Into whispering shadows.., p.12
Into Whispering Shadows (Darkened Skies Book 2), page 12
Orange anxiety sparkled around Cressida for a moment, then disappeared. “You think he’ll be able to help us?” she asked, voice low as she leaned toward Astrea.
“Maybe.”
Pulling Mattina’s journal back toward herself, Astrea began flipping through the pages. She’d spent an hour going through each page of that journal the night before, meticulous as she pushed her magical stamina and tried to find every strange, invisible letter Mattina had written down. The entire journal was filled with that strange language except for the page with the addresses.
She traced the foreign shapes on the page with her pointer finger. She blinked, then leaned in closer. The strange, looping letters looked like they were moving. No, not just moving. Dancing, the way Nazarov’s shadows danced in Kalama and in her nightmare.
“Az?” Cressida asked. “You good?”
Astrea blinked again. The letters went still. She blinked again, but the page remained unmoving.
“Fine . . .” Astrea shook her head. “I’m just tired.”
“Should’ve had more coffee.”
“Here we are!” Tomas called as he clambered back down the stairs, waving several sheets of paper above his head. He slid back into his seat and nodded. “Right. A strange language, indeed,” he mused as he examined the notebook again.
“There’s actually more we need help with,” Astrea said. Tomas nodded. “To make another long story short, there are some things I need to research that may be related to void magic. The old beliefs, as well as Novarian and Helosian history from the Great Wars, and mythology.”
“Oh, my.” Tomas let out a chuckle, half amused and half uneasy. “Well, you’ve come to the right place, I suppose. We can find you something on the topics.”
“Thank you.”
“Of course.” Tomas smiled. “Let’s get to work, shall we?”
Running wasn’t what Astrea had in mind when she thought about training.
She’d been trailing after Adi for what seemed like forever, her pace slowing with every step she took. Tomas had promised to get back to Astrea within a couple days with news from his friend Lili. Both she and Cressida had spent a good chunk of the morning and afternoon in the library, reading the few books Tomas was able to immediately pull on their requested topics. He was going to take the next day to pull more books once Astrea brought him a list of everything she’d already read.
Then Tomas had to move on to some of his other duties, and Astrea had to meet with Lucian, anyway. When Adi heard she was going to be training with Lucian, he’d pounced on the opportunity to continue his version of training while they waited for the commander.
And now, Astrea was cursing herself for agreeing to go along with this at all. Running was the worst.
When they were kids, Astrea, Jin, Eliana, and Cressida had all run laps in the Kalamian palace gardens, playing whatever games they could until Eliana and Jin were summoned by their governess. But that was a long time ago, and it was for play, not whatever the skies this was.
“Come on!” Adi called from in front of her, light on his feet despite the several laps they’d already run.
“This is a very specific form of torture!” Astrea called back, rounding the corner he’d just disappeared around.
Adi grinned at her as he jogged backward down the lakeside path. “It’s not that bad.”
“Someone needs to examine your head,” she muttered, pushing her legs to keep going. Adi’s pace slowed as he matched her stride, his amusement warm and bright against her skin, just like the afternoon sunshine.
“I think you’re both slow,” Cressida called as she passed both Astrea and Adi. She’d already done two more laps than Astrea, but she was trying not to think about that.
Astrea ignored both of her friends, focusing instead on finishing this lap. Even if she hated running, Astrea couldn’t think about anything other than putting one foot in front of the other. No Saros, no Kalama, no emperor, no bad dreams. That made it almost worthwhile.
Almost.
Up ahead, near the path that would lead them back to the guest house, Cressida stopped. She hunched over, her hands on her knees. Adi reached her first, and even he seemed winded, but that didn’t stop him. As soon as Astrea reached them, Adi faced her.
“Ready to practice?” he asked.
Astrea huffed. “No.”
“Which means it’s the perfect time to test your limits. Get in your stance.” As Astrea assumed her position, Adi said, “And after breaking that guy’s nose last night, I’d suggest being careful. Don’t need you healing any more broken hands, alright?”
Astrea groaned. “Are you ever going to let me live that down?”
“Not a chance!” Cressida called.
“I panicked,” Astrea muttered, to which Adi simply chuckled.
Adi adjusted her stance twice before he was satisfied, then had her practice a series of jabs and crosses. He showed her how to throw something called a hook and explained more about where she should be punching people should the situation ever arise again. She was very much a beginner, but Adi said she had good form.
The sun sank lower and lower in the sky, and Lucian still wasn’t there. He’d promised to join her by the lake no later than the third afternoon bell, but by the looks of the sun’s position, it had to be at least the fourth bell. Lucian was late.
Adi had just started to show Astrea how to dodge a punch when the commander finally crested the hill leading back to the palace. Despite Adi’s protests, Astrea dropped her stance immediately.
“Apologies,” Lucian said as he joined them. “Her Highness’s meetings ran late. Do you still want to begin today, Astrea?”
“I do.” Learning how to fight was fine, but what she really needed was to learn more about lightbringing. She didn’t want to get up close and personal with any void mages, and Adi’s exercises definitely required close quarters.
“I, for one, am done for the day,” Cressida said. “I’ll see you back at the house for dinner?”
“See you both,” Astrea replied as Adi joined Cressida. “Where do we begin, Commander?”
“Unfortunately, I don’t have much time to spare since I’m so late,” Lucian said. He motioned for her to sit on the ground. “But we can begin with what you already know or any questions you might have.”
Questions. She had so many questions.
“I know I can heal physical injuries,” Astrea said as she finally dropped into the grass. Lucian sat across from her. “I can summon some light, though doing so can be difficult for me, and I can sense emotions and pain.”
“Lightbringing is different from other magics,” he said. “So is stargazing, actually. You said your uncle is a Stargazer, right?” Astrea nodded. “I’m surprised he wasn’t able to teach you more.”
Astrea shrugged. Saros had always been paranoid about someone finding out the truth. She knew without a doubt he could teach her more, at least about the light they shared.
“Take Cressida’s magic, for example,” Lucian continued when she didn’t answer. “There is nothing so passive about a Metalli’s power. If she wants to manipulate metal, she has to do so with thought, with purpose.”
This seemed like an elementary place to begin the lesson, but Astrea kept quiet. He was the expert.
“Stargazers and Lightbringers both have more passive abilities than this. Without training to do otherwise, it’s hard for us to ignore the energy we sense around us, like people’s emotions. We can sense things beyond ourselves, usually without even trying to do so.”
“Is there a way I can control that?” Astrea asked. “I’ve figured out how to control how far out my senses reach, at least to an extent. But I’ve never been able to shut off my connection to what people are feeling. It’s overwhelming.”
“There is, in fact, a way. Relax as much as you can.”
Easier said than done. The commander was kind enough, but she could barely relax around her friends lately, let alone a stranger. Still, Astrea rested her hands on her knees and sucked in a deep breath.
Lucian had assumed the same position as her. “Now, I want you to become aware of your body.”
“What?” Was she not already aware of her body? She was in it, after all.
“Slow your breathing,” Lucian said. “Focus on that first. Then start to notice sensations in and around your body.”
This didn’t sound like magic at all. Even in the limited lessons Saros and her mother had given Astrea, they’d never suggested anything like this.
“Trust me, Astrea,” Lucian said again. “This is where you need to begin.”
She nodded, then focused on her breathing. She breathed in as deep as she could, then pushed the breath out slowly. In and out she breathed, her eyes drifting closed.
“Now focus on your body and the space around you,” Lucian said. “Feel the energy in you and around you.”
What was the energy around her like? What was she feeling now, in her own body?
Pain was the first thing Astrea noticed. Bone-deep pain, her limbs almost growing heavier as she let it wash over her. Memories of Saros and Roxana, Sarsali and Balthazar, even Raela, came to her mind uninvited. Astrea’s breaths grew shallow.
“It’s alright,” Lucian said.
“You could see that?”
“Yes. Just notice this energy for now, then move on.”
“Notice it and move on.” Astrea nodded. She needed to get through this if this was just the basis for everything else, the more important things she was going to need when they went back to Helosia. “I’ll try again.”
They repeated the exercise three more times before Astrea was finally able to ‘notice and move on,’ as Lucian had instructed. It didn’t make her heart hurt any less, nor did it ease her homesickness, but it was manageable.
“Now I want you to feel the energy you’re projecting into the world,” Lucian said.
“What?”
“You said you taught yourself how to adjust the radius of your empathic senses, right?” When Astrea nodded, he said, “All emotions generate energy. All of our bodies do. To create this barrier around yourself, you need to find where your energy extends, then pull it back in toward yourself.”
She scrubbed at her face. Was this how Jin—and countless other people in the world—created their walls, or did he do it without realizing it? Could he even sense his own energy that way? She’d never considered it that closely. It wasn’t like she could simply ask people back in Kalama, and her family had never kept themselves closed off.
“I know you’re frustrated, but just try the exercise before you write me off.”
Astrea forced her shoulders down and back as she took a deep breath. This shouldn’t be hard. She’d pulled on energy in and around herself dozens of times before, like when she healed Eliana back on Solstice Night or even when she’d healed her broken fingers just the night before. Why would this be much different? Come on, Az.
She wasn’t sure how long it took, but as the ground grew harder and more uncomfortable underneath her, Astrea finally felt it. The energy surrounding her drifted out, stretching toward Lucian. He was calm. Cool curiosity radiated off him. This was different from when she healed, and it was different from when she controlled how far her lightbringing senses spread. She couldn’t quite explain it. Still, Astrea imagined herself pulling her energy back toward her body. It was almost like she was pulling her magic and something more back toward herself, and it only followed her command with great effort on her part.
“How do you feel?” Lucian asked.
“It’s difficult.” And it was, like holding back an animal eager for freedom. It was almost like her senses didn’t want to be controlled.
“It will be at first,” he agreed. “How do I feel?”
“You feel . . .” Beyond that wall of invisible energy, she didn’t feel much of anything. No colors flashed across Lucian’s aura. No extra tastes coated Astrea’s tongue. Nothing pressed against her skin or settled in her bones. The only thing she could feel was the cotton of her training shirt. It wasn’t the wrongness of the void mages, either. The world simply grew quieter. Softer. “Did you—”
“I did nothing,” Lucian said. “I am still letting my energy flow out toward you.”
Part of her almost didn’t believe Lucian. I’ll try it when I’m with Cress later.
“It will take practice,” the commander continued, either unaware of her distrust or simply ignoring it. “This becomes easier with time, to the point that you won’t have to think about it nearly so much. Your magic and your control over it gets stronger the more you practice.”
Practice. She could do that.
“What about using my magic in a fight?” Astrea asked. “I’ve been attacked by void mages twice now and could barely defend myself.”
“That’s a lesson for another day.” Lucian pushed to his feet, then offered his hand to Astrea. She took it, letting the older Lightbringer pull her up.
She almost protested, then thought better of it. He was going out of his way, taking time out of his day and away from his duties to the grand duchess, to teach her anything at all. She should be grateful.
“Can you meet me again tomorrow afternoon?” Lucian asked.
“Yes, of course,” she said quickly. “I’ll be here.”
“Good. Meet me at the third afternoon bell, and practice what we just discussed in the meantime.”
As Lucian started back up the hill toward the palace, Astrea pushed her sore legs into a jog as she headed for the guest house. She needed a shower, and as her stomach rumbled, she really hoped Cressida would have that dinner she’d promised.
Chapter 12
For just a moment, Astrea wondered if she’d be able to skip Adi’s future lessons. Every muscle in her body ached, and even the long, hot shower she’d taken before dinner hadn’t helped.
White light drifted over her fingers, gentle as her magic explored the pain in her thighs. Would it be worth it to actually try healing this? Astrea didn’t think so.
Jin had just returned from a run with Adi. How the Earthmover was able to go twice in one day, Astrea didn’t know. The shower in the bathroom had been on for a good ten minutes already. It was still too early for Astrea to go to bed, and she didn’t want to look at Mattina’s journal anymore, nor did she want to look at the mythology book Felix had given her. She just wanted to stop thinking about the void for ten skies damned minutes.
Groaning as she pushed herself off the sofa near the fireplace, Astrea forced her legs to take her to the desk on the opposite side of the room. The journal, book of myths, Novarian police files, and Jin’s old Kalamian files were stacked in the top left corner of the desk. Below that were the papers marked with the Paragon’s symbol, though Jin had folded them so the symbol wasn’t visible. And in the top right corner was a bundle Astrea hadn’t looked at in almost two days.
Jin’s letters.
He wanted her to read them, and Astrea wanted to know about what had happened in his life those eight long years, but she hesitated as she reached for them. Was she ready for this? Yes, she decided as she grabbed the envelopes and returned to the sofa.
Astrea sucked in a sharp breath as she untied the blue ribbon holding the bundle together. The first envelope, dated for the year Jin first left Kalama, wasn’t even sealed. She pulled out a single sheet of folded paper. He wanted her to read them, and if he thought it was time, then it was time. Jin always had his reasons. She could do this. Astrea unfolded the letter.
Az,
I’m sorry I’m not writing back to you. Well, I am, but you won’t ever know that. I can’t send you this.
Leaving Kalama has been so difficult. Fort Ironwing is awful.
I’ve been to the healers four times this week already. I think one of the mage trainers here has something against me. It’s not that he doesn’t take it easy on me. I don’t expect him to do that. But he pushes me harder than he does anyone else I’ve seen here. It’s not even pushing . . . it’s bullying.
I hope you don’t mind that I’m writing to you like this. We aren’t allowed much at the fort, but I have access to paper, and this makes not getting to see you easier. Maybe I’m selfish. I don’t know. I hope you understand. You’ve always been so understanding, but I don’t deserve that anymore.
I miss you. I’m sorry.
Jin
Astrea stared at the letter, then at the other envelopes sitting next to her. Some seemed to hold a single sheet like this; they were so thin. Others were so thick she couldn’t begin to guess how much he’d written.
She reached for the second.
Then the third.
Then the fourth and fifth. They’d all detailed Jin’s opportunity to leave Fort Ironwing with Zephyrine Kanakos, the noblewoman and former general now supporting Eliana’s desire to take the throne. Jin’s descriptions made Zephyrine sound kind, if not a bit aloof.
The letters didn’t get truly difficult to read until the sixth.
Az,
I got your last letter. I know you don’t consider us friends anymore. You probably wouldn’t believe me, but it hurts me just as much as it hurts you. I wish I could hug you right now.
I also wish I could tell you about my new team in person. I learned that Zephyrine recruited me because the last Fireweaver on her team died on a mission.
This is why we can’t be friends. That’s going to be me someday, and I can’t do that to you.
I’m sorry.
Jin
Astrea’s heart ached. She remembered that final letter she’d sent him. She’d been so angry with Jin for leaving without saying goodbye. She’d been so confused. And in that time, his mage trainers had been impossibly hard on him. He’d been brought onto Zephyrine’s team to replace a dead mage. How had that felt to him when he was just eighteen? That had been his fear, dying in the field. He’d told her that after the imperial dinner.
