Worthing clutched Nora’s hand in his. “So it’s true.”
“What’s true?”
“The stones really are alive. I knew it.” He squeezed her hand a little too tightly in his excitement. “This is a gift from the earth, Nora.”
“What do you mean?” asked Nora, gently pulling her fingers away to keep them from being crushed.
“The old religion preached that the earth gave the sacred stones to us as a gift.”
“Oh,” said Nora. She had never thought of the sacred stones that way before.
Teacher Worthing began waving his hands emphatically as he spoke. “Some of the old texts talk about everything having both a physical form and a spiritual form. The stone’s spirit is what you were feeling.”
“Its spirit?”
“Right.” Teacher Worthing clasped his hands and leaned forward. “The part of something that makes it alive.”
Nora scooted back in her seat. “What I felt was a pull. It was like a connection to the Ballutite.”
“You felt the stone’s heat, its spirit. The power and life of the stone,” he said, his voice getting faster as he spoke. “You could be a phenomenal concoctor. Maybe the most powerful one ever.”
“But . . . I don’t want power.”
“Do you have any idea—any at all—how valuable this power is? What it’s worth?”
Nora shook her head. “I’m not sure I want to use it again,” she said, her voice soft. “It frightened me.” She paused and tried to formulate her thoughts. “It felt too big for me. Too all-encompassing.”
“Listen to me, Nora. Your power is a gift from the earth. It’s not meant to be ignored.” Teacher Worthing rubbed his healed knee as if to emphasize his point. “Embrace it. Rise to your full potential. You must train to become a concoctor. It doesn’t matter for which house. Any of them would love to have you. Just think of the wealth and knowledge that is at your fingertips.”
Teacher Worthing stood and began pacing across the room. “I would recommend that you choose your house by picking what kind of revars you want to make.”
“What do you mean?” Nora asked.
“You’ve made a revar from Ballutite, one that heals. But the other houses have intriguing possibilities too. With House Hambline’s Eqatite, you could make revars of phenomenal patience. The kind of patience that endures anything.”
His eyes gleamed. “House Bindrender is where I would choose. Imagine the knowledge you could gain from a revar made from Volite. House Dolmark would be tempting as well. You could make revars of Apalotta with potent powers of persuasion. And I’ve heard they have more sacred stones than any other house—if the rumors are true—with five of the seven.”
Teacher Worthing stopped pacing and smiled at Nora. “The possibilities are tremendous. I’ll help you.”
“I could never leave my family to become a concoctor.” Nora turned away her gaze. “They need me.”
“My dear, this revar is absolutely priceless. You could sell this flask alone,” he lifted the flask off the table, “and your family would immediately be able to buy your own land and rise from the peasant class.”
Nora shook her head. “No, it’s to heal Dani. It’s not for sale.”
“Of course. This one is for Dani, but if you train, you could make another, and another after that. Change the course of your life. Change the course of your family’s life. As a concoctor you could pay for Dani and Limar to go to school full time. Your mother would never have to spend another day making paper.”
“I don’t know,” Nora said. “I just want to go home.”
Teacher Worthing sat back down and slowly handed her the flask. “You have a power that could be used for tremendous good, Nora.”
But then she would have to live and work with royals. What if she had to live at a palace with Prince Oskal? She grimaced. Her thoughts shifted to Prince Kyn. What would it be like to concoct for him?
No. Nobles, even cute ones with dimples, couldn’t be trusted.
“I wouldn’t want to use my power for some noble’s whim,” she said.
Teacher Worthing leaned toward Nora. “The royals don’t control their concoctors. It’s a balance. It’s a mutually beneficial relationship where the concoctor has power over the nobles’ stones.”
Nora remained quiet.
Teacher Worthing continued. “The earth doesn’t give gifts lightly. If you’ve been given enough power to make revars, the earth will expect you to use that power.”
“Can a peasant even become a concoctor, though?” asked Nora.
“As far as I know they can, but the training and selection processes are kept very quiet. I believe there are always a handful of concocting apprentices being trained by each house. Those apprentices then go to work for other nobles. When a palace’s concoctor retires, the royal family chooses a trusted former apprentice to come back and fill the position of concoctor.”
“They choose the one they trust the most? Not the most gifted?”
He nodded. “Trust. It’s essential for your concoctor to be both skilled and trustworthy. Think of the evil a concoctor could do if they wanted to play with the body and emotions of a royal. You must be able to trust your concoctor with your life.”
“I don’t want to be a concoctor,” Nora insisted.
“Please, at least think about what I’ve said.”
Nora nodded slowly. She’d think about it, but she couldn’t imagine living in a palace or working for a royal family. She belonged in her little cottage in Glynlea, making paper, cooking for her family, and exploring the quarry. That was enough for her. She looked at the flask. She needed to get it to Dani before something happened to it. They needed to earn their silver and get home.
Chapter Eight
Ulabet’s Map
Shortly after lunch, Sir Ivin arrived at the stables. He looked calm and respectable in his simple, green uniform. Kyn showed the soldier their supplies, and Sir Ivin simply nodded.
They mounted their pacs, and Kyn grabbed a handful of the animal’s thick hair. King Arnald stood alone, watching from the palace steps. The queen had refused to see them off. She would not, as she had put it, “support this foolhardy and dangerous escapade.” Kyn didn’t care. He was just grateful to be going at all.
Kyn watched as Sir Ivin saluted the king. Sir Ivin’s head was shaved, giving him the look of a square stone. He was a solid, muscly mass of dependability. Kyn sighed. With Sir Ivin along, his mother had nothing to worry about.
Finally, the two soldiers were on their way. They rode to the outskirts of Toren where Kyn directed his pac off the main road and onto a rugged, cobblestone street. The dwellings around them gradually changed from beautiful, pastel buildings to simple, grey stone cottages.
“Where are we headed, Your Highness?” asked Ivin.
“To visit an old friend,” said Kyn.
Ivin raised his eyebrows but didn’t say anything. Kyn sat up taller, trying to look as regal as he could on a pac. The pac’s broad back and stocky legs were ideal for navigating the tunnel trails, but t
hose same features gave the animal a jolting, less-than-majestic look. Sometimes Kyn felt a little silly riding it.
Kyn carefully led his pac through the poor part of Toren and turned down a narrow lane. Sir Ivin followed silently. Did Ivin believe Kyn could lead a mission? How did he feel about following orders from an inexperienced seventeen-year-old? Kyn couldn’t tell from Ivin’s unvarying expression. He glanced back at the middle-aged soldier. They would be successful. Finding Nora would quiet anyone who might doubt him. Kyn shifted and sat up taller.
The houses seemed to get smaller and dirtier as they went down the lane. What had Albur said? Third door on the right? Kyn and Ivin dismounted and tethered their pacs. Kyn knocked on the thin, stone door, Ivin standing behind him.
The door opened with an awkward sluggishness, and an old woman appeared behind it. Her wrinkled face slowly filled with delight. “Prince Kyn. My dear boy,” she said. Reaching up, she caressed his cheeks, and tears filled her old eyes.
She motioned for the two of them to enter and hobbled back inside the one-room cottage. The old woman slowly turned to pat Kyn’s arm. “Never did I dream the young prince would come to visit me here,” she said.
Her cottage would fit inside his shoe closet. How could she possibly get enough light from those slits of windows?
Kyn’s earliest memories were filled with her warm cuddles and rumbly laugh. Ulabet had been his nursemaid until he was seven. The moment he had seen Nora’s map, he had recognized Ulabet’s squiggly, old-fashioned handwriting, the same handwriting that had left little notes for him on his pillow. He swallowed a lump as he looked at her. The first thing he would do after this mission was get Ulabet into a better cottage.
“Sit down,” said Ulabet. Ivin pulled a seat over for Ulabet before settling onto a simple stone chair next to Kyn. Ulabet scooted her chair closer. “How handsome and grown up you look. I thought I’d never see you again.”
Kyn covered her wrinkled hand with his. “My mother told me you’d gone to live in the country.”
Ulabet sighed. “No. The queen asked me to retire, and said she thought it was best to cut contact completely. I’m sure she knew best, but I’ve missed you.”
Nora and the Sacred Stones Page 5