“In any case, I’m headed to dinner. Want to come with?”
“I really should try and catch up with Alyss.” Eira laced her fingers tightly. She had half a mind to grab some candles and hunker in the room for the rest of the night. There were at least eight more journals for her to work through. And the tunnel to explore.
“Alyss was still at the clinic when I left.”
“I didn’t think you were sent to the West Clinic today?”
“They called me in last minute to help with pain management during a procedure and I had time.” Marcus smiled.
Pain management… That meant her brother had already been taught by someone—their uncle, likely—how to use his magic to cool flesh without damage, enough to make it numb.
“When did you learn how to do that?” Eira dared to ask, wishing her voice would cooperate and be stronger while she did it.
“Oh…” He paused. His shoulders slumped a bit and he ran a hand through his mop of hair. Guilty, every movement he made screamed guilty. “I suppose a year ago?”
“A year ago? When you were supposed to graduate the Tower?” Apprentices usually graduated at twenty. But Marcus had turned twenty last year and was still an apprentice for some inexplicable reason.
“Yeah, around then, I think. Maybe that’s why Uncle taught me. He knew I should have graduated and could’ve learned then.”
“He taught an apprentice,” Eira murmured.
“I’m sure he’ll teach you soon.” Marcus rested a hand on her shoulder. “Come on, bird-blue eyes, don’t look so down. Give your brother a smile.”
Eira forced a smile as she doubted Fritz would teach her anything.
She followed Marcus down the Tower, just behind him, in his shadow, as was her place. Marcus was the star. He was the Waterrunner who shone, the one who was always in control. He helped the young apprentices and teachers alike. He was a healthy blend of academic and practical.
And she…she was…there. Always just a step out of the spotlight.
But if she actually got into the spotlight, what would she do? She didn’t know. It was a question she’d posed many a night, alone in her room, and still didn’t have an answer to. Some people were made to be loved and doted on. Others weren’t.
Being in the shadow might make it easier if she ever did try to slip away. Those late and lonely nights usually set her mind to wandering across the sea to the Crescent Continent. She’d fantasize about striking out and making a life for herself there. She’d wonder how easy it would be to stow away onto a trading galley. Surely a few of the sailors she’d met as a girl in Oparium were still on the seas…
“Marcus?” Eira paused at the entrance to the dining hall. In a circular, central room of the Tower, apprentices and teachers alike gathered around tables, clustered in conversation. The smell of freshly baked bread and roast hog filled the air. “Aren’t we—”
“We just have a quick stop to make first.”
“Where?” Her heart sank.
“We’re getting Cullen from the training grounds. I promised—”
“No, I’m finding Alyss.”
Marcus rushed back to her, grabbing both shoulders before she could turn away. “I promised him we would have dinner together tonight. There’s something he wanted to tell me.”
“Good, you two can have dinner. We will catch up some other time.”
“But it’s midweek. We always have dinner midweek.”
“You should have thought about that before you scheduled dinner with Cullen.” Eira folded her arms.
“Please, Eira. He’s not that bad.”
Cullen was that bad. And worse. Cullen was more terrible than Noelle and Adam combined. He was the “Prince of the Tower,” for the Mother’s sake. As far as Eira was concerned, he was the worst. He rarely spoke to anyone. And when he did, it always served to remind everyone else that they were far, far beneath him.
“Marcus—”
“Please.” Marcus leaned forward and met her eyes. His were a darker shade than hers, like his hair, and more of a sea blue than ice. His eyes were warm and inviting, like him. Hers were brisk, almost unnaturally bright, and off-putting…like her.
“Fine.” She sighed. “Fine, fine, fine.” Eira added a groan at the end for good measure. “But you owe me something good from Margery’s Bakery.”
“A sweet bun?”
“Two sweet buns, whenever I request.”
“Done.” Marcus clapped his hands and started down the Tower. Eira watched, debating one final time if she should follow or just escape while she could. With another groan, she caught up to her brother. A promise was a promise, especially between siblings.
They left the Tower through an unmarked door. Every apprentice had their name emblazoned on their door with a silver nameplate, lovingly made by a young Firebearer of the Tower as one of their early tasks. But the unmarked doors signified passages that connected with the palace proper.
“Marcus.”
“Yes?”
“Have you ever found a Tower passage that wasn’t marked?”
“What do you mean?” He glanced over his shoulder. The lone flame bulb of the long hall cast deep shadows on his face.
“A door, or passage, that wasn’t obvious?”
“What’re you talking about?” Marcus paused at the opposite end of the hall. It looked like a dead end, the mortared stone of the palace rounding out where an exit should be.
“I—” Eira tried to gather her slippery thoughts. “—I just thought that there’s so many secret, but not secret, passages… Maybe there’s one or two that are actually secret? Maybe there are passages that people have long forgotten about?”
Her brother chuckled. “Is this a plot from one of Alyss’s novels?”
“Yes.” Eira forced a laugh. “Never mind, ignore me.”
And he did.
Life had taught Eira over the years that she was an easy one to ignore—to forget, even. Sometimes, she wondered if she had an illusion cast over her at all times that made her blend in with the walls around her. An illusion like the one they passed through.
Marcus went first. He submerged himself without fear into the dead end of the tunnel. It was as if fog consumed him whole. Eira went after, passing through the illusion of a stone wall and into a palace hall. The only marker of the illusion was a small symbol—two halves of a circle, broken and offset from each other. It was the old symbol of the Tower, called the Broken Moon. That symbol had persisted for more than a hundred years before the crown princess, Vi Solaris, had decreed it must be changed to the marking of four circles and triangles that was now on the back of Eira’s robes. A sudden and strange demand, for sure. But Eira favored the new symbol over the old.
They walked down through the palace hallways to the training grounds. Uncle Fritz had told her that sorcerers were once an oddity on the grounds—unwelcome, as sorcerers had been in most places. It was a strange thought, because one wouldn’t think it had ever been true now.
The dusty training grounds of the palace had a whole section dedicated to sorcerers. They practiced alongside the palace guard and remnants of the Solaris army. Now, the vast expanse was empty, save for six people.