The Heartwood Chronicles

In the night, Amber woke up to what sounded suspiciously like pebbles rattling against her window.

No. It sounded exactly like pebbles rattling against her window.

Amber slid out of bed, drew the curtains, and raised the window a crack. Another handful of pebbles fountained up toward her. Amber narrowed her eyes, and the pebbles fell soundlessly against an invisible barrier in front of the glass.

Not bad, she thought, proudly. It’s only been a week, and I’m starting to react like a combat mage.

“Hurry up, Amber,” came the whisper, “before the Old Terror catches me.” She didn’t have to think hard to guess he meant the dorm matron.

“You’re not supposed to be sneaking into the girls’ dormitory at all, Kael,” Amber whispered back, but she opened the window wider.

He was inside as quick as a flash. Amber shut the window, put up a light-scattering and sound-proofing pattern in front of the glass. She turned on her small bedside lamp.

Kael sank down into her one armchair and propped his feet on a low table.

“Feet off,” said Amber automatically, giving them a shove. She didn’t want him getting too comfortable.

He grinned at her as he complied. Oblivious as he could be, at least he was easygoing. Amber was finding that rare quality in most of her contemporaries at Heartwood. Most of them tended towards intense in some way or another.

Amber sat down on her bed, the only other available sitting surface. “So, what is it?”

“Well. You’ve been here for over a week now. I thought you’d be bored out of skull with all this school stuff by now.” He indicated the piles of books and heaps of paper all over the room.

“Actually, I find it all very interesting, but from the look in your eye, you have something in mind—probably foolhardy and dangerous.” She’d heard quite the number of stories—most of them related in fond or admiring tones—about his exploits. Amber had formed her own opinion about those and that kept her from pushing the “friends” button on Kael’s name on her cryst. “Spit out what you want, so I can say no, kick you out, and go back to sleep.”

“Oh, I know you won’t be able to resist this, Amber.” Kael pulled out a narrow object from the inside pocket of his capacious coat. Amber leaned forward to examine its signature.

“A taan blade,” she said, “of Kaidan make. A family heirloom and magical weapon, and obviously part of a set. It should have a long sword to go with it. I sense this weapon has a great provenance and deep magical history.”

“I was right. You do know your stuff.”

Amber rolled her eyes. “I’ve also seen it on Troi’s hip a dozen times already. He nearly slew me with one look when I asked about it the other day.” The memory of that conversation rankled. “He’ll kill you when he finds out you’ve taken it.”

“Nah. He may try, but he won’t be able to.”

“I’ve seen him fight.” With those cold winds at his call, Troi was a demon.

“You haven’t seen me fight,” Kael pointed out.

“The warehouse and Needle Guy,” Amber reminded him.

“That wasn’t fighting. That was damage control.”

Amber almost choked at this. The sheer self-confidence of sun mages never failed to surprise her. “What do you want me to do with that?” She pointed at the dagger.

“Find the sword that goes with it.”

Amber blinked. “In Troi’s room?” she guessed. “On Kaidan?”

“Wrong and wrong.” Kael nodded toward the window. “You’ve heard about Touro Academy yet?”

“Only a little.” Carradia was one of many independent townships along the mainland coast, but the island nations had their own enclaves, too. Owned by Kaidan and located on an island in Carradia Bay, Tourou Academy was a prestigious boys-only school for the progeny of the nation’s finest families. “Ainsley told me that Troi was originally at Touro.”

Kael laughed. “He ran away from Touro to Heartwood several times. They got tired of fetching him back, so his family finally allowed him to stay on here.  He was supposed to return to Touro when he was seventeen, though. There was even a big family row about it. It all took place Kaidan so the rest of us missed it.” He sighed in obvious disappointment.

Amber’s eyes were round as saucers. Going against one’s family’s wishes was a huge deal in Kaidan culture. “Well, what happened then?”

Kael shrugged. “He made it back here, obviously. But he hasn’t been back home since then  and doesn’t talk to his family much anymore.” He picked up one of Amber’s three-dimensional puzzles and started fiddling with it. “You have a lot of stuff, don’t you?”

Amber took it away from him. “About the dagger?”

“Yeah, that. Troi inherited the set from his grandfather. The long sword that’s supposed to go with it is still at Touro. They wouldn’t let Troi bring it to Heartwood with him. Apparently, it’s a family treasure and a Kaidan cultural artifact. Or something.”

“Well, of course, they wouldn’t,” said Amber strongly. “I’m surprised they let Troi break up the set and take the dagger.

“All I know is that it’s Troi’s sword, and they’re refusing to give it to him. That’s not right.” Kael turned a small model of Allyons Cathedral over in his hands. Amber took that away from him, too.

“Stop touching my stuff,” she scolded. “Well, Kaidan culture is really strict about heirlooms like this. Even Troi knows this. Which is why you’re the only one on this weird quest.”

“Ah, well. I tried.” Kael swept up the dagger and went to the window. “See you later, Amber.”

“Tell me,” pleaded Amber, “that you’re going to return the taan blade and forget about this whole thing.”

He just looked at her.

“I’m going to tell Troi,” she warned him.

“Then I’d better get a head start!” He was out the window before Amber could marshal another argument for her cause.

He’s actually going on a solo raid to Touro Academy? How’s he going to even find the long sword in that huge place? Idiot! Amber ranted silently to herself as she changed, jammed her feet into boots, and threw her tattered mist cloak around her shoulders.

If I end up in trouble over this, Kael, I will personally take it out of your hide.

Amber was rather more cautious as she climbed out the window. I hope I can catch up with him. She reached out with her mage senses–

“Hey.”

Amber jumped. “How’d you—how’d you manage to mask your presence like that?” Kael leaned against the wall, and he was so tightly shielded she hadn’t had a clue he was behind her.

“What good is a combat mage who goes about lit up like a music hall all the time?” Kael shifted his gaze to Amber’s cloak. “Great, you’re coming. I knew you couldn’t resist showing off. Let’s go!”

“This is not about showing off,” hissed Amber as she followed him, both of them crouching low to the ground. “It’s about paying off my debts. You helped me back in Hopeswell, so I’m just returning the favor. Midnight missions with you aren’t going to become a habit.”

“Sure. Whatever.”

Amber checked when they got to the trees. “You brought a silfyl?” The creature raised its cat-like head. Its eyes glowed green.

“Of course.” Kael leaped on, and then held a hand out to Amber. She scrambled behind him. “Hold on!”

***

Night flying was even more exhilarating than that first time. Amber closed her eyes and focused on the patterns around her—ephemeral scarves of wind, distant glittering structures of rock, the restless dance of the sea, the intricate, organic machinery of the silfyl, and the amazing, multi-colored patterns of the human—

Amber checked herself, face flushing. How terribly rude to examine someone else’s patterns that way, especially since she had to sit so close to the sun mage. She had an excellent view of Kael’s broad shoulders and the shell-like feathers shimmering in his messy hair. He radiated warmth and solidity that was hard to resist.

Amber’s education had not prepared her for close proximity to other people, especially of the male persuasion.

“Hold on to me,” said Kael.

“What?!”

“You’re going to fall off, Amber.”

Amber put a hand on his shoulder.

Kael shrugged, the movement far too intimate under her palm. “If you fall, I suppose I could catch you.”

“I’m not planning on falling.” Amber grabbed at wind-torn patterns and wove them around her in a net. She risked removing her hand.

There. All better now. I just have to keep focused on these patterns in case I lose my balance. Focus, Amber.

Of course, now she couldn’t enjoy the beautiful night and the wonderful flying, and the constant battle against the wind’s erosion of her spellwork was giving her a headache—

—but it was worth it for the sake of improvement, right?

“We’re here.”

Amber opened her eyes. Touro island rose above Kael’s shoulder, a tall, dark building atop it. Defensive patterns swirled all around the place.

That’s right. Kaidan mages used air currents as their magical medium.

“Time to get off.” Kael pointed at the dark water below them. He added, “You can swim, can’t you, Amber?”

“Ummmmm….”

“Better stay close to me, then.” He twisted around, put his arm around her waist, and lid off the silfyl.

“That’s got to be the eleven billionth time, you crazy sun-mages!” Amber’s words were lost in the wind. They landed in the water with a splash, Amber with a yelp. Her mist-cloak swirled atop the surface; the rest of her clothes were instantly water-logged and dragging.

Above them, the silfyl made a wide turn and headed back towards land. Amber watched it longingly.

“Fun, isn’t it?” Kael’s suns glowed as they boosted his body heat and, for all Amber knew, his buoyancy.

“It’s freezing!” Great. I’m stuck in this cold dark WET water with a risk-taking, danger-seeking mage. All sun mages recharged their magic in physical and emotional ways. A mage could gain energy through mundane things like eating and exercise, or through absorbing certain kinds of energy through the patterns of the world. There were mages who recharged by sticking their hands in fire and others by eating snow.

Emotional energy also recharged magic power. Anger, joy, love, desire, jealousy—all the tints and shades of emotion were available for harvest, based on the individual. It was the twisted passions of the ruling family of Serepentina—the feeding on pain and fear—that caused their ultimate downfall.

Amber was unusual in that her nodes were like ordinary people’s. She used magical energy in low amounts, and it all came from her environment.

Luckily, water was a great source for Amber. Free-flowing nodes bobbed against her body, and she greedily slurped up the energy from them.

The water around Amber warmed. She gave Kael a grateful look. “Thanks.”

“No problem. Let’s go!”

Amber grabbed his collar. “Not so fast, hotshot. What’s the plan?”

“We bust in, you do your witchy thing, we grab the sword, and leave. If any Torou wimps show up, I fight them.” He looked way too happy about the fighting part.

“Bust in?” Amber raised her eyebrows, though it was really hard to maintain that warning look when one was drenched and clinging to the offender’s arm.

“I meant sneak in, of course,” Kael amended, “while avoiding any and all traps and guards.”

“And if we’re caught?” Regret gnawed the inside of Amber’s stomach. What was it about Kael that swept other people into his madcap schemes?

“Breaking into each other’s school is practically a tradition,” Kael assured her. “The masters will overlook it. Besides, I know for a fact that the faculty was invited to dine and stay over at the Governor’s mansion in Marylebow tonight. Master Zoya got the invitation, too.”

“They can’t all have gone,” Amber pointed out.

“Enough of them are.”

“Kael, they’re not going to be happy with us running off with the sword.”

There was silence, broken only by the lap of wavelets against their bodies. Amber drew the pattern around her, keeping her afloat. A swirl of the warm currents did the same for Kael.

Kael said softly, “There is no doubt, no legal doubt, that the sword is Troi’s. If it turns up in his hand tomorrow morning, there’s not much Torou can do. You’re taking Magical Law and Ethics with Blunkett; you should know how the law strongly favors the rights of the owner of a magical artifact.”

“Well, yes.” This was true even in Ravin; Amber knew of several cases of mayhem and mischief caused by magical artifacts separated from their rightful owners—however you defined those. The Wicked Walking Stick and the Magical Menace of Mapleton were two particularly well-known examples in her homeland.

She tilted her head. “I’m surprised you’re so well-versed in magical law, Kael.”

Even in the starlight, his smile was quick and bright. “I did have to take the class four times, after all.”

“Oh.” Amber searched for something positive to say about this. “That sounds like a… school record.”

“It is.” Kael squeezed her shoulder. “Don’t worry. You won’t get into trouble. People expect me to do crazy things and talk others into them. There are advantages to being a reckless, uncultured nobody. After all, I don’t really know enough of Kaidan traditions to understand the implications of my actions, right?” A wry smile tugged at his mouth.

Amber blinked. This shrewd practicality was new. “I… I suppose so.”

“Then let’s get going. Torou’s defensive spells are weak at the water’s edge.” And with that, Kael arrowed into the water, leaving Amber staring after him.

Was he really coolly exploiting his own reputation as an “act first, think later” type? I might need to re-evaluate my opinion of Kael, Amber thought as she followed.

Author’s Note: Kael surprised me at the end. I didn’t realize he had the self-awareness to take advantage of his character “type.” He’s a funny mixture of easygoing and rashness and, apparently, cool calculation! I’ll have to keep a closer eye on him and see how his character develops. 

To make up for yesterday’s debacle, Amber arrived at Master Cinbar’s training area extra early, hair braided and pinned, dressed in practice gear. She’d taken possession of her rooms in the girl’s dormitory last evening, stretched out on the bed to shut her eyes for a few minutes, and promptly fallen asleep for the next several hours.

She’d missed dinner again. Fortunately, Ainsley had left a cold supper and note outside her door, but Amber thought it better not to make a habit of skipping meals with the rest of the school.

A nap had done her no good. Amber had spent the rest of the night lightly dozing, awakening frequently to check the time. It had been a relief when it was finally six o’clock.

Now, ten minutes before the appointed time, Amber crossed the dew-speckled grass under a lightening sky just flushing with dawn. She passed through a line of trees and into a hollow. A pond gleamed to her left; a gazebo sat upon a man-made island right in the center of it. In front of her was a grey-stone house with a pitched roof of slate tiles. A path led up to the front door, but Amber took the fork that meandered down the side of the house and to the back.

The clash of steel upon steel assured her she was going in the right direction. Amber rounded the corner and stopped, staring.

Master Cinbar and Troi sparred together in the cleared yard, swords blurred lines of silver in their hands. They moved like cats, light and lithe. Master Cinbar lunged, so fast Amber had barely time to gasp before Troi blocked the attack. His blade snaked out in counter-attack, but Master Cinbar had already stepped away. Troi’s style was dangerous but flashy; the Master’s graceful in its economy of movement.

They were both good, but the Master was better. Now that Amber was no longer enchanted by the initial dazzle of their swordplay, she saw how Master Cinbar pressed his opponent, pushing Troi to the brink.

But most surprising of all was the look on Troi’s face, a fierce joy, a leaping aliveness.

She had, Amber thought, never seen him so happy.

Curious, Amber surveyed the fight with her mage sight. The pattern rippled and flowed around the two combatants. Troi’s magical nodes glowed softly, but she couldn’t make out Master Cinbar’s at all. The master was well-shielded, but neither of the two used magic.

Or… maybe not. Troi moved well, but he still got tangled in the pattern’s invisible threads from time to time. They tore apart and reformed around him, giving him just the tiniest bit of resistance, costing him just a fraction of a second, expending just a bit more energy.

The master, on the other hand, moved with the shimmering flow of magical energy, aligning himself with, not against, the pattern.

Fascinating.

The swords met again. Master Cinbar twisted his wrist, and his blade disengaged first, stabbed through the air, and the point came to rest at the base of Troi’s throat.

“Well done,” he said, low and pleased.

Troi, panting, hair falling across his forehead, said, “I almost had you there, a few times, sir. Someday soon…”

Master Cinbar laughed. “I’ll postpone that day as best I can,” he promised.

Troi’s grin was fierce. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Master Cinbar stepped back and sheathed his sword. Troi did the same, though with a slight tremble that spoke of exhaustion.

“Miss Shelburne,” said Master Cinbar without turning his head. “You had better warm up now.”

Troi looked over at Amber, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. And then it was gone as Troi swiftly but surely withdrew. Amber fancied she could almost see the shutters come down over his face as he locked himself away from the world.

Now his expression was the one of habitual boredom. Amber almost hissed in annoyance at the sight.

“Over here, Miss Shelburne.”

Amber hurried over to her instructor, putting Troi out of her mind. She couldn’t be distracted by the enigmatic Kaidan when she had a chance to redeem herself.

 

Twenty minutes later and redemption was far from her grasp.

She was, as it turned out, not a natural swordswoman. Or even an average one.

Amber held the wooden practice sword gingerly, as if it might turn into a snake at any moment. It felt all wrong in her hand, and her movements as she went through the first few practice drills were stiff, unnatural, and lackluster.

Master Cinbar watched with narrowed eyes. He’d corrected her grip, her stance, how she moved the sword. But he hadn’t said anything for the last few minutes. Amber gritted her teeth and endured.

It was only one practice lesson. Once he saw she was no good, she’d be back with Mistress Blunkett and others closer to her skill level.

“Troi.” Master Cinbar beckoned the boy closer. The point of Amber’s sword wavered with her surprise. Maser Cinbar said, “Perhaps an opponent will help you understand these blocking drills better.”

Troi’s face was as wooden as the practice sword he picked up. He and Amber faced each other. Her heart hammered.

“Begin.”

Troi attacked. In slow motion. With about as much force as a newborn kitten.

Still Amber barely blocked him.

Troi disengaged, attacked again. Amber managed to swat his point away.

Again the blade swept for her.

What’s next? thought Amber, panicking. What was the next part of the drill?

Too late. She screwed her eyes shut, wincing away from the blow.

It never came.

Amber cracked open her eyes. Troi’s wooden sword was poised at her neck.

Then he tapped her on the head with it.

“Ow!” said Amber, more indignant than hurt.

“Don’t close your eyes, dummy!” Troi stalked back to his place. The look he threw her was irritated. As Master Cinbar watched—was there a glimmer of amusement in the teacher’s eyes?—Troi said, “Now, again.”

 

Troi was at her lesson the next day and the day after. Amber wondered why Master Cinbar wasted his time like this, but she couldn’t deny it was effective. Every time Troi faced her with a bored look on his face, Amber couldn’t help but want to do something—anything—to wipe it off.

At least she held the sword properly now. Amber cringed at the memory of Troi’s face when his sword had met hers a little too hard during a drill and the jarring contact had made her drop the wooden blade.

It was his two-koppa witch expression.

She hadn’t dropped the sword since.

On the fourth day, after more blocking drills, Master Cinbar said, with a gleam in his eye that Amber mistrusted, “I think we should make time for sparring today.”

Troi straightened, eyes lit up with unholy glee. “Excellent idea, sir.”

“But, sir,” Amber appealed to the master, “he’s miles better than I am. And just look at his face. He can’t wait to squish me flatter than a pancake.”

“We’re using wooden swords, Miss Shelburne,” said Master Cinbar with a straight face. “I’d like to see how you do in a combat situation. However, in order to level the playing field, Troi is confined to using only the practice sword. Miss Shelburne may use all the weapons at her disposal.”

“I’ll still beat her,” said Troi with a snort.

All her weapons? Did that include magic? As Amber took her place, sword ready, she decided it must mean so. How else was she to beat Troi?

When Master Cinbar said, “Begin,” she reached for the pattern.

Troi was right there faster than she’d expected. His sword flickered towards her. Amber scuttled back, tripped on a rock, and fell on her rump.

Looming above her, Troi said, “At least get your sword into guard position. I know you can do that much.”

“It’s hard to do two things at the same time,” she grumbled, scrambling back to her feet.

Troi raised his eyebrows and sword. “Then learn. Quickly.” He attacked.

Amber squeaked and ducked to the side. The wooden sword whistled through the air and rapped her on the hip.

“Now you’re bleeding from a leg wound,” said Troi conversationally. “What will you do next?” He slashed at her, but Amber managed to block the strike. Barely.

Troi disengaged as Amber circled him warily, keeping out of his reach. Then he stepped forward…

… right into a patch of uneven footing where she’d cut the pattern. Troi stumbled, and Amber, waiting for that, rushed in, extending her sword arm. Blast him, but he was already recovering…

Her sword point met Troi’s chest just as his blade rested against her neck.

Amber let out her breath in a long sigh.

Master Cinbar called out, “That’s enough for today, then.”

Troi gave her a grim nod, and they both turned to bow to Master Cinbar. Troi left quickly, but Amber, shaky now that the adrenalin rush was gone, remained.

Master Cinbar said soberly, “It was a draw there, at the end, but Troi was right. In a real fight, you wouldn’t have made it this far.”

“I know.” Amber closed her eyes, as her pounding heart settled down to a slower tempo. “I know.” She opened her eyes and gave Master Cinbar a direct look. “Why are you and Troi both wasting your time with me, sir? You know that I’ll never be a great swordswoman.”

“Teaching you to stay alive,” said Master Cinbar gently, “is not a waste of my time. Have you forgotten that your erstwhile employer has already sent his thugs after you? Because we at Heartwood have not.”

Amber shivered. “But surely they won’t come all the way here!”

“Do you wish to wager your freedom, your life, on that, Miss Shelburne?”

Amber was silent. Then, slowly, she shook her head.

“Your magic is unique and versatile.” A smile broke Master Cinbar’s face. “I’ve already had to listen—from many Masters, not just my wife—just how amazing it is. They want me to teach you to stay alive long enough to use it.” He paused. “I think you can win with it. Fighting well is not only for sun mages.”

Again that gleam in his eyes, but at least now she understood his purpose, at least a little bit. Still, the way he said that…

“Master Cinbar,” she said, “when you and Troi fight, it’s always without magic. Still, the way you move… do you… sense the pattern, too?”

His smile was wry. “Miss Shelburne, I have no magic.”

She stared.

“And yet, even I can hold my own in a sun mages’ world.” He nodded at her. “Think on that the next time you doubt yourself, the next time you call yourself “stupid” in your own head. If you get in the habit of doing that, you’ll lose your fight before you even step foot on the battle field.”

A bell rang out from within the house. Master Cinbar tilted his head. “Time for breakfast. You had best go get your own.”

“Ah, yes. Thank you.” The words came out in a rush. “For these lessons and everything else too.” She bowed and the master sketched a good-humored gesture of dismissal.

As she hurried away, his words came back to her.

Fighting well is not only for sun mages.

Amber smiled.

Read Episode 4.

Author’s Note: Sorry for the unintended break! Family sickness and other responsibilities took a large bite out of my time.

I’ve decided to change up the way I’m doing the serial. Instead of one short episode a week, I’m moving to longer episodes every other week. I hope it’ll be easier to be immersed in the story with longer episodes.

Next week, Amber’s invited along on an unauthorized midnight mission. I think you can guess who instigates it!

The rest of her morning was not as humiliating, but no less busy. Amber ran from room to room and from Master to Master. She spilled ink, brewed potions, lifted weights, struck fires, wrote runes, answered a slew of bizarre questions, and more.

Amber had no idea what the Masters were looking for. This assessment was nothing like the standardized magic tests she had taken back in Ravin.

It was afternoon by the time Amber reached the last door. She was exhausted in mind, body, and spirit, and running on the last vestiges of last night’s cakes. Almost, she was willing to gnaw through the stale bun still in her pocket.

The door she’d been directed to was on the highest floor, save for the attics. The bronze nameplate said Kristoff in beautiful cursive. Amber put her hands on her thighs, bending down and catching her breath. She’d walked up and down many steps today.

The hallway was covered with golden-hued, fine-grained floorboards. A red carpet with black and golden geometric designs ran down the middle of it.

Amber straightened and knocked on the door. Earlier in the day, she’d sent her magical senses questing outwards into new situations, but by now she was too overwhelmed and tired to take in and make sense of all that information.

Light footsteps sounded, and the door was flung open with enthusiastic energy. Amber’s gaze took in a long, well-lit south-facing chamber, with a bank of windows opposite her, then traveled down to the little old man who stood beaming at her as if she were his long-lost granddaughter.

“Amberlin,” he piped in welcome. “There you are at last! Come in, come in. You must be exhausted, child!” He gestured her in, and Amber found herself herded across the wooden floor, past shelves of fabric and baskets of yarn and towards a low table surrounded by plump floor cushions in shades of green.

She sank on one the color of new spring growth, almost sighing as she took her weight off her feet. The last Master had had her standing at a long table topped with a white marble slab, mixing brightly-colored liquids and powders together. For an entire hour.

Pity that all Amber produced were muddy solutions and bad smells.

She hoped the Master would forgive the reek of rotten eggs she’d left behind.

Master Kristoff (she presumed) seated himself on an emerald cushion, as regal as an emperor. The effect was spoiled almost immediately, however, for he shot up again, pattered to a sideboard, and rushed back with a plate full of cookies.

The table was spread for high tea, with thin, trembling sandwiches; scones and jam; and a plateful of light, fluffy pastries. Amber managed, just in time, not to drool all over them.

“Eat, eat,” urged Master Kristoff. He placed the cookies enticingly in front of Amber,and hurried to the other side to pour her tea. “You must be hungry! You’ve come all the way from Ravin!” He shook his head, as if Amber had made the journey from Oaktown to Heartwood in one fell swoop.

“And how are you today?” Master Kristoff went on. “Is Heartwood treating you well?” He seemed so anxious about her well-being that Amber hurried to reassure him she was, despite her famished appearance, feeling fine. Wonderful, in fact.

The worry faded from Master Kristoff’s blue eyes. He beamed. “And I hope you left your family well? They must miss you.”

Bemused, Amber replied, “They’re all quite hale and healthy, thank you.” She wondered if this excessive hospitality was a feature of Master Kristoff’s home culture or his own personality. Had he looked at her paperwork to familiarize himself with her background?

“Good, good!” Master Kristoff clapped his hands together. “Now, tell me all about Oaktown. It must’ve changed in all these years.”

Master Kristoff, as it turned out, had traveled extensively in some distant past. He plied Amber with questions about Ravin, which she answered between mouthfuls of sandwich and sips of black tea with sugar and milk.

As they talked, Master Kristoff knitted, his small hands silver-quick with the needles. A square of green knitting took shape—he must be very fond of the color.

“I wonder, my dear,” he said just as Amber laid down a quarter-sandwich that she absolutely had no more room for, “if you could help me untangle this here.” He nodded towards a nearby basket, which contained a knotted mess of yarn.

“Of course.” Amber shifted over to another cushion—this one the color of dusty-dark summer leaves—and began extracting a sunny yellow thread from the tangle.

“The younger pupils sometimes forget to be careful about keeping the sprites out,” he explained. “And the creatures do love to make mischief.” He frowned. “Or was it cats that got into it this time?”

“Sprites? I think there was one in the girls’ bathroom today,” said Amber, her fingers busy. She hadn’t knitted in ages, but the feel of the yarn, the lingering taste of afternoon tea, and the press of sunshine on her neck were homey and soothing. Even the pattern here was quiescent. Almost, she began to be comfortable.

“Ah, yes. They’ve been trying to encourage it to leave for a while. I’m afraid we might need stronger measures.” Master Kristoff left both knitting and yarn, and hurried over to a stool and spindle. He spun a spun a light, glittery wool as they chatted about the different textiles he’d seen in his island journeys.

Maybe, thought Amber, winding yarn around her fingers, Master Kristoff will take me on as his apprentice when Master Cinbar sees that I’m no good as a combat mage.

By the time her hour was up, Amber was well-fed and relaxed, and there were several neat balls of yarn lined up on Master Kristoff’s table. Master Kristoff beamed at the sight.

He made a great fuss of her as she thanked him on her way out. “Good bye, good bye! It was lovely to visit. How you have grown! So wonderful to see you again!”

It was after the door had shut behind him that his words registered. Amber frowned at the panels.

How I’ve grown? And what did he mean—again?

           

First the memory moth, now Master Kristoff. Amber didn’t know what to make of it. Deep in thought, she clattered down the steps to the next landing, turned, and squeaked in surprise.

Troi leaned against the wall, his arms folded, head tilted back. His eyes shifted to meet her gaze, but otherwise he made no move.

Amber gave him an uncertain look, then slipped past him. Troi pushed away from the wall and fell into step beside her. They took the next set of stairs in silence.

It was unnerving.

Amber went through possible conversation starters in her mind, rejecting Hello, How’s it going? and Were you waiting for me?

This was Troi after all. He didn’t seem to be the sort of guy who had any patience with social pleasantries.

Amber finally settled for, “How’d you know where I’d be?”

“I’m on your friends’ list on your cryst.”

Amber resisted the urge to check the tablet tucked into her skirt pocket. “I don’t remember putting you on there.” She’d seen the Friends category on her screen and decided that it was too much like school.

“I added myself.”

“You have a habit of getting into other people’s crysts?” Now she’d make extra sure that there was nothing on there for Troi to snoop into. Note to self: Put a really nasty spell on anyone who tries to get into my finances folder.

Troi stuck his hands in his pockets. “I wrote many of the runic spells for the crysts in the first place. It wasn’t too hard to get into yours. Most people make spell changes to theirs right away.”

“Well, excuse me. I haven’t had much time to tinker with it yet, you know.” There was a new pattern near Troi, a powerful one. Her gaze dropped to the dagger at his belt. Hmm. He hadn’t had that with him in Hopeswell. She’d have recognized the signature of it right away.

He shrugged.

Amber sighed. “And the reason for this sudden friendliness is…?”

“Lisette’s looking for you. She has to take you to the girls’ dormitory, but you haven’t been answering your cryst messages.”

Amber cringed. She could just picture Lisette getting more and more exasperated by the hour.

“And,” Troi continued, “Kael asked me to keep an eye out for you.”

“And why’d he do that?”

“Dunno.” Troi shrugged again. “Maybe his head’s finally gone as soft as his heart.”

“Where’s he off to, anyway?”

“A job with Master Zoya. Some yuka have been bothering miners in the northern mountains. He likes to have a chance to knock their heads together.”

Bling! Bling! Bling bling bling! Amber jumped as something buzzed at her hip. “What the–?”

“Don’t tell me you had the cryst set to vibrate and ring at the same time?” Troi shook his head as if she were a hopeless case.

“Yeah, yeah.” Amber pulled out the cryst and poked at the screen. “You can laugh at me all you want later, but can you at least get it to stop?” The alarm spells were playing havoc with her pattern senses. Her stomach was queasy.

Troi took the cryst, spread his palm out over it. Tiny runes danced in the blue glow between his hand and the screen. The cryst stopped bling-ing and Amber’s blue-sparked vision went back to normal. “There. You might want to turn off some of these notifications, though.”

Amber stared at the screen, stunned. “What the–?” HOMEWORK ASSIGNMENTS DUE! blared a bright red headline. The Duty Roster button blinked a furious yellow. Pink-bordered invitations to everything from Amazing Card Tricks in the Bluish-Green Room Tonight! to dance classes with someone called Yana. Plaintive purple messages about lost items and a red-tagged request to get rid of the water sprite in the girls’ bathroom.

And about a hundred messages from Lisette, all on the theme of, “Where are you?” The most recent ones were rather irate.

Troi snorted. “Kael shouldn’t have worried. Looks like you’ll have no problem making friends or keeping yourself busy.”

“I don’t know most of these people!” wailed Amber, frantically closing notifications.

“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow morning, then.” Troi started to walk away. “Don’t keep Master Cinbar waiting. Nor me.”

Amber looked up from her furiously blinking screen. “What do you mean?”

Troi raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t you know? I’m your practice partner.”

And with that, he was gone.

Read Episode 3.

Author’s Note: More mysteries about Amber’s background, huh? And now she and Troi are going to be thrown together more. That doesn’t sound like much fun for Amber, but I think this development is going to tie in very well with the main events of the Whispering Winds Arc. Or at least I hope. 🙂

Amber and co. are back! Sorry for the delay; it was longer than I anticipated. Now on to the fun magic school and mayhem part!

Despite her determination, Amber had no time for any personal quests the next day. She woke up in a panic in an unfamiliar bed, heart pounding, knowing immediately that she was late.

She half-fell out of bed, wrestled her way out of the sheets that had twisted around her like some serpentine monster, snatched up some clothes, and sprinted to the bathroom. When she turned on the faucet to brush her teeth, a jet of cold water sprayed in the face. She was sure she heard a tiny giggle and caught a flutter of movement from the corner of her eye.

Well, then.

Breakfast was over by the time she found her way to the dining hall. The room was empty save for a boy about eleven or twelve years old desultorily wiping the scarred tabletops with a damp rag. His features were Serepentine, but his skin a warm light brown and his eyes a dark blue. Amber hopefully made for the sideboard, but all that remained in the lone bread basket was a hard whole-grain bun, studded with every seed and dried fruit under the sun, a combination that not many people were excited about.

Amber took it because there was nothing else, and last night’s soggy dessert was long digested. Her stomach rumbled.

“Where is everyone?” she asked the boy.

He shrugged. “Probably at the Training Grounds. That’s where everyone starts their day. Unless they’re stuck on kitchen duty.” His tone was disgusted.

A foreboding feeling settled over Amber. “Am I supposed to be there?”

“Probably.” The boy gave her a cheeky grin. “If you’d been at your welcome dinner last night, they’d have told you.”

“Don’t start,” groaned Amber. She thrust the bun into her jacket pocket and sprinted for the training fields.

She found herself grateful to Lisette for showing them to her so thoroughly the previous day.

 

Half-an-hour later, Amber wondered why she’d been in such a hurry to get there. Luckily, the Master in charge—it was Jex—had dismissed her stammering apologies and waved her over the side for warmups.

It didn’t take long for her to discover that her age-mates outclassed her on all levels.

The aerial sparring and boulder weight-lifting exercises were her first clue. When it became apparent she had no clue what to do with a practice sword in her hand, Jex sent her off to train with the younger students in an adjacent field.

Well, thought Amber as she walked away, trying not to shuffle her feet in combined embarrassment and reluctance. This is a combat magic school after all.

The younger mages looked to be no older than fourteen, except for Ainsley. The blond gave Amber a big grin when she joined their group.

“Don’t worry,” Ainsley whispered. “We do have several support mages. There are more of us delicate types around than you might expect of a combat school.”

“Listen up!” yelled Mistress Blunkett (she had emphasized the Mistress), a large woman with frizzy hair and a whistle around her neck who reminded Amber forcibly of the sports mistress at her prep school. “Get your sparring partners, and remember it doesn’t matter who wins as long as everyone tries their best!”

Same loud voice, same unhealthy enthusiasm for exercise, same rallying cry—yep, some things never change.

Amber looked at the group of youngsters. They all looked like they could wipe the floor with her. Especially disturbing were the boy with a maniacal gleam in his eyes and electric sizzle emanating from his skin and a blank-faced girl with rocks orbiting alarmingly fast around her.

She seized Ainsley by the hand before anyone else could claim the paper mage. “Will you be my partner? Please?!”

“Sure, I will.” Ainsley squeezed Amber’s hand with equal fervor. “I don’t feel like getting destroyed today. We’ll be wimpy together.”

The two squared off.

“Ready!” shouted Mistress Blunkett.

Ainsley tossed handfuls of paper birds into the air.

“Set!”

Amber twitched threads into a shield before her, then reached out for the pattern around Ainsley’s feet. Sorry, but I do have to try my best. It worked with Needle Guy, after all.

“GO!”

 

It was over in less than a minute. Amber lay on the ground, paper birds fluttering over her head. Ainsley knelt beside her.

“I’m so sorry, Amber! I’ve never defeated anyone with my birds before. I didn’t think they could take you out like that.”

“Haven’t you ever heard of death by a thousand paper cuts?” Amber sat up. “It’s all right. They didn’t push me down. I tripped on a stupid rock and fell over.” A blue bird with a gold floral pattern landed on her shoulder and snuggled into the crook of her neck.

All around them, one-on-one battles continued to rage in whips of air, lashes of water, and magic-fueled punches and kicks.

Mistress Blunkett hurried up and gave Amber a quick once-over. “No blood, no broken bones,” she announced. “Did you hit your head anywhere?”

“No.”

“Anything else hurt?”

Only my pride. “Not much.”

Mistress Blunkett gave a brisk nod. “Even so, you’d better sit out for a little while.” She tilted her head, looking at Amber out of bright black eyes. She seemed about to say something, then changed her mind with a shake of her head.

So much for impressing her, thought Amber gloomily. She rose to her feet, Ainsley holding her arm for balance.

The paper mage glanced over Amber’s shoulder. Her eyes widened. “Look, it’s Master Cinbar.”

Almost at the same time, all the trainees stopped what they were doing and turned to stare at the tall man coming towards them, his long coat flapping in the wind.

Ainsley whispered, “They say he’s the best swordsman in the Serepentine Isles. Everyone fights to attract his notice, but he takes on only a few advanced students at a time. Troi’s one of them.”

Well, he’s certainly not here for me. Amber could feel the force of the man’s personality like the intensity of sun on desert sand. Besides, he looked distinctly irate. Those startling blue eyes in his dark face were fairly snapping.

Master Cinbar stopped and gave a courteous nod of the head to Mistress Blunkett. “Apologies for interrupting your lesson, Mistress Blunkett, but I believe my student has accidentally strayed into your class.”

His stern gaze swept over the students and stopped at Amber. “Miss Shelburne.”

Amber straightened. “Um, yes? Sir?” Now everyone was looking from Master Cinbar to Amber and back again, in synchronized head-turning. It was creepy.

“You’re supposed to be in a training session with me right now.”

“I-I am?” Amber stuttered stupidly.

Master Cinbar looked at her silently for a long moment. Amber wilted.

“Don’t be late tomorrow.” He turned and strode away. The wind caught his coat and blew it back, revealing a sheathed long sword at his waist.

Everyone breathed, as if released from a spell. Mistress Blunkett gestured for her pupils to resume. She glanced at Amber and, once again, gave that tiny shake of her head.

“Breathe, Amber.” Ainsley rubbed Amber’s hands.

“That—look! Is that how he fells his opponents? By glaring them to death?” Amber shuddered. “I feel for his wife.”

Ainsley laughed as she helped Amber up. “Considering that his wife is Master Zoya, I think you can stop feeling sorry for her. She can take care of herself.”

“They’re a well-matched couple, then.” Amber hobbled off the sparring arena. “What could Master Cinbar want with me?”

“He probably wants to evaluate you.”

“Well, if he’d come only a few minutes earlier, he’d have had his chance.” Amber rubbed her hip. “Ow.”

Read Episode 2. 

Author’s Note: Poor Amber. Not the most promising of starts, but of course, we can’t expect things to be too easy for her, right? But settling into Heartwood is not the only thing Amber has to worry about. Coming up in future episodes: air ninjas!