by Kay L Moody
And whose fault is that? she thought.
Talise dropped her head into her palms and began crying again as if she had never stopped. At this rate, she might never stop.
Not until Marmie’s grave bore her mark.
NINE
LETTERS.
They captured the essence of Marmie, but not the smell. They didn’t hold the soft edges of her wrinkled skin or the few gray strands in her hair. How many strands of gray were there now?
Talise hadn’t seen Marmie in ten years. When she first joined the academy, the one thing she feared most was forgetting Marmie’s face. At first, it took no effort at all to recall her sparkly smile and gray eyes. The first few years, it was easy.
And then it wasn’t.
Now she wondered if she had imagined that freckle under Marmie’s right eye. Or was it her left? Had her lips been full or thin? She never thought to look when she was younger.
Marmie insisted Talise would never be able to forget her as long as she loved her. But she was wrong. She loved Marmie with more heart than she even knew was capable.
And she could barely remember her face.
Talise clutched the letters against her chest and breathed them in again, praying for even the hint of a smell.
Of course it never came. What did Marmie smell like? Now she’d never know. At the funeral, she’d smell like embalming fluid. That wasn’t Marmie. All Talise would really get was to see Marmie’s face again.
Her beautiful face that had sacrificed everything, everything for Talise to be here.
Why did fate have to be so cruel as to let Marmie see Talise get so close to the competition, but not close enough to win? Talise had bought Marmie a riverboat ticket so she could attend. If things had gone according to plan, Marmie would have had one full day of food and rest. It would have been the best she’d felt in years.
And now she was dead.
Gone.
Sand seemed to scrape down Talise’s throat as she tried to swallow. She clutched the letters to her chest as she paced across her bedroom.
How was she supposed to compete like this? How could she focus now?
She swallowed again and brushed an errant tear from her cheek.
She just had to put a mark on Marmie’s gravestone. If she could just leave a mark on the gravestone, then she could focus again. Why was Mrs. Dew taking so long to tell her when the funeral would be?
Talise’s bedroom door opened a crack, and the letters flew through the air as she wrenched the door open. Her arms sagged at her sides when she saw Wendy in the doorway.
Talise turned away and tucked a strand of chin-length black hair behind her ear. “I thought you were Mrs. Dew.”
“Why weren’t you in class this morning?” Wendy asked.
Gulping seemed like a good way to subdue the frog in Talise’s throat, but the sandpaper feeling only got worse. Considering how much she’d been crying, it made sense that her throat was dry.
“I had a, uh… personal…” Why was she trying to be brave in front of Wendy? Wendy was her friend. But maybe if she could be brave in front of Wendy, she could be brave in front of everyone else too. “A personal issue,” Talise finished with a curt nod.
Wendy’s face had fallen. All the lighthearted laughter in her eyes had been replaced by a shroud of black. “What happened?” Her voice came out higher than usual.
All of that Talise probably could have handled. But then Wendy touched her arm with fingers as cold as ice. In a voice barely above a whisper, she asked, “Marmie?”
The floodgates released and tears fell down Talise’s cheeks in sheets before she could even nod. Gripping her arms tight around her stomach, she turned away. She felt foolish for crying, but she didn’t know why.
The emotion boiled inside her until it was too much. She threw her body onto her bed and kicked her feet against the mattress as she sobbed. She felt like a child throwing a tantrum, but it didn’t stop her. Nothing could.
Why did this have to be real? Why couldn’t it be a fairy tale where she gained some magic power for going through a tragedy? In reality, all this gave her was the urge to curl up in a ball and never face the world again.
If she couldn’t even keep her cool around her best friend, what chance did she have around the rest of her classmates? Around Mrs. Dew?
Around the emperor?
He’d never understand or forgive her for letting her emotions get in the way of shaping.
Wendy had sidled next to Talise. She stroked her hair and let her cry. Minutes passed without either of them saying a word. Or maybe it was hours.
All Talise knew was her shoulders still heaved with sobs, but no more tears fell from her eyes. Maybe she’d finally gotten too dehydrated. When the sandpaper coating her throat became unbearable, she sat up.
Wendy sat across from her on the end of the bed. Were those tear streaks on her cheeks too?
“I just,” Talise said as she started twisting a chunk of her hair with both hands. “I just want to go to the funeral and put a mark on Marmie’s gravestone. If I can just see her one last time, if I can just say goodbye, I know I’ll be okay. I’ll be able to focus on the competition and do my best like I promised her. I just need to put mark on her gravestone.”
“When is the funeral?” Wendy’s voice came out in a gentle wisp, floating on the air like an air shaping ribbon.
“I don’t know. Mrs. Dew was supposed to find out, but she doesn’t know yet. She said the city is taking forever to write back. Or maybe the letter got lost in the mail.”
One of Wendy’s eyebrows shot up for a brief moment before it fell back into place. It was such a small expression, but on Wendy, it spoke volumes.
“What is it?”
Wendy seemed to curl into herself. She shrugged her shoulders until they touched her earlobes. “I’m sure it’s nothing.”
Talise sat forward, grabbing one of Wendy’s hands until it was tight between both of hers. “Please, Wendy. It’s my…” Her throat seemed to choke up before the name could escape her lips. In a whisper, she finished, “What do you know?”
Wendy’s eyes were full to the brim with tears. A light flush colored her cheeks as she nodded. Maybe she had been trying to protect Talise from the truth, but she understood now. Talise needed the truth more than anything.
“I think Mrs. Dew already knows when the funeral is. I heard her talking to another teacher. I don’t know when it’s supposed to be, but I think she’s hiding something.”
Talise clasped her hands over her mouth. Her stomach seemed to solidify into a knot with thousands of strands that grew tighter each second. “It’s the same day. What if it’s the same day as the competition?”
“They wouldn’t do that,” Wendy said, forcing her head side to side in sharp jerks. “They wouldn’t wait that long to do the funeral. Especially in the Storm. Have you ever heard of them waiting an entire week to do a funeral?”
The knot in her stomach loosened one strand at a time. “No. No, you’re right. Funerals in the Storm usually happen within three days.” With those words, another strand came loose, allowing her to let out a breath. But then, it recoiled, and the knot seemed even tighter than before.
“But then why hasn’t Mrs. Dew told me when it is? What is she hiding?”
“Maybe she doesn’t want you to get distracted from the competition.”
Talise let out a snort. “Too late for that.”
“Is money a problem?” Wendy asked. Her eyes were focused on her fingers as she picked at her cuticles. “I have a little money in savings if you need a ticket.”
It took everything in her for Talise to keep her mouth from gaping. This was not typical for their relationship. Wendy was from the Gate, so she always had more money than Talise. But even still, Wendy never had exorbitant amounts of money. At least not like people from the Crown.
Another frog settled into Talise’s throat, though she couldn’t figure out exactly why. “Mrs. Dew said the school might pay
for the ticket.”
Wendy let out an audible breath of relief that was probably meant to be silent. Her cheeks turned pink for a moment before her eyes narrowed at a spot in the floor. “Something weird is going on.”
Talise nodded and crossed her arms over her chest. She wanted to scowl too but worried Wendy might think it was about her. For now, her scowling would have to stay in her head.
Wendy twisted her hands around themselves before she spoke again. “My brother told me he used to bribe guards when he wanted information. You know they hear everything. He told me who the trustworthy guards are, who can be bought, and who gives good information.”
A light bloomed in Talise’s heart for only a moment before it was snuffed out. “I can’t. I only have enough money for my riverboat ticket. If the school doesn’t help, I don’t have anything extra for bribery.”
“I wasn’t suggesting you pay for it,” Wendy said in a matter-of-fact tone. She grabbed Talise’s wrist and pulled them both out the door before Talise could even think about protesting.
Wendy led them out into the gardens where they hid behind a particularly stiff bush. Prying a few branches apart, Talise looked through a small opening in the leaves.
A guard stood in front of a fountain wearing a uniform covered in wrinkles and dirt smudges. One of the older guards was talking to him, and the younger guard didn’t like what he was hearing.
The moment the older guard stepped away, Wendy pulled them out from behind the bush and marched toward the younger guard. He didn’t notice them at first because he was too busy grumbling under his breath and digging his toe into the dirt.
When they stood directly in front of him, he finally seemed to notice they were there for him. His toe stopped mid-dig as he looked up. He pasted on a cocky smile and shook his hair until it fell into his eyes.
But then, he saw Talise’s face and everything in his expression changed. First his eyebrows shot up, and then he stuffed his hands into his pockets. After a tiny gulp, his cocky expression returned, but nothing about it felt natural now.
“Why did you make that face when you saw me?” Talise asked. “Did that guard say something to you about me?”
“No!” the guard said, a little too quickly.
Wendy placed a hand on his forearm, and his shoulders seemed to relax instantly. She turned her eyes downward so the only way to look at him was up through her eyelashes. “Do you know anything about a funeral for a woman named Shyna?”
The guard seemed mesmerized by Wendy’s honey-sweet voice. After a brief blank stare, he shook his head and looked away. “No. I don’t know anything about that.”
Talise was ready to grind her teeth into dust, but Wendy seemed to welcome the challenge. She bit her bottom lip and touched the guard’s forearm again. He was too busy staring into her eyes to notice she had retrieved a wad of money from her side pouch.
“What about now?” she said with a playful smirk.
He eyed the money for a long second but then looked back into her eyes. And then back at the money. Without warning, he took a step back and raised his hands in front of himself. “I’m straight now. I don’t do that kind of thing anymore.”
Wendy let out a soft sigh and reached back into her side pouch. This time, an even bigger wad of money lay in her palm. Even Talise’s eyes widened at the sight of it.
“What do you know?” Wendy asked. She probably meant for her voice to sound serious and business-like, but she was too sweet for it. Instead, it sounded just as innocent as her.
The guard showed a moment’s hesitation. After one last look into Wendy’s eyes, he leaned forward, keeping his head bent low. “The funeral is scheduled for the week after the competition.”
Talise’s fingers curled into a fist. “Try again,” she said. “That’s two weeks away. They would never wait that long to do a funeral.”
“I swear,” the guard said, placing a hand over his heart while the other took the money. “I thought it was weird too, but they said they’re doing some embalming thing so they can hold off until then.”
Talise was still busy eyeing the guard, trying to decide if he was telling the truth or not, when Wendy said, “Thank you. You don’t know what this means.”
A sheepish smile grew on the guard’s lips as he rustled his hair with one hand. Talise still didn’t know if he could be trusted, but then again, why would he lie? Everything made sense now. Mrs. Dew didn’t want to say when the funeral was because she wanted Talise to focus on the competition without worrying about it. They postponed the funeral to make sure Talise could be there.
It all made sense.
Even still, the curling knot of anxiety in her stomach only seemed to twist and tighten at the thought. Could she focus on the competition even with the funeral postponed?
TEN
THE CLASSROOM LOOKED NOTHING LIKE IT USUALLY did. The desks and chairs had all been pushed against the walls, so the floor was wide open. The students sat cross-legged at the back of the classroom.
Mrs. Dew and four other shapers from the Crown sat at a long table in the front. They each held a writing pad and kept whispering to each other. They didn’t seem to be concerned in the least that their whispers increased the tension in the room by ten times. In fact, a few of them seemed to enjoy the affect they had on the students.
Pre-competition day.
Competition day was most important to Talise, but for almost everyone else, this was the day they’d been training ten years for. Mrs. Dew and the fellow judges would make notes on the demonstrations and those notes would ultimately help place the students into their future jobs. Plus, it gave anyone vying for Master Shaper the chance to see each other’s demonstrations and alter theirs to better compete.
On competition day, the only judge would be the emperor. He would choose the best shaper as Master Shaper. Everyone already knew there were really only two students who had a chance at this.
But pre-competition day?
Everyone had a chance here. For everyone besides Talise and Aaden, today was the day their lives would be set. They had to show the very best of their skills, and they had to do it without throwing up.
Talise dug her fingernails into her knees, trying to keep her mind occupied with anything besides Marmie’s funeral. She should have been more worried about Aaden and seeing his skills, but all she could see in her mind was Marmie’s empty gravestone until Talise would be able to put one tiny mark on it.
One mark that would look so little compared to the life that Marmie had led. Her sacrifice and love deserved a hundred marks. The only thing Talise could do now was make her mark so intricate and detailed that it would be marveled by all who saw it.
Wendy jumped to the center of the room when Mrs. Dew called her name. Talise dug her nails deeper into her knees. She needed to focus on this demonstration. She owed it to Wendy to pay attention at least to hers.
Every time Talise’s mind would wander to Marmie’s grave, she’d press her nails in deeper. Her mind still fought to dwell on the grave even while Wendy asked for the classroom windows to be opened.
The other judges looked bored, but Mrs. Dew gave Wendy an encouraging nod. Wendy lifted her bow and a single arrow from the ground. She took aim before shooting, but her demonstration began after the arrow left the bow.
Wendy dropped the bow and put both hands in front of her, sending a rush of shaped air after the arrow. With the added air, the arrow was able to travel three times the distance it could have without it.
The judges were impressed.
Talise was proud.
But then the judges asked too many questions, especially one judge wearing red silk. He asked about the military application of her shaping technique, and Talise’s head was filled with thoughts of Marmie once again.
When Aaden’s turn came, she could barely keep herself from losing the food in her stomach. He had improved his cherry blossoms to perfection. Even from the back of the classroom she could see how beautiful they
were.
Her stomach roiled and clenched as she watched. No amount of nail pressing would help her insides now. When she was called up to do her demonstration, she already had a headache and her skin seemed to be on fire.
She’d been practicing with so much fire lately, she didn’t notice her internal temperature rising so much. But this time, she was pretty sure it was an actual fever, not from fire shaping. A stress-induced fever no doubt.
Maybe if she lost her lunch in front of the judges, they would let her do her demonstration another time.
They wouldn’t.
She already knew they wouldn’t. It wouldn’t do her any good even if they did. Marmie’s funeral was still an entire week after the final competition. How could she concentrate on anything before then?
She shaped her fire ribbons into the air and let them spin around her. Her veins protested at every second. Her temperature was rising much more than it ever had in practice. She gritted her teeth together and tried to think of something that would encourage her. She tried to think of Marmie’s sacrifice and how she couldn’t let it be in vain.
With a fire ribbon high above her head, an image of Marmie came into Talise’s head so clearly, it was as if Marmie sat next to her. Talise remembered sitting in that little room where she’d been tested for a shaping academy.
Talise had asked if Marmie could come live in the palace after Talise became Master Shaper.
“You already know the answer to that,” Marmie had said in a gentle tone. Her right eye had squinted, almost in a wink. The freckle under her eye bounced through the movement. So, the freckle was under her right eye.
For a moment, Talise’s heart soared with relief. She could see the face with perfect clarity. It felt as though Marmie looked down on her, offering love and approval through her memory.
But then reality settled in again.
Marmie was dead. Gone.
Forever.
In that moment, everything fell apart. When the fire ribbon fell, Talise’s shaping became jerky and rigid. Instead of falling in a swooping swirl, it looked more like a snake slithering down a spiral staircase, and not in a graceful way.