Prince Noralv- Edge of Shadows Read online

  “Can I get you to mend him the best you can, Vanya?” Quentin asked.

  “Would I do otherwise?” she said crossly. “But it will take some time tonight.” Her face softened.

  “I trust you,” said Quentin.

  She had me lay back on the examining bed. “You need to lay still. This may hurt a little, but it’s only because your bones are mending.”

  I gave one nod.

  Her petite hands were cool as she placed them on my ribs. Quentin pushed his fingers into my hair so his fingertips were against my scalp. My annoyance with him simmered. I wanted to yell at him, or at least tell him to give me space, but I swallowed that urge.

  Vanya’s hands turned warm, and the warmth spread through my torso. Tingles spread across my chest.

  “Breathe,” Vanya said quietly.

  My breathing had become shallow, and I reminded myself to breathe deeper. Quentin’s fingertips gripped tighter. His eyes were closed. His head was turned slightly to the side as if he were listening for something.

  An ache grew across my ribs and the tingles vibrated, concentrating in my chest.

  Dimness’s energy, the Goddess of Dark, swirled somewhere deep within me.

  Release me! she shouted. With a gasp, I bolted straight up. Pain flared across my chest. I curled forward and wrapped my arms around my torso.

  “Thayne,” Vanya said calmly. “Are you alright?”

  I tilted my chin toward Quentin. “Ask him.” I slid off the examining bed and grabbed my tunic.

  Vanya frowned as she looked at Quentin. He shook his head and met her with a frown of his own.

  “Please lie back down, Thayne,” Quentin said in a calm tone, but I knew he was irritated.

  I slipped my arms into the sleeves and wrapped the tunic closed. “I’m done.”

  “Vanya still needs to finish her treatment on you.” Quentin rounded the bed and approached me.

  My temper was on the cusp of exploding. If Quentin thought he could control my actions, he was greatly mistaken. The goddess’s energy churned inside me. My body trembled. As annoyed as I was with Quentin, I still needed his help with finding a way to remove Dimness’s energy from mine, which irked me more.

  “It’s okay. We don’t need to finish the treatment tonight,” said Vanya. “You’ll have to take it easy for about a week, though.” Vanya went to the shelf and pulled a basket toward her.

  Quentin grabbed my wrist as I reached for my sash that was lying at the end of the bed. I didn’t look at him, but I could feel him looking at me.

  “Here we are,” said Vanya.

  Quentin leaned in and took the sash with his free hand then released me.

  “He can use this salve for his cuts and bruises. It will help with healing and pain,” said Vanya.

  Remaining still, I stared at the bed. The energy of the goddess was still swirling around in my body, flowing from my head, down to my feet, and back again. I wanted it to stop. I also wanted Quentin to leave me alone.

  “Thank you, Vanya,” said Quentin. I could feel the warmth of his body as he moved closer to me. “I can see that you are stubborn.” He lowered his voice. “Like your mother, in fact.” Quentin paused. Him mentioning my mother was like a punch to the stomach. It was a painful reminder how far away my family or anything familiar was. “Either me or Vanya will put this salve on you. You can refuse. But then you’ll learn just how stubborn I can be as well.”

  I looked up at Quentin’s hardened face. My stomach tightened, and Dimness’s energy pulsed. I gripped the opening of my tunic closed. He said I had a choice, in Hatherine’s office, on whether I was to learn beaulecraft or not, but it was that moment that I realized I truly didn’t have a choice. He meant for me to learn it. No question. My life and my choices were never my own. Not in the inner berg, and not here.

  Staring back at the bed, I slowly released my tunic and let my hand rest at my side. Quentin pulled off my tunic, and I didn’t fight it. I didn’t move at all. He and Vanya moved around me as they both rubbed the salve on my wounds.

  Quentin pulled the bandage off my mutilated ear. I swallowed. My face flushed. My ear cuff was the only object that would’ve told the outside world where I belonged. The Redtails viciously stole that from me, along with everything else. The goddess raged in me as my anger rose.

  I knew Quentin felt it. It angered me more. He re-bandaged my wounded ear.

  Release me! Release me! Dimness was screaming again.

  I turned to Quentin to rebuke him for not doing anything about the goddess’s rising energy when I saw him pinching his eyes closed. He shot his hand out and grabbed my face. My hands squeezed his wrist. I tried to pull away. His fingers and arm were like iron. Immovable.

  “Quen…” I squirmed in his grip.

  His other hand touched my chest then his finger drew a line down the center of me to just above my bellybutton. His finger pushed deep in my belly. Warmth spread throughout my body from where Quentin pushed. Dimness’s rage settled in an instant. My anger was a mere fraction of what hers was, and it was the only anger left behind. Soon, my anger subsided even though I wanted to hang on to it.

  Tears burned my eyes. Quentin released me.

  “What … what did you do?” I tried to hang on to the last shred of anger that I had, but my voice lost all force. Quentin handed me my tunic and sash. I took them.

  “The God of Light, Leoht, calms Dimness. I merely asked for his help.” Quentin stepped away from me.

  “Merely.” I scoffed. Turning away from Quentin, I put on my tunic and tied my sash around my middle. “You could have at least told me that was what you were doing.” My voice became louder as I spoke. Turning back, I bowed quickly to Vanya and left the room with a satisfying slam of the door behind me.

  Within moments, I could feel Quentin following me as I went back to the sugian hall. Through the door that led from academic side to the beaulecraft side of the academy, I slid it closed with a bang. By the time I reached the sugian door, Quentin caught up with me. He caught the door mid-slide.

  “Quit trying to wreck the doors.” Quentin was curt.

  I glared at him.

  The sugian hall was quiet. Only Frans and Isa Hatherine were sitting by the hearth that was still roaring with fire. Then I felt guilty for being so loud.

  Isa and Frans both stood to greet us.

  “Most everyone has already turned in. Would you like to turn in as well?” Frans asked.

  I felt and probably looked disheveled. They kept glancing between Quentin and me.

  “That would be best,” said Quentin.

  “We could put you both in a spare room, but due to the tournament supplies, you’ll be sharing it with our storage. Or we can have you both stay in one of the dorm rooms as there are a couple beds still available,” said Frans.

  “The dorm room is fine,” said Quentin.

  “Very well. Follow me.”

  Everything about Frans was cheery. Even if it was getting late. I wondered if he was like that all the time.

  Frans led up to the second floor to the dorms of the academy. There was a landing at the top of the stairs. One door to the left and one to the right. The door to the left was the girl’s side, and the one to the right was for the boys.

  Frans escorted us to a room at the end of the boy’s hallway. There were eight beds in the room. Four lined each wall. Each bed had a trunk at the end and a side table to the left. Everything was uniform.

  There was a boy snoring away, sprawled out on his bed with a pillow over his head. Another was sitting and reading by his lantern light. A third was digging around in his trunk at the end of his bed.

  “Good evening, boys,” said Frans. “You have a couple of guests staying with you tonight.” Frans gestured to us. “You all know Hunter Quentin, and this is his ward, Thayne of House Dwennon. They will be sleeping in here tonight.”

  They all looked at me as if they weren’t sure whether I was friend or foe.

  “So, is Thayne
, like, your prisoner or something?” said the lanky boy with a sandy mop of hair, who was digging around in his trunk.

  “Cassian! What a thing to say,” said Frans. I squeezed my lips tight and swallowed a nasty word. “Forgive him. He is a mouthy one.” Frans bowed to me.

  Quentin chuckled. “No, Cass. He isn’t my prisoner,” said Quentin.

  I caught the emphasis on the word ‘my’ and wondered if the others did, too. He probably meant I was a prisoner of Heardnebba, but the shackles were invisible.

  “The beds by the door are free to use. Please help yourselves,” said Frans. He approached the boys at the end of the room. “Alex, close your book and go to sleep. Cass, you’ve earned yourself some time with me lighting the fires in the morning.”

  “But I’ve already got barn duty,” Cassian whined.

  “And now you also have fires to tend to. I guess you’ll definitely need your sleep now,” said Frans. “Remao has the right idea.” Frans indicated the boy sleeping soundly. “Follow his example.”

  Cassian groaned then climbed into his bed and pulled his blankets over his head.

  “Where’s Tam?” Frans asked.

  “He’s with his father,” said a meek voice from Alex. He didn’t even look up from what he was reading. All I could see of him was his smooth, chestnut brown hair barely poking over his large book.

  “I see,” said Frans. “Well, let’s get you set up.”

  Frans took bedding from the trunks at the end of the beds, and Quentin and he made the beds. Not knowing where to stand or what to do, I sat on an empty bed. It was not that I didn’t understand how to make a bed. I just hadn’t had much practice doing it.

  In no time, the beds were made. Frans said goodnight and let us know that he and his wife were in the room across the hallway at the bottom of the stairs. If needed, we could ask them for anything.

  I sat on the bed closest to the door after Frans left.

  “I’ll be taking that one,” said Quentin, looking down at me.

  I glared at him a moment then conceded and went to the one beside his. I smacked each boot on the floor, ripped off my stockings, jamming them into my boots, and then shoved them under my bed. Apparently, I wasn’t finished being cross with Quentin. As far as I was concerned, he enjoyed pushing me to my limits.

  He also put his boots under his bed then stretched an arm behind his head as he laid back on the bed.

  Another strange bed that I didn’t find appealing, but as opposed to the bed in the inn in Wulfhli, I climbed under the blanket on the bed and ignored the rough texture of the sheets. I was grateful my mutilated ear was on the left so I could lay on my right side with my back to Quentin. Pulling the blanket to my ears, I attempted to distance myself from him as much as I could. He was gracious enough to let me have my silent tantrum.

  The purple morning light came through the large window. I pulled the wool blanket off and put my bare feet on the cool, wooden floor, and noticed that Quentin wasn’t in his bed. Nobody was. Everyone had gone. I must have been sleeping deeply to not hear anyone leave the room.

  I straightened my clothes the best I could, put on my stockings and boots, then went downstairs. Thank goodness I found a lavatory in a small room at the end of the stairs, as it felt as though I hadn’t gone in a few days.

  Down the hall, I could hear Isa Hatherine talking. Then I heard Quentin. The murmur of their voices hummed a calm conversation. The door to her office was open a crack, so I leaned against the wall to try and overhear what they were saying.

  “It’s for everyone’s safety,” Quentin said.

  “I know. The timing is…” Hatherine said.

  There was a sudden silence between them.

  “Would you like to join us, Thayne?” Quentin said, louder.

  I opened the door and stepped into the room. Alzur was back and was perched on Quentin’s shoulder.

  “I’m glad you’re awake. Please sit,” Hatherine said.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  I sat on a chair as far away from Quentin as possible.

  “Quentin, the teapot is by the hearth. Please fill it with the hot water.”

  Quentin left the room. Hatherine set some mugs on her desk, one in front of me. She grabbed a small wooden box off the shelf against the wall then put it on her desk. I could smell a carrying scent of chamomile from the box. Quentin returned, handing the teapot to Hatherine, then leaned his back against the bookshelf near her desk.

  There was a knock at the door. Hatherine answered the door and welcomed a tall, older man.

  “How’s everything going here?” I overheard him say. “Is that him?”

  Hatherine mumbled something in return. She opened her arm toward the table. “Please come in.”

  I stood as the broad man approached. Quentin re-situated himself against the stone of the fireplace and crossed his arms.

  “Thayne, this is Master Osgar Kenelm,” she said.

  I bowed. He squinted as if pondering something about me. His light blue eyes stood out against his tan skin and he bowed back.

  “Please sit,” he said.

  I slowly sunk back in my chair. The tension in the room was heavy, and it was my presence that caused it. I flattened my palms on my lap, sat erect, and, not knowing where to look, stared at the clay mug before me.

  “I understand that you are from a noble house.”

  Hatherine sat across from me and pinched a couple of healthy doses of tea leaves into the teapot that Quentin had brought in the room. Kenelm sat next to me.

  “Yes, ma’am,” I said.

  “Despite your status, no one is here to judge you if you practice the art.” She set a mug in front of Kenelm.

  “I don’t have a desire to learn beaulecraft. I need to rid my body of the goddess’s energy. That is all.” I fiddled with my fingers.

  Hatherine nodded slowly, hurt creasing in her eyes. I think I insulted her.

  “Beaulecraft is in everything. It can’t simply be removed,” she said. “Though the goddess is another matter. It’s my hope that you see and feel the beauty in beaulecraft. It will be hard to unlearn a connection with the earth and life itself.” Hatherine poured tea into the mugs. “For those of us who study the arts, we can tap into many sources. Beaulecraft mages usually only master a few different types.”

  “How many types are there?”

  In spite of myself, I was curious.

  Hatherine chuckled. “There is actually only one: spiritual energy. Upon studying the source, many have agreed that energy can be broken into six main sources: Light, dark, air, earth, fire, and water.”

  “It makes sense that the source is from the gods,” I said.

  I may not have been beaulecraft trained, but I knew that the gods controlled the elements. I never put the facts together in my head. Nobles know about ki, the energy within, and are allowed to practice using it to enhance our own energy.

  “How much do you know about beaulecraft?” asked Kenelm.

  “Not much, sir,” I said. “I just know beaulecraft is beyond our bodies.”

  “Beaulecraft is all around us. The study of external energy as opposed to the study of internal energy, as is the study of ki. The lines between ki and beaulecraft overlap,” said Kenelm. “The gods gifted us with the use of the elements to keep the natural balance. Beaulecraft is the art of using the elements.”

  “The natural balance is for you gehan to maintain,” I said. “Nobility maintains the balance of the people of Theotania. Nobles and gehan have two separate jobs to do.”

  “They do have separate jobs, but I believe that our jobs go hand in hand. We should be working closer together and not apart,” said Hatherine.

  “Isa, now is not the time to discuss this…” Quentin said.

  “Now is a perfect time, Quentin.” Though her voice was sweet, the look she gave him was sharp. She turned back to me and smiled briefly before it melted away. She leaned forward and folded her hands. “Most of us who study and practice the
art only manage to tap into one energy source,” she said. “Some can tap into two, and very few can tap into three sources. According to Quentin, you, Thayne, are one of those rare breeds who can tap into all of them at once.”

  “All of them? Is that why I have the red vapor that rises off me?”

  “No,” said Hatherine. “Beaulecraft has three energy levels of intensity, and can be seen in the way of colors. At least, that is what our eye can see. The lowest of the levels are the brown, red, and orange colors. Next, the purple, blue, and green colors. Then there are the metallic colors of silver and gold,” said Master Hatherine.

  “White is the purest form, which is usually achieved by only the highest gehan,” Kenelm added.

  “So red is a low form of beaulecraft?”

  The idea was terrifying, yet exhilarating. I could become quite powerful. I could rescue my sister and avenge Geir. Was that selfish of me to desire that kind of power? My hate toward the Mielonders grew every day, and learning beaulecraft could become an outlet in which to channel that hate, but I couldn’t go against my grandfather’s order of nobility never using the art. I felt conflicted.

  “The color itself is harmless, but the intent and energy behind the color is where the real power lies,” said Quentin. “Be careful of your intent.”

  “Housing the goddess’s energy in someone is rare and difficult to determine what she is fully capable of doing,” said Hatherine. “All we know is that she’s quite powerful and unpredictable. If you don’t learn beaulecraft, we can’t have you stay here. It will be too much of a risk for everyone.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” I said.

  “We are more than willing to take you and the extra energy into the sugian, but we need effort from you, too,” said Kenelm.

  “We’ll give you until this afternoon to make up your mind,” said Hatherine.

  There’s no need.” I leaned back in my chair. “I’ll learn beaulecraft and do my best to control the goddess’s power.”

  “Are you sure?” asked Hatherine.

  “It’s not like Quentin gave me much choice,” I said.

  “This won’t be an easy task. Especially since you’ve had no training at all,” warned Hatherine.