-From Training Sun-Blessed Students by Ellea Kariana
Tullen had to wait in the cold until after dark. By that time, his stomach was growling, but he didn’t care. Relief filled him as a dozen people, some of them carrying lanterns, approached. They pushed six carts with tall, wooden sides.
“Pardon me,” Tullen said, smiling broadly at one of the women. She was middle-aged and wiry. She and her partner, probably her daughter, stopped. The others passed them by. Tullen tried to ignore the odor coming from all the carts.
“My friends and I wondered if we could enter the city with you tomorrow,” Tullen said.
The woman squinted at him, her lips pursed. “Why?”
Tullen found honesty usually worked better than any lie he could concoct. He was a terrible liar, anyway. He figured if she grew alarmed and screamed for the guards down the street, he could run faster than them. “The officers guarding the city are looking for me and my friends. We haven’t done anything wrong; we simply aren’t fond of the current leadership. I heard shovelers aren’t examined too closely when they come into the city.”
“Hmm.” She looked him up and down. “You’re right, they stay away from us. Don’t know why; we’re cleaner than they are.”
Tullen agreed with her. Her job was to shovel manure from the city streets and transport it out of town to be used as fertilizer. Yet her clothing and face appeared remarkably clean, at least from what he could tell in the light of her lantern.
She turned to her young partner. “Take the cart to the warehouse. I’ll catch up.” The girl didn’t look happy with the instruction, but she walked away without complaint, pushing the stinking cart in front of her. The woman turned back to Tullen. “I’m happy to help people who don’t like the king and queen; I don’t like them much either. But it’ll be risky. You’ll have to pay.”
Tullen had expected that. And while the Golds had some funds, they hesitated to part with any. They did, however, have something else, courtesy of Bea. He opened his pack and pulled out a cloth-wrapped item. When he pulled the fabric off and held the bottle up to the light, the woman’s face brightened.
“Haven’t had any monastery whisky in years,” she said.
“Most people haven’t; the farmer who used to donate the grain to them died two decades ago. The last of what the monks distilled back then has finally been aged and bottled. They only release a few cases a year.” Tullen carefully rewrapped the bottle, noting that the woman’s gaze didn’t leave the whiskey until it was in his pack, out of sight. “You could keep one bottle and sell the others. What do you think a bottle goes for in Savala these days; fifty chips?”
He had no idea if it was that much, but the woman responded with a grin. “Imagine what it’ll be worth in another ten years. You said you’ve got more?”
Early the next morning, Tullen, Ash, Tavi, and Narre joined with the shovelers’ caravan as it entered the city. The woman Tullen had met was concerned that more than a few extra people would catch the guards’ attention. As it was, she’d had to bring her friends in on the deal so they’d cooperate. Assuming the first group got in safely, the remaining Golds would enter the next day.
Tullen did his best to hide his anxiety, walking casually alongside the woman he’d bargained with. His eyes flitted to the guards as the little caravan approached the entrance to the city. The two men were laughing with each other, barely glancing at the shovelers. Tullen couldn’t quite suppress a shudder when he saw one soldier holding a cigar frighteningly close to the hand cannon strapped to his back.
It was strange to call this place a “city entrance,” as there were few buildings nearby. But the king (or, more likely, Konner) had placed guards on the outskirts to ensure that even the edges of the city would be monitored. Of course, this meant some privacy-conscious people put up establishments farther out than they ever would have before, or turned rural barns into inns, like the place the Golds had stayed.
The group drew closer to the guards, one of whom made a point of holding his nose as the caravan passed. Tullen found that exceptionally rude, especially considering that the empty carts weren’t even that stinky. The woman had told him they washed the carts each evening after dropping off their cargo. The other guard laughed and waved the caravan through with one arm.
And that was it. Tullen let out a long breath, and the woman next to him chuckled. When they were out of sight of the guards, the whole group stopped. As promised, Tullen gave the woman a bottle of whiskey to supplement the one he’d handed her before they’d started.
“And three more bottles tomorrow, right?” she asked.
“As long as you get my friends safely through.”
They shook hands, and the shovelers moved on. The Golds all pulled their scarves over their faces. The shoveler had insisted people would look at them too closely if they covered their faces while traveling with the caravan. Shovelers got hot doing their work all day; they’d never wear face scarves, even in the winter.
But now that they were alone, the Golds could cover up. And it was a good thing, too; Ash pointed out a safety officer in the distance.
“Let’s walk in two pairs,” Tavi said. “Less conspicuous.”
“Good idea,” Tullen said. “Do you want to walk with Narre, and I’ll walk with Ash?”
“Sure.”
Was that slight disappointment Tullen saw in Tavi’s eyes and stance? He watched her and Narre until they were halfway down the street. Then he and Ash started walking, and he mulled over the incomprehensible young woman in front of him.
He couldn’t understand her these days. In the months after Liberation Day, things had been so fun between them. She’d been affectionate, and he’d loved it. He’d thought surely they were moving toward romance again, something he’d wanted ever since she’d ended it the first time.
But Tavi had kept distance between them. She’d laughed with him while holding back her deepest thoughts. When he’d put his arm around her shoulder, she’d tucked hers around his waist. But her heart had remained hers. Any time he’d insinuated he wanted more, she’d acted awkwardly. At first, he’d thought she just wanted to take it slow, but then he’d begun wondering if he was misreading her signals.
That day in the sitting room in the monastery, she’d looked at him with unmistakable desire. He’d seen that look on her face enough times to recognize it. He’d looked at her lips and been so convinced she was about to lean in closer. That was all it would’ve taken, an inch of leaning toward him, and he would have known that was her yes. He’d have kissed her, and everything would’ve been right again.
But she’d stood and left the room instead.
He’d been angry then, for the rest of the day. And the next morning he’d woken up, berating himself for his anger. Tavi had every right to rebuff him. She didn’t owe him anything. If he’d misread her signals, he couldn’t blame her for that. Maybe physical affection felt natural to her after all the time they’d spent together. Perhaps she could keep it from turning into a desire for more. But he couldn’t.
So he’d stepped back. No more friendly hugs. No more flirtatious jokes. That day in the hallway outside Ven’s room, she’d looked so hurt. He’d hated that, but he couldn’t do friendship on her terms anymore. It was too much.
After that, they’d reached some sort of unspoken agreement. He wasn’t all that happy with it, and he got the feeling she wasn’t either. But they’d both have to get used to it. This was their friendship, fun and polite and maybe a little shallow. But at least they weren’t enemies.
So why had she lit up on the mountain the day before when he’d lifted her down from that little place she insisted on calling a “cliff”? Her magic only activated on its own when she was feeling desire. Maybe all she’d wanted was food or something, but the timing of it—he couldn’t help but hope she’d enjoyed the moment of contact as much as he had.
Tullen’s first instinct was to pursue her until she finally said yes. That was what all the flirtat
ion had been, and he’d thought it was working. He was used to going after what he wanted and then getting it.
But that hadn’t worked with Tavi, and as he kicked snow through the streets of Savala, he realized he didn’t even want it to work. At this point, if she responded, it might just mean she’d given in. Not only would that be dissatisfying to him, but he also cared too much about her to “wear her down.”
If Tavi felt pushed into a commitment, it would never last. Love wasn’t genuine if it wasn’t given freely. Whatever was holding her back, she’d have to deal with it—or not. If she finally came around, she could approach him. It was time for her to be the one to pursue what she wanted.
Tavi was strong. She didn’t always realize it, but it was undeniable. Tullen had watched her lose one of the people most precious to her, then grow from that loss. He’d watched her delve deep into her magic and use it to save herself and him. He’d watched her strengthen her relationship with her father by standing up to him, and then he’d watched her leave her family to fight for something bigger.
If Tavi decided to love Tullen, he knew she would do so with the same strength she displayed in every other part of her life. And it would overwhelm him, in the best possible way.
So he waited. And as he trudged through the streets of Savala, watching the slim girl walking half a block ahead of him, he knew the day would come when he’d need to stop waiting. Move on. He hoped—how very much he hoped—she’d come back to him before that day arrived.
Tavi was exhausted from their long walk the day before, and it took an hour to walk to the midwife house. By the time the building came into sight, she just wanted a nap. But she received a jolt of joyous energy when Benisa Kariana, the house’s head midwife, welcomed them with open arms.
“We know you’re in danger if we stay here,” Tullen said once they were inside, drinking tea. “If you prefer that we find different lodgings, we will.”
“Nonsense. We’ll just have to be careful. You can stay upstairs, just like you did before.” When they thanked her, Benisa gave them a sad smile. “This is what Pala would have done.”
Tavi fought off tears and nodded her agreement.
The next morning, when it was still dark, Tavi and Tullen left the house to meet the other Golds. It was colder than the previous day had been, and Tavi was glad for the scarf on her face.
She’d been craving time alone with Tullen; friends needed more time together than they’d had recently. And the walk was pleasant enough, but Tavi couldn’t stop thinking about how it had felt when Tullen had pulled her off that ledge two days earlier. She wanted to reach out and take his hand as they walked, but she knew that wouldn’t go over well. By the time they arrived at the same city entrance as the day before, Tavi felt like she’d taken a long drink but was still thirsty.
They stood behind a nearby building. Both of them directed their hearing gifts at the guards. One of them sounded familiar; she thought he was the one who’d had the cigar the day before. The other one was female and clearly the boss.
Tavi and Tullen listened in silence. He’d turned slightly away from her, and she studied him as well as she could, despite the darkness, his position, and the scarf on his face. She could barely make out the top of his beard above his scarf. One of his eyes glinted in the pale haze of light from a distant streetlamp. Even in the dark, Tullen had nice eyes.
She stifled a frustrated sigh and turned away, fixing her gaze on the dark sky. The moon was just a sliver, and clouds kept blowing across it.
Her eyes didn’t return to Tullen, but her mind did. Maybe she should talk to him, ask him if they could recapture the type of friendship they’d had until recently. But no, he was the one who’d backed away. For all she knew, he didn’t want any relationship at all and was just putting up with her. Had they reached that point? He didn’t act annoyed with her, but he was so good-natured; maybe he was just being nice. She was better off enjoying whatever friendship they still had. She just needed to stop analyzing it.
This time, she forgot to stifle her sigh, and Tullen asked, “You all right?”
She turned and found him watching her. Her nod must have been visible enough, because she could see the smile in his eyes before he looked away.
Through her gifted ears, Tavi heard squeaky wheels and low voices. “Sounds like our shovelers,” she said.
“It does.”
Tavi stood, rigid, wishing she could rush up and welcome her friends into Savala. But they’d see each other soon enough.
The female guard’s voice, loud and firm, reached Tavi’s ears. “Stop, all of you. Finlin, check the carts. Pedestrians: Line up, single file, in front of me.”
Tavi spun to face Tullen and found his panicked eyes, which she was sure mirrored hers.
“Any ideas?” Tullen asked.
“How many people can you carry at once?”
“Two. Maybe three, but I wouldn’t want to bet their lives on it.”
There were five Golds in the group. Tavi let out a quiet moan of frustration.
Another voice entered Tavi’s ear. “Stay at the back of the line, and don’t talk. If Tavi and Tullen don’t come for us, we’ll run for it.” It was Sall.
“They can’t outrun a pellet!” Tavi whispered. It took time to fire a hand cannon, but the guards could get off at least one shot before the Golds made it to safety. If the guards pursued, it could be even more disastrous.
“Ravines!” Tullen said. “Just like you did at the farmhouse.”
“The guards could still shoot,” Tavi said.
Tullen paused, then said, “I can’t think of anything else.”
She couldn’t either. They ran around the building and peeked past the corner. Four shovelers with two carts had already made it through, and the female guard was talking to another pair with the third cart. The male guard was checking carts farther down the line.
Tavi closed her eyes and embraced her desperate desire for her friends’ safety. Warm magic flooded her, and she sent all of it to her feet. She did her best to ignore the multitude of sensations she received from the earth—ants, water, termites, more ants—and focused on one more desire. Tullen.
She could feel the difference right away as her magic turned from receptive to effective. It sought out cracks between the stones. She sent it into the ground in front of the female guard.
They let the third cart through. Three more, then the Golds.
Tavi tried to crack the earth between the guards and the shovelers, but her magic hit a solid wall. “Resistance!” she whispered to Tullen.
“Keep trying.”
She did, but she could feel her magic weakening, as it always did when she pushed against resistance. She stopped.
An idea entered her mind. When Narre had encountered resistance while making the pathway, she hadn’t stopped. She’d tried again, a little distance away.
Tavi shifted her magic, targeting a spot inches from her original mark. Still the ground rebuffed her magic.
The female guard, apparently tiring of longer interviews, sent the fourth cart through, gesturing with her hand cannon. An instant later, the male guard finished examining the sixth cart, then joined his boss.
Tavi tried every bit of space between the guards and the shovelers. No luck. The fifth cart rolled through, and the last two shovelers stepped forward with their cart.
Desperately, Tavi moved her target completely, urging it into the ground next to the guards instead of in front of them.
With a terrible groan, the earth opened. The reaction was instantaneous; the guards stumbled away from the ravine, but they also moved backwards. The remaining shovelers backed up in the opposite direction. A wide gap of ground now sat between the guards and shovelers, pristine and empty, only a cart occupying the space.
Tavi sent her magic there, and it eagerly entered the space between the stones underneath, splitting the earth just where she’d originally asked it to. The cart fell halfway into the new gap. Without pausing
, Tavi urged the earth to open on the other side of the guards, then behind them. Four crevasses surrounded the guards, isolating them on a tiny island of land.
Sall, Jenevy, Reba, Wrey, and Ven ran, along with all the shovelers.
“Stop!” the female guard screamed, her voice hysterical. “Finlin, match!”
A shock of panic resounded through Tavi’s body. The female guard was pointing her hand cannon directly at the fleeing Golds and shovelers. The woman must have primed the bore hole with black powder while Tavi was forming the ravines. The other guard opened his matchbox.
Tavi wanted to scream. The Golds were only halfway to the building, and other innocents were in the way too. She hadn’t released her magic, so she sent it directly underneath the guards, urging it to shake the ground at their feet.
They swayed and screamed. The male guard fell, dropping his matchbox. His colleague stayed up, still pointing her hand cannon despite her inability to aim or shoot.
The Golds sprinted at top speed, four of them arriving at Tavi and Tullen’s hiding place. But Ven wasn’t used to running. He was behind everyone else, his face nearly as red as the robes he’d recently discarded. His pace slowed even as Tavi watched. Tullen dashed out, grabbed Ven, and carried him like a baby.
Tavi ran ahead, leading the others through narrow streets and using her hearing gift to listen to the guards.
“Some of those people who were running looked familiar,” Finlin said. “Do you think they were the fugitives from those wanted posters?”
The female guard’s voice was quiet but forceful. “No.”
“It looked like them.”
“Do you have any idea how much trouble we’d be in if we let those criminals get away? Let’s agree right now, that didn’t happen.”
Facing the Fire Page 21