Disclaimer: I don't own Tamora Pierce or any of her characters. I do, however, own Jana.
If you're reading this because the e-mail alert thingy sent you this message, I know this is basically the same chapter, but I rewrote it…The old stuff was pretty sloppy. Hopefully, this will be better.
Winding Circle
I wake as the carriage hits yet another hole in the road, jarring me uncomfortably, bouncing my head off the side of the seat. I wince and grasp my head as I sit up, growling slightly under my breath. I hear the driver curse outside. Wonderful. No doubt more to come, I think, sitting up the rest of the way and gathering my scattered possessions back into my leather satchel.
Perhaps if this trip had been my idea, it wouldn't be quite as bad. It might even be fun. I've never actually traveled anywhere before-anything but this would have been great.
Unfortunately, this trip wasn't my idea. It was against my wishes, and it would have broken my mother's heart if my father hadn't broken it already-literally. Every painful bump the driver hit reminded me of that. I already had bruises form the ride, and others besides, and I didn't need the pressure those uncomfortable holes and rocks were giving me. Not to mention the never-ending swear words, curses and barely understandable singing the driver was inflicting on me.
Suddenly, we skid to a stop and my newly righted things slide across the floor yet again.
At least it's spacey, I think, sighing, If it hadn't been, I would never be able to pick all this up.
I get to my knees and gather the belongings, wondering that they're whole at all. Among them are my writing slate, some chalk, my drawing pad and charcoal, some clothes, and my small money purse. Simple, maybe, but effective, and I didn't want to crowd the cab with unnecessary things, when I knew I'd be sleeping most of the time. Thank the gods I hadn't packed it with the rest of my luggage, or perhaps I wouldn't have made it to Winding Circle alive, but as a squished remnant of the Jana that had existed before.
My things gathered, I stand as best I can and pull the curtain back to see why we've stopped, then gasp in shock.
We're here already. My time is up-I'll be confined here for the rest of my days.
Oh, part of me whispers, that's why he chose this coachman-he knew I'd try to get away again, and he couldn't take another blow to the family name…The faster the coach, the less time for me to act...We're here so early!
"Get out." The coachman says flatly, opening the door. Shaking with helplessness, I take my leather satchel and look behind to make sure I have everything. Impatient with my pace, the man grasps my arm and pulls me out forcefully. My suitcases already stand on the ground. As soon as I'm clear, he shuts the carriage door and hops back on his seat. Then, whipping the horses to a gallop, he turns a corner, and the only sign he was ever here is the dust cloud stinging my throat.
I cough into my sleeve and stand, brushing myself off with my other arm. My bags are all probably just as dusty as me, but right now I just want to get somewhere I can cry myself to sleep without anyone noticing. I turn to face the guard, who's watched the whole scene uninterestedly. Seeing me step forward, he stands up straighter and asks in a bored voice:
"What's your business at Winding Circle?"
What's my business at Winding Circle? Well, my father decided he didn't want me around anymore now that my mother's dead, and also he didn't want me exposing him as the horrible, inhuman monster that he is…Also, every time I speak, I hurt people and things, and usually wake up hours later without remembering what happened…How about you? I don't say.
What I do is hold up a finger to show him I'm going to tell him, then rummage in my bag for my slate and chalk.
I'm a new boarder. I'm sorry, but I cannot speak. Let me pass. I write. I hold the slate up for him to see, and he shakes his head.
"I wasn't informed of any new students." He says resolutely, holding his spear forward a little and shifting his stance, like a tiny slip of a girl like me could hurt him. I suppose I could strangle him with my hair, but that would require premeditation and the element of surprise, which I didn't have.
I glare at him, erase what I'd written and began to write again, when a hand rests on my shoulder.
"She's with me. Let us in, Gosdan." A cool voice says. I flinch back from the hand on my shoulder and look behind me to see a relatively tall man frowning at me. I take a step to the right and look back at the guard. I can't be sure, but I think he's blushing. Interesting.
The guard mumbles something about orders and pirates and spies, and not being too careful as I gather my bags and walk past him. The man shakes his head at me, takes my bags and walks past confidently, as though he owns the place. I snort, and a laugh escapes my lips. I clap a hand over my mouth, almost dropping my slate and chalk. The man waits until we're past the huge wooden gates, then turns and looks at me for a few long moments, measuring me.
"If you can talk, why don't you?" he asks. I sigh softly. Well, this speeds things up a bit. Usually it takes them a few weeks to get to this part. But then, I had heard Winding Circle was advanced. I take a few steps closer so I can talk as quietly as possible and still have him hear me.
"Talking leads to singing, and singing leads to chaos. Unless you're fond of chaos, don't ask me to speak." I whisper. He gives me another long, measuring look and nods slightly.
"I don't think you should live in the girls' dorms. Perhaps you'd be better off with Discipline." I feel my eyes widen.
"Don't punish me, please, I didn't mean to argue with the guard, and I'll be good!" a distant part of me recognizes that I'm yelling. Another part of me whispers, Here we go again…
I gasp and choke suddenly as the force of the music inside me slams my throat. I close my mouth suddenly, and tears prick my eyes as I refuse to move, to let the song out. I feel myself begin to fall, and everything turns black.
"-she fainted, and so I left her things back at the entrance, and carried her here." A man's voice says. Then the headache hits. It feels absolutely horrible, worse every time I've held the singing back. I cough a little, my throat feeling a little dusty. Cool hands tip my chin up and pour water down my throat. I swallow as best I can and open my eyes.
A woman with light brown hair stands in front of me. She smiles.
"Hello. How are you feeling?" I open my mouth to tell her, then realize what I'm doing. I look around the room for my satchel, and notice the man who got me into the Temple standing by the door. He nods at me calmly, then hands me my worn leather pack. I look through it slowly, my hands still trembling from fainting. I pull out a pad of paper.
Not so good I write. I show it to her and she smiles again.
"Rosethorn, our healer, gave you everything she could to help, until she was sure you would be all right. She has…other things to attend to right now, or she'd be in her with Niko and I." she points at the man. Niko. Right.
Where am I? I write, then show her again.
"This is Discipline cottage."
I really haven't done anything wrong this time, I promise. Please don't punish me. I scribble quickly, then hand her the paper. She looks at it with surprise, then back to me.
"Oh, Discipline isn't for punishment, although some of the students who live here could disagree," she said, amused, "Discipline is just for training. We work with ambient mages." I shake my head to show her I don't know what she's talking about.
"Ambient mages use magic within themselves that's expressed through normal, everyday things-not spells like academic mages use. For example, plants, or metal or weaving." I blink. Magic in plants? That didn't make sense. Before I can reply, I hear voices outside the door.
"Well, what's going on then?" a girl's voice asks.
"I don't know, I wasn't here when he brought her in. Briar?" a second voice answers coolly, with an odd accent. A Trader, maybe?
"Niko wouldn't tell me what happened, just brought her in…She looked swoony though. She's probably some weak little girl that got overwhelmed by the heat." A boys voice (Briar maybe?) answers. I glare towards the door. Overwhelmed by the heat, indeed! The woman and Niko watch the door. Clearly, they're listening too. Can't they tell him he's being rude?
"Not if Lark and Rosethorn are looking her over. If she was just some girl, Niko wouldn't have brought her here, he would have brought her to the Circle healers." The Trader's voice replies. I hear someone sigh.
"Well, should we go in and see what's going on then?" Briar shoots back after a second.
"Briar, no! Rosethorn said not to go in there while she was sleeping!" the door opens and an attractive boy with tan skin and dark hair pokes his head in.
"She isn't asleep, Sandry, so it doesn't matter." He tells someone behind him. The woman looks at them and sighs a little.
"You shouldn't come in whether or not she's sleeping. She needs quiet right now."
"I agree," Niko tells them. The door is now open completely and the three people I can only assume are students are standing there.
I was right. One of them is a Trader, and she looks a little smug.
"I told you, but you never listen," she tells the boy calmly. He shrugs at the second girl. She rolls her eyes at him.
"We just wanted to know what was going on. Daja and I came back to Briar listening at the door and we wanted to know what was going on." She flicks back a strand of her light brown hair. "It is our house, too, you know."
"I know," Niko replies, smiling slightly, "and I would have told you. But she just woke up, and it's best for her if she stays in here at least for the rest of the day."
"But then where will Lark sleep?" the brown-haired girl asks in surprise. I watch them go back and forth and sigh.
Look, I just want to go to my dormitory. If you can point me in the right direction, I'll be fine. I hand the pad of paper back to the woman, who takes it absently and looks down at it.
"Oh, but these are going to be your dormitories," she says in surprise. We stare at her. "Well, we can't send her back to the girls' dormitories any more than we could send any of you. Her magic is incredibly volatile. It's not safe for her or them out there. You know how they can react to strange things." She tells us all, hands on her hips. I look down, fighting the urge to tear up. I've always known I'm dangerous, but to hear it stated so plainly hurts nonetheless.
"She staying here?" Briar asks incredulously, "Really? Isn't there anywhere else she-"
"Was there anywhere else we could have gone, Briar?" the Trader girl asks softly. He looks at the floor.
"But, this is different," he protests weakly. I stop fighting the urge to cry and just let go. I'm still weak from fainting, I'm exhausted, and I'm tired of people talking about me as though I'm not here.
I look up and the woman and Niko are looking at me. The Trader girl is smiling a little, the other girl looks at me approvingly, and Briar is glaring at the floor. My cheeks burn a little bit. Great, now they'll really hate me…
"Rosethorn left me a sleeping draught in case you needed to sleep more. Would you like some?" I nod. I can sleep, and maybe when I wake up it won't be so bad.
"All right." She picks up a cup on the little table next to the bed. Strange, I hadn't noticed it before. She hands me the cup and I take a sip. Nothing happens. I look at the woman.
"Don't worry, it takes a minute to start working." As she says this, I feel myself begin to relax. I smile a little and slide down the bed so my head rests on the pillow. She takes the cup from me.
"Before you go to sleep, my name is Lark," she says, smiling. The room is getting fuzzy around the edges. I smile again and try to nod, then close my eyes…
A/N:
As you may have noticed, I deleted the other chapters. Sorry if you guys liked it, but, well, Jana was a Mary Sue. This didn't bother me before, but it really, really does now. In fact, most of my characters are MS's. I'm going to change this in the future, but I decided to start with this story. Review and tell me what you think-I want to know if I write it better this time around.