by Halie Fewkes
“I am sick to death of bickering,” Prince Avalask snarled, his dangerous voice inviting no argument. “I’m going to bed, and we’ll approach Tarace in the morning. If you don’t want to help, then go home.”
Prince Avalask waved a hand, and Archie disappeared from the room, causing a startled stir among the rest of us.
“Where did you send him?” I asked, getting quickly to my feet.
“Were you not listening?” Prince Avalask snapped back, all his usual patience gone. “I sent him home.”
“Send me too,” I said. “I’ll talk sense into him.”
“You’re not going to change his mind about how dangerous this is,” Prince Avalask said. “And the last thing I need is for him to change yours.”
“I’m as bullheaded as they come!” I exclaimed, drawing a few amused snorts from around the room, quickly stifled. “You just sent him to the Dragona where the Zhauri are living, where Sir Avery visits. He shouldn’t be there alone. Send me too.”
“Fine,” Prince Avalask grumbled, rubbing at his eyes one last time. “The Zhauri are in the Dragona’s east wing, near the cave where the third Everarc was found, but they’re living in the northeastern caves. Talk to Archie and avoid the Zhauri until morning, and I’ll come find you both after I get a few hours of sleep. Remember why we’re doing this.”
Chapter Nineteen
Ebby
Spying
Tracking
Mind Reading
Thought Blocking
Mental Manipulation
Voice Throwing
Illusions
Levitation
Shields
Intentions
Jumping
White Destruction
Black Destruction
Fire
Ice
Lightning
Cancelling Magic
Speed
Strength
Earthquakes
Motion Stops
Telekinesis
Invisibility
Shading
Healing
The last two weeks had been eventful to say the least. Jalia had decided to visit Ebby every afternoon to learn more about her, and strangely enough, Ebby didn’t mind talking to Vack’s most curious friend. Every night was spent with Ratuan, making maps, providing morale in the dank caves, and sharing knowledge with every new mage in the deepest, most hidden corridor they called Magic. Ebby had lots to learn and contribute among the gifted, and they’d all grown together as the weeks passed.
Then Ebby left every morning for training with Vack and Prince Avalask in a beautiful, far away field surrounded by pear trees. Prince Avalask showed up later and later every day, looking more and more exhausted, but he never explained himself and Ebby and Vack knew better than to ask.
On their first day of training, Prince Avalask had handed Ebby and Vack a list called The Twenty-five Powers of Conflict, and he’d taught them a new game every day to help master each gift. They’d raced to track wild game through the woods, run obstacle courses at incredible speeds, and learned they were both entirely inept when it came to hovering above the ground, to the point that they couldn’t make a remotely safe game of it.
Ebby’s skillset was incredibly different from Vack’s. When they learned to use fire, her flames were small and concentrated whereas Vack accidentally set the surrounding woods ablaze. Ebby could not, for the life of her, control a bolt of lightning like Vack, but when they learned to cast illusions, Vack could barely make his own shadow. Ebby could actually make things — gnarled trees with flawed leaves and intricate caterpillar nests, flowers, the illusion of flickering flames... She was a creator. Vack was a destroyer.
They’d spent three days of the past week learning to hide, playing a game called try-to-stay-invisible-while-somebody-throws-rocks-at-you. Vack thought the game was brilliant until he realized Ebby could throw a rock nearly as hard as he could, and staying invisible while dodging wasn’t easy.
Ebby sat on her glass floor and rubbed at a welt near her shoulder, smiling because she’d given Vack one that would turn an equally deep shade of purple, and then she went back to meticulously rechecking her stitches. She’d heal it later.
She even found herself humming Stitch Me a Thistle as she scrutinized the white fabric draped over her hands, feeling almost entirely at ease amid so many comforting things — a needle held between her teeth, a spool of white thread on the floor to her right, a blanket across her lap to keep her warm, and Karissa’s book about Human anatomy lying open to her left.
Stitch me a thistle, a thistle or two, sew me a song and I’ll whistle for you.
This dress… this sparkling white dress was the greatest masterpiece she’d ever embellished, and after countless hours of love and labor, it was done. She’d never in her life seen anything like it.
“You left this in Vack’s room,” Jalia said, pushing Ebby’s door open with a scrap of parchment in hand.
Ebby glanced up from her fortress of comfort and spotted several lines of her own handwriting. “Oh. Thank you.”
Jalia handed her the list with a piercing, expectant stare, and then sighed. “Well? Tell me what it says.”
“It’s just a list,” Ebby said. “They’re the Twenty-five Powers of Conflict that Prince Avalask had us memorize.”
Even with her focus returned to her beautiful dress, Ebby couldn’t miss Jalia’s displeased scowl. “It is not. There are too many words.”
Ebby set her hands in her lap with a sigh. “It is the list, it’s just... Prince Avalask said Vack and I had to memorize all twenty-five, or he’d knock down the walls between our rooms. And, I mean, you’ve seen Vack’s room....” Ebby caught Jalia’s stern glance of agreement. “So I made a song of them to remember better.”
Jalia’s eyes widened and she said blatantly, “I’m impressed.” Ebby couldn’t help smiling at the things that impressed Jalia, and she glanced at her own neat, perfectly spaced handwriting. The lyrics were an embarrassment to music — simple, childish rhymes she wouldn’t show to her closest friend. Thankfully, Jalia couldn’t read the first word of them.
First you use your power that can scout the battleground,
Don’t lose sight of who’s around you, track your rivals down.
Read the minds about you, don’t forget to guard your own,
Manipulate them if you can, try not to let them know.
Distract them when you throw your voice, illusions catch their eye,
But if a battle must take place, fight them from the sky.
Keep your shield around you strong, and sense their next attack,
Jump often so you can't be hit, then throw destruction back.
Fire, ice, and lightning bolts keep enemies at bay,
Drain the mages’ magic, and remember speed and strength.
Surprise them with a shaking ground, or freeze them on their feet,
The plants can grab, the rocks can stab, but don’t forget retreat.
Make yourself invisible if ever you must flee,
Be sure to shade your whereabouts and heal your injuries.
The list didn’t include every power Ebby could use, and she was pretty sure things like mind reading and sensing intentions should have probably been combined into one power — but on the whole, the list was useful.
“Are you done with the dress?” Jalia asked. “I can bring more thread if you need.”
“No, I think I’m done,” Ebby replied, holding it for Jalia to see. Over the course of several weeks, Ebby had embroidered white flames across the entire hem, white lightning bolts striking across the chest, leafy white vines twisting around the middle, water droplets raining down between the leaves, icicles draping off the neckline, and a spider on the left shoulder, like the tattoos her Dincaran friends now proudly sported.
“I’m more impressed with the outfit you made for Vack,” Ebby replied. “Well, with the fact you got him to wear it, actually.” Because while Ebby stitched Epic powers a
round her dress, Jalia had made an equally intensive black outfit for Vack. “Is he still being a baby in his room?”
Shut up, Vack thought from across the hall, and Jalia smirked. “Yes. It took us fifteen minutes to get it on him, and now he’s looking at himself from every angle, trying to make sure he doesn’t look stupid. Will you hurry up and take that filthy old tunic off so we can see yours?”
Ebby glanced down at the torn, tattered, and indeed filthy shirt that had once reached to her knees and been painted to look like the sunset. It had once been her proudest masterpiece, and parting with it was like... parting with a huge piece of herself. This fabric had been through all her terrors and had taken even more damage than she had over the past months.
Jalia noticed her quiet contemplation and asked, “Is it rude to call your tunic filthy?” Ebby smiled at Jalia’s harsh pronunciation of the Human word. It turned out the Escalis didn’t have an equivalent for it. Also not in their language was manners, or the idea of polite society. But Jalia was at least attempting to learn Ebby’s backwards ways and values.
“Yes, I think that was the definition of rude,” Ebby said, wanting to giggle at Jalia’s perplexed stare.
“Well… I’m sorry. But move faster, will you? I want to see the dress,” Jalia said, gesturing for Ebby to get to her feet.
Ebby pushed the blanket from her lap and stood slowly, hesitating until Jalia grabbed the shoulders of her tunic and helped her remove it. Ebby slid the new dress over her head and poked her arms through the open holes at the top, pulling the fabric into place around her middle. When she looked down at herself, at the crisp, white dress that fit her so perfectly, she didn’t even feel like Ebby anymore. It was like the dirty, hopeless girl she’d come to know had disappeared and been replaced by somebody beautiful and new.
Her insides twisted, and she felt the sudden urge to tear her hard work apart and put the rags at her feet back on. This was wrong. This pretty girl wasn’t her.
Vack finally pushed through the door to Ebby’s room and she blushed because if he had been ten seconds earlier, he would have seen her changing.
Vack stopped abruptly and gaped. His black outfit had a multitude of crossing straps along the legs and around the middle to keep it cinched comfortably against him. Jalia had forgone sleeves and given him black leather bracers instead, lacing from his wrists to the spikes on his elbows. His black Epic’s gloves covered his hands. If Jalia was shooting for an intimidating look, Vack’s messy midnight hair and foggy eyes completed it perfectly.
“Wow,” Vack said. Ebby blushed harder, embarrassed to know he had even noticed what she was wearing. The burning desire to get it off turned into a desperate need.
“And wow to you too,” Jalia said, nearly skipping around behind him. “What do you think of the shoulders?” she asked, grabbing them playfully. “I made them broad. I think they make you look tough.”
Vack was trying to stifle a grin as he twisted and adjusted his black bracers. “I think I like the whole thing.”
“What do you mean you think? Of course you like it — it’s grand and spectacular. Ebby, is that considered rude, that he can’t just admit it’s wonderful?”
Ebby had no breath in her lungs with which to respond. She felt disgusting, like she was trying to cover her life in lies, masking her true self in beauty she didn’t deserve.
Prince Avalask knocked soundlessly on her obsidian door-frame. He looked exhausted, but awake enough to notice their drastic change in appearance. “Would you look at that...” He glanced between the nearly unrecognizable Epics before turning to Jalia to ask, “Would you mind having my headstone engraved with the words, ‘Prince Avalask did not approve of Ebby’s dress?’ Because her father is going to kill me, and it’s going to be your fault for bringing it to her.”
Ebby looked down at herself in horror as Jalia crossed her arms and glowered. “You knew she was making it,” Jalia said. “Why did you wait until now to say something?”
“I didn’t realize she was planning to live and fight in it-”
“Well where did you think she was going to wear it?” Jalia interrupted, holding her arms wide in exasperation. “To a ball?”
Ebby almost couldn’t believe Jalia’s audacity, and even Prince Avalask looked a bit taken aback before he chuckled at her wildness.
“I like it,” Jalia said, a flat, inarguable statement. “It’s the opposite of Vack in every way. It’s white, it’s beautiful, and Ebby’s the first Epic girl. Why shouldn’t she wear a dress?”
“For obvious reasons, I thought,” Prince Avalask said, raising his eyebrows in amusement. “Like how frequently Epics fight up in the air.”
“She’ll just move so fast that nobody can see her,” Jalia reasoned with a clever grin. “You have to let her wear it. Look how long she spent on the embroidery.”
Prince Avalask took one last look at the sparkling white designs. “I’m not saying it isn’t beautiful — I’m just asking that you put the same level of effort into my headstone. You both look distinguished.” He set a hand on his chin and considered his son again. “You and I will make quite the pair in front of the crowds next week, Vack.”
Ebby glanced between them and asked, “Crowds?”
Jalia shook Vack by the shoulder and said, “You didn’t tell Ebby it’s almost your birthday?” Jalia looked at Ebby. “Vack is turning six next week.”
“Six?” Ebby repeated.
Jalia narrowed her eyes and said, “You can’t be more than six yourself.”
Ebby gaped indignantly. “I’m almost twelve!”
Jalia shot her a scowl. “No you’re not. Who do you think you’re kidding?”
Prince Avalask seemed amused by the exchange and said, “She really is. Humans have a childhood two or three times longer than ours. It’s funny to watch. In two years, you’ll both look older than she does. In ten years she’ll look older than you again.”
Jalia gaped like Ebby had offended her by keeping this information to herself.
“I only have half an hour for training today,” Prince Avalask said, seeming distracted. “And then, Vack… I need to speak with you before you get your day started.”
Ebby saw a happy grin flash across Vack’s face before he could hide his excitement. He rarely saw Prince Avalask without her.
“You both ready to practice in your new clothes?” Prince Avalask asked.
Vack nodded as Ebby grabbed two handfuls of the fabric around her and gritted her teeth, her chin beginning to quiver. Ok, she would wear it to practice in. She would give it a chance, and then she would take it off.
When Ebby reached Ratuan this time, he was waiting at the bars of his cell as though he knew she was coming. Her legs grew wobbly and her hands began to shake like she was approaching her own death.
“Where did this come from?” Ratuan asked, trying to keep his voice even as he figured out how to react.
“I... made it,” Ebby said, her nerves nearly on fire and tears very close to the surface. “I wanted to take it off, but I don’t have anything else, and…” Her voice cracked. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t pretend to be something I’m not.”
“You look amazing.”
Ebby glanced into his eyes. “Really?”
“You look like an Epic,” he said, and Ebby’s heart lightened. “But why white on white? Nobody’s going to be able to see what you made.”
“I thought it would make a good story,” Ebby said, feeling her eyes drift to the ground with how childish her idea sounded. “Someday, people might tell their friends I got so close to the new Epic, I could see the flames on her dress.”
“You are so beautiful,” Ratuan said, and Ebby blushed once more, feeling her insides tighten with something that felt like love. “The thoughts you have, the things you make — you are just so beautiful.”
Ebby twisted her hands together and smiled, finally feeling like she could continue to wear it.
“Thank you,” she whispered, feeling more
confident when she looked back up at him. If Ratuan liked it, what else mattered? “It… makes me feel like I’m dancing, even when I’m running and fighting.”
Ratuan reached through the bars and set a hand on her upper arm, making her wince as his fingers brushed the beginnings of the dark bruise. Ratuan cringed too, like her pain hurt him even more. “Ebby... you don’t have to stay here.”
“No, it’s alright,” she said, setting a hand on his. “It was an accident. And you should see the bruise I gave Vack yesterday.” She smiled, because she’d done so well in the game they’d played. “Prince Avalask took us out in the woods, and we were tracking each other out in the trees. And Ratuan, I tricked Vack by hiding under this log and knocking a limb down behind him—”
Ratuan’s thoughts grew cold with jealousy.
“I mean, it was perfectly horrible, of course,” she quickly added, realizing her mistake too late. Training with Vack wasn’t supposed to sound fun. “But I’m still figuring out his weaknesses, and I’m… gaining their trust.”
“I see,” Ratuan said.
“Ratuan, please don’t look at me like that,” Ebby said, her limbs feeling weak. “I’m still on your side. I’d do anything for you. You know that.”
Ratuan dropped his tense shoulders and said, “I know. I’m sorry. I just worry about you. They’re trying to change you, and I don’t want you to change.”
“I’m ok,” she said with an encouraging smile, feeling relieved when Ratuan smiled back, even if it felt a little forced. “I’m not changing, just getting stronger.”
“How do you feel about bending these bars apart so you and I can take a walk?” he asked.
Ebby laughed and said, “Maybe not that strong. Can we go up to Language tonight? I love the way everyone looks at me when I can tell them what the Escali words mean.”
“Actually, I was thinking we might spend some time in our map room, just you and me.”
“Oh. Yeah, that sounds fine too,” Ebby said, grabbing Ratuan’s ink-stained hand to pull him straight through the bars.