The boys grabbed their envelopes. Grant stuffed his in the back pocket of his pants, while William quickly tore into his and pulled out several sheets of paper, dense with ink. “Perfect,” he said. “I'm going to look this over and compare it to my schedule. Hunter, take my place in the game while I'm gone?”
Hunter shook the awe off his face and nodded. “Sure."
"Should probably let father know he's got another student, too, if Tehya hasn't already." William headed up the stairs.
Hunter shoved away the questions William's comment spawned in his mind, and let himself focus on something fun. If only for a little bit. "What's my team?”
“How good are you at this game?” Perry asked in response.
Finn barked a laugh. “You afraid he can't cut it and you'll lose?”
“Psh!” Perry replied. “I just wanted to give you a chance." He swiped the game pieces into a pile on the far side of the table.
“You any good, then?” Dilyn asked.
“The best,” he replied automatically. Then wished he hadn't. It sounded so conceited. He'd only ever played his grandpa. But the old man had been a Kings champion when he was younger, apparently. And Hunter beat him nearly every time. So maybe he was the best.
Grant snorted. “Not around here, you aren't.”
“Could be,” Hunter challenged, deciding to stick with the bravado he came in on.
“Only one way to find out,” Finn announced. “Who's taking the gamble on him?”
Perry sized him up. “I think he's telling the truth. I'll take the action. Us against you three.”
“You just want to cover for needing to ask,” Finn jeered as Grant moved to the head of the table and Dilyn rounded the other side, pulling the game pieces with him.
Perry grinned. “Never.”
Finn rolled his eyes and reached into the pile, helping Dilyn sort the pieces as Hunter selected a chair and sat down. Immediately, he felt the weight of the last twenty-four hours settle on his shoulders. His body felt tired.
"We weren't expecting the girls tonight," Dilyn said. "But I guess you'd be why they're here?"
Hunter shook off his lethargy and sat up straighter. "Actually, I think they were headed here when we met."
"When you met? You weren't at the house with them?" Grant asked.
"No, we met on the road," Hunter said, though it suddenly felt more like an admission than a statement.
More than one pair of eyebrows drifted upward.
"Rockwood Pass?" Dilyn asked.
Hunter nodded.
"You were out there on your own?" Finn's tone was disinterested, but Hunter thought he must always sound that way, because Finn's eyes were trained eagerly on his face.
Hunter hesitated. Here was the test. He could tell them, or he could lie. They were Tehya and Ariana's friends, and he felt like he could trust... well, Tehya at least. But he knew nothing about them. He had to trust someone or he'd never get the answers he needed. He just couldn't mess up again and get himself in any more trouble with the Huntsmen. "I, uh... yeah. It wasn't my plan to be, but yeah," he answered haltingly. There. Something not quite a lie and not quite the truth. Before they could question him further, he added, "What's with Ariana and her mom?"
"If you mean tonight, who knows," Perry said. "But in general? She's into things her mother doesn't approve of."
"Like what?" he asked, only mildly surprised by this. She seemed the kind of girl who was a challenge for her parents.
"Like the book, Hunter," came Tehya's voice, grave and quiet.
He turned to see her coming down the stairs. She looked a little pale and upset.
"Oh. We're telling him that?" Dilyn asked her, a warning tone under his breezy question.
"Yes," was all she said. It was kind, but firm, and left no room for further questions.
"They still at it?" Grant asked.
She shook her head. "Madame Emory is in the studio with father. Ariana will be down in a little while. She... needed some space.”
“Even from you?” Perry seemed amazed.
“Yeah, well. You know how she can be after her mother goes at her," Tehya's expression was part annoyance, part resignation. "Anyway, Wil caught me on the stairs. Said he needed my help prepping dinner, since there's more of us eating tonight than he'd planned.”
“Three more shouldn't overwhelm him,” Grant scoffed.
Tehya squirmed, unconsciously twirling the ends of her hair around her palm. “Five more,” she said, almost an apology. “Father and Madame Emory are joining us.”
There was silence a moment, then Perry said, “Well. That won't be awkward."
Chapter 6
Ariana slowly pushed herself to her feet and slid her sleeve across her cheeks. The tears had dried. How long had she been in this room? One hour? Two? Her sobs had shuddered through her and dissipated, leaving her numb and empty and exhausted. She'd cried herself out curled in the middle of the floor. But as the tears lessened, her resolve grew.
Now, more than anything, she was determined. The numbness was still there, and it helped her to think. She couldn't let go of her dream that easily. And she definitely wasn't going to stay in the room all night, upset about circumstances she couldn't change.
Before she had taken her anger out on Tehya—snapping at her about Hunter—her friend had mentioned dinner. There was bound to be something to eat downstairs by now. She was going to fill some of this emptiness with food and then figure out a way around this. It felt impossible. But then she thought of the words her father had written on the inside cover of his earliest journal; "Impossible" is not just a word. It's a challenge. I just have to be brave and determined enough to accept it. He'd written in that journal when he was studying to become the Proficient of Portal Book Writing—the Master of Words. She knew every inch—every word—of that book by heart. And her mother had threatened to burn it.
The tantalizing scent of dinner and the sounds of conversation greeted her as she left the room and descended the steps.
Picking out an unfamiliar accent among the voices, it took her a moment to recall Hunter's name. She glimpsed him through the bannisters as she descended.
He leaned against the column at the start of the steps, talking quietly with Dilyn, who sat a few stairs up, eye-level to him.
"She knows how to read the banned books?" Hunter asked.
Ariana slowed, then crouched out of sight to listen.
"Yeah. Read them, write them," Dilyn answered.
"So she can recognize where one comes from?"
"Absolutely."
Ariana felt a warmth of pride at her friend's confidence.
"Even from Earth?"
Dilyn snorted. "If there ever was one. Yeah. I suppose."
Ariana furrowed her brows. Earth? Why would he ask that? That world had closed itself off from the others long before Falken Fyrenn ever burned the portals out of circulation.
"Is that not—actually, never mind. How much would you say one of those would be worth? A book like that?"
Ariana pressed a hand to her chest in realization. Hunter thought he'd lost his Scales. Now here he was, asking the worth of a book to Earth. That was where the portal book led? Earth? But how? How had he gotten his hands on one? No one had come or gone to that world in a lifetime, as far as she knew. Yet here this strange boy was, from a world that sounded made-up, carrying around a broken... No. She stiffened with realization. A half-broken portal book to Earth. A one-way ticket to Ionia. He had lied in the Pass. He was from Earth. Not Kansas. Earth! How? Why? Was there even enough etâme left to power a portal from there?
She needed to take a closer look at that book. But it was back in his possession. Gorse. She never should have handed it to Tehya.
"Ariana," Dilyn's voice startled her.
She looked up. Dilyn and Hunter stood side-by-side now on the stairs, both looking at her with equally vivid eyes, contrasted against their tan skin and dark hair.
"You might want to pick
a seat before your mother gets down here," Dilyn suggested.
She made a face. “Wouldn't want that.” Then she studied Dilyn a moment. It didn't seem like he knew what had transpired, only that they'd argued. But there was a question in his eyes—a hunger to know more.
A clatter of metal on wood. A string of curses issued from the kitchen.
“Sounds like things are well underway,” Ariana said, seizing the opportunity to wriggle herself free from Dilyn's attention. “I'll see if they need any help.”
She started down the last of the steps. Before she reached the kitchen, Hunter grabbed her arm. She jerked in surprise.
“Could I talk to you about something?” he asked in a low whisper, his eyes darting to Dilyn, who was already in the midst of the dinner-making commotion.
Ariana perked. Was he finally going to tell her the truth?
“I—”
“Can you two help us out?” William grunted.
Ariana turned to see his tall frame scrunched low as he shoved the door closed on an overfull cupboard of pots and pans.
“Actually, Wil, I think Hunter had something he—”
“No, it's okay." Hunter dropped his grip on her arm.
She stared at him. “But I thought you wanted to...”
Hunter shook his head. “Don't worry about it.” He eased by her and strode into the kitchen.
Ariana started to protest, but it was pointless.
“Could you get the plates from that cupboard?” William asked, pointing Hunter in the right direction as he placed a saucer of gravy amidst the overfull plates and bowls already littering the table's surface. “Perry, could we get some order on this table?”
Hunter pulled open the cabinet door.
“You don't like the haphazard look?” Perry teased as he set to rearranging the food.
William turned to Ariana. “Could you help Tehya and get the drinks from the block for me, please?” he asked as he patted his sister on the head.
She nodded, smiling sadly at the loving, almost fatherly gesture. Moments like that made her ache to have a sibling, widening the hole in her heart that shouldn't be there. She hated being an only child. She wasn't meant to be, she was certain of it. It felt wrong. Incomplete. Especially as she had seen Tehya and William grow up together. Having only one parent would have been a little easier to bear had she had a sibling to lean on, as they did.
It had been almost six years since Wil and Tehya lost their mother to the Sovereignty. She had been taken by Huntsmen to intimidate Bardoc into something—no one knew what, exactly. Apparently, he tried to strike a bargain with them, but it hadn't worked. Whatever they wanted, he couldn't—perhaps wouldn't—give them. So Iliana Edan became another sacrifice in King Fyrenn's twisted game of Conqueror, and William and Tehya were left to a broken family, like so many others. Her death was never confirmed, so Bardoc buried himself in his work, perhaps trying to find a way to get her back, clinging to the possibility that if only he could pay the right price, he would see her again. He never would. She was lost. As dead to them as Ariana's father was to her. But at least the children had each other. And a parent who encouraged their interests.
She pushed the thought away as she opened the pantry door. At least she had Tehya, who was the closest thing she had to a sister. Perhaps she'd directed her anger at the wrong person. Whether she agreed with Tehya's choice about Hunter or not, it wasn't what she was upset about.
Food-stuffed shelves lined the walls on either side, reaching three strides to the block huddled against the back wall. They called it the block for the frost that formed at the boundaries, where the temperature had been set, making it look like a giant block of ice, though it wasn't made of water. It was a fine mist trapped in an invisible, yet breach-able box.
She searched out the mulberry and foxberry juice before she stuck her arms in and grabbed the jug handles. As a Tierenmar, she was particularly attuned to the etâme used to create the block. She had to be careful not to disrupt the settings.
Once, she'd come down from Bardoc's studio, still charged from her lesson, and grabbed a jug of water without thinking, drawing all the cold out with her. She wouldn't forget the smell of spoiled meat and milk that seeped into the kitchen the next day. The boys made sure of that.
She made certain the block's temperature remained stable, then returned to the kitchen and set the juices on the counter.
She surveyed the room with a hint of nostalgia. Finn and Hunter sorted silverware, placing the utensils on each empty plate. Dilyn followed behind them, adjusting chairs and adding napkins. Perry sneaked a taste of one of the meats that had yet to make it to the table. Tehya removed glasses from a cabinet. Wil tended to a pan of simmering sauce. And Grant was missing.
As if he'd sensed her looking for him, Grant peered over the back of one of the sofas in the front room, where everyone always crashed after lessons, brandishing a sheaf of papers, the swirling scar-like race mark on his hand shining white against his golden skin. “This schedule is going to be a nightmare to get through,” he announced. “I'll never sleep again!”
Ariana's heart jolted, realizing that as a junior Master, he'd been given his schedule of classes and tasks early for the winter quarter. And if she didn't think of something—some impossible way out—she would never get one at all. A wave of despair crashed over her.
No. She stopped herself. No. I won't be the victim of my own story. I will find a way.
“I hope they put you in every one of my classes,” Perry said.
Grant groaned. “I'd almost prefer Lockden to that fate.”
Tehya clicked her tongue. “Not funny.”
“Almost,” Grant reiterated, not apologetic in the least.
"I'm so glad to finally be entering this quarter," Dilyn said to her as he came past. "I'm so ready to see the place for myself instead of hearing about it from all of them, aren't you?"
Ariana smiled through a grimace. "More than you know."
"I like that you—I mean, we—start in the quarter of our Nameday," Hunter said. "But I'm really not sure I like the idea of school all year long."
Ariana uncapped the jugs and forced herself to stop thinking of Ruekridge. She watched William instead, as he strode to the wall at the base of the stairs and flipped a switch, signaling his father that dinner was ready.
"Fill your plates," he announced.
Everyone quickly obeyed and claimed a seat, leaving the heads of the table empty. The older boys flanked Bardoc's usual chair near the stairs, Wil on the left, Grant on the right—his back to the crash room. Finn sat next to Grant, eyes trained on the pile of bacon in front of him.
Ariana sat between Tehya and Perry as arms reached over bowls to snatch food, silverware clanked against plates, and murmurs of "pass this" and "gimme that," fluttered through the group. She noticed Hunter still standing beside the kitchen counter, surveying the chaos, something dark brooding behind his olive eyes.
But the darkness paled as his gaze met Tehya's. He quickly diverted his attention to the empty seat beside Dilyn. He drifted toward it, flashing Ariana a strange, half-pitying smile as he sat.
What was that about?
She frowned and turned away from him, reaching across her plate to grab a couple of rolls from a basket. She could feel Hunter watching her as she slathered foxberry jam on the bread, and speared a thick slice of ptarmigan with her fork. But as soon as she cut herself a bite, Madame Emory's voice blew into the room like a winter wind. Then her mother was there. And Ariana's appetite was not.
“Your father will be down shortly,” she said to William. Then her eyes slid to Hunter and, to Ariana's surprise, Madame Emory froze. She cocked her head just a fraction. Her expression, for one brief moment, looked almost shocked, and then it was unreadable. Ariana glanced around, but no one else seemed to notice that her mother was suddenly not herself.
Ariana had been afraid she wouldn't be able to look at her mother during dinner, but now she couldn't pull her gaze awa
y. She watched as her mother sat, her eyes almost deliberately avoiding the space where Hunter was, and then a darting glance in his direction. Each time she did this, a cloud seemed to pass over her face. But it was gone again in a blink.
Was she imagining it? She couldn't be sure. So she kept watching.
For the next few minutes, it was relatively quiet, the silence filled only by the clinking and scratching of utensils on dishes, the occasional grunts of stuffed-mouth approval, the sounds of chewing, and the voice spewing questions in Ariana's head.
Then Grant started comparing his Master Studies schedule with Wil's.
Instantly, the spell her mother's discomfort had put over Ariana was broken, and she gawked at them.
Perry set his fork down to add his opinion, which sent Finn on a tangent that fueled a debate that spread to the rest of the table. The only ones not joining in were Hunter, Madame Emory, and herself. Tehya, though commenting, kept glancing at Ariana every time she spoke and flashing her an apologetic smile, followed by an awkward side-eye at Madame Emory.
Ariana was too confused to care, for the moment, that the whole table was rubbing salt in her wound. She looked at Hunter. What were they thinking, talking about Ruekridge in front of him?
“Dilyn,” she whispered, her tone angry and warning.
He turned to her, his mouth so full his cheeks bulged. He titled his head and widened his eyes.
She spoke through clenched teeth. “Shouldn't we pick our topics more... carefully?” She jerked her head in Hunter's direction.
Dilyn swallowed. “Relax, Ariana,” he said with an assuring nod, his head bobbing like a bird's. “Hunter knows about Ruekridge.”
She jerked her head back, incredulous. “He does?”
“Yeah, apparently he's a season late and didn't even know it."
She looked at Hunter again.
"I like that you—I mean, we—start school during the quarter of our Nameday. But I'm not so sure about the school year-round part," he was saying.
Perry shrugged. "It's not bad. At least it's safe from Recruiters."
The Onyx Vial (Shadows of The Nine Book 1) Page 5