And here is the chappie, as promised! Thanks to my beta, KyrieofAccender, for returning it so quickly! And skyflyte12, SarahE7191, Heiress of Lohaust, and Eternityfalls-
You guys are AWESOME!!! Keep it up!!! ;D
Chapter 12
Fights and Flying Forks
"Your mother was a hag, and your da fathered Scanran bastards all up and down the coast!" Evrain bellowed, trying to sound fearsome. Sweat dripping from her brow, Deryne grinned widely, striving to hold back giggles. If she started laughing, she would drop her practice sword, and Ev would win the bout. She had already decided that she would win, this time. She could see Cadel and Aloin seated on the fence. Both of them were shouting insults at both Evrain and her, but she could not hear them over Evrain's loud comments.
"Is that the best you can come up with?" she needled. "Because I think lots of brothers and sisters would be great! They could help me beat you up in a dark alley. Not that I'd need their help!" A wicked smile played across her face as Ev glared. He lunged, and Deryne knocked his swing aside. But before she could follow with an attack, Evrain pulled back. A savage smile played across her face; he was getting tired. Now all she had to do was wait; last time she had ended up on her back with Evrain's sword at her throat because she had gotten too excited. She watched patiently as he flourished his sword.
Wait… wait- She gathered her strength; it would have to be fast and hard- and if she moved the wrong way, Evrain would hit her and she would lose.
"Come off it, Queen!" he groaned. "How many times have you won against me?" Without waiting, he continued, "None! And that's not the talk of a loser!"
"No," Deryne agreed cheerily. "It's not." With those words on her lips, she shot forwards, blade flashing.
Evrain's eyes flashed as he realized she was attacking; his sword whipped up to knock hers away, but Deryne smacked it down, pinning it to the ground. She bore her weight down, trying to force Evrain to let go. They had agreed no punches or throws-
Her vision flashed before her; she saw herself in a dark corridor, her eyes closed-
And that was when she felt the fist whip through the air-
"You cheating git!" she snapped, throwing her arm up in time to check the blow. Then- without a thought- she slammed her fist into his stomach. She heard him gasp, then kicked his blade out of his hand.
When she looked at him, he was seated on the ground, holding his stomach and looking up at her contritely.
"Very sorry," he muttered. The look on his face was enough to make her grin.
"No, you aren't," she said, chuckling as she shook her head.
"No, I am," Evrain assured her as she offered him her hand and tugged. "Although only because you saw fit to teach me a lesson." He stood, grinning sheepishly.
"Hmm. That's probably true-" She froze, remembering the blow. "Gods…." Evrain frowned as he stood.
"What?" She fell silent, remembering how she had seen his attack-
She had seen it in her mind-
A wide grin spread across her face, and she whooped in glee.
Perhaps this Gift was easier to train than she had thought.
Nonsense. It will be a great deal harder than that. Duskwing glowered at her, the telltale glow that told Deryne that the Chamber was in her kestrel lighting up the room. She groaned, plopping down on her bed.
"But- didn't you hear me? I felt it-"
But you weren't trying to. Duskwing flapped his wings. Just because your Gift is developed enough to tell you when someone's cheating in a mock duel doesn't mean you can make it obey you when your head is about to be cut off by a Stormwing.
Deryne made a face.
"Trying to make me feel bad? You're doing a damn good job of it."
I am not here to boost your overconfidence. The bird pecked at the tether that kept him on his perch. Get this off of me. Deryne obeyed, removing the leather warily; sometimes, if she wasn't fast enough, the Chamber would try to bite her. The moment she had, Duskwing launched into the air. Deryne dived to the ground to avoid being buffeted by his wings.
I am here to keep you on your guard.
"Was Irani wrong?" Deryne demanded for the thousandth time. Whenever the Chamber brought up his reasons for encroaching on Duskwing's mind, Deryne strived to trick him into telling her why. "Is the prophecy wrong? Was I lucky? Have I evaded fate? Or are the gods waiting for the next round to get me killed?"
How should I know what those gamesters play at? the Chamber asked as the kestrel perched in the rafters.
"You play more games than they do," she muttered, glaring right back up at the bird. The Chamber snorted.
Believe me, human. When the gods begin a serious game- when they start playing for things that matter- you will be knocked flat by the deceit and craftiness involved. All equivocation, empty promises, and sacrifices. Usually human ones. The keen eyes watched her carefully. Meanwhile, I am left with the job of keeping the number of human causalities as far down as I can.
"What kind of answer is that?" Deryne demanded, half amused, half annoyed.
The truest one you'll ever get, Queenscove. Duskwing floated down from the ceiling, wings spread. Now, to your exercises. If you want to keep beating the loud boy, you need to stay as strong as the boys.
"I can't believe you let me come!" Deryne exclaimed, bouncing up and down excitedly. "One person, and you chose me!" Mequen grinned at her.
"I figured that out of all the pages, Cyne would be gladdest to see you." The two of them stood behind Sir Myles. In front of them stood the royal family; King Roald and his heir, Leoraed- who was almost old enough to be a page- waited, protected by wary guards with huge shields, spears and longbows. They had been waiting for the better part of an hour for the ship the Dovewing to enter the harbor; due to the wind, the Copper Isles delegation had been standing out on the ship's deck for awhile, waiting for the crew to steer the boat to the dock. Deryne smirked.
"But of course. She hasn't come here to see any old boy. She came to see a female page. A sensible type of being." Mequen snorted, brushing his dark hair out of his eyes as he stood on tiptoe.
"Of course this will take awhile," he muttered, more to himself than to Deryne. "After all, even after the ship goes in they have to greet the king and the prince and-" Deryne elbowed him.
"Relax. You'll see her soon enough, and then you'll be sick of having your sister tagging along within days." Mequen laughed.
"Never."
By the time that the ship had reached the dock and the mooring ropes had been tied, Deyrne had pinpointed a trio about her age. She could not mistake the granddaughter of the Lioness for anyone else; she had the legendary, brilliant red hair. She also had the legendary scowl of the bad-tempered lady knight; she had been arguing with the boy next to her from the time that Deryne could first pick out their figures. On her other side, a smaller girl with dark hair like Mequen's stared into the water, twirling her fingers as she gazed into the harbor's murky depths. Deryne followed her eyes; an unnatural, tiny whirlpool danced across the water. Curious, she sent out small whispers of her Gift; the breezes wandered towards the girl and the moving water-
Deryne started as her Gift weaved through the air between Cyne Hetnim and the place on the water that she was looking at. Something was there.
She sensed power, a fierce, deadly strength that could whip out of control at any moment-
It reminded her of the sensations that filled her whenever she gave herself up to her Gift. It reminded her of her Gift.
The power- somehow more solid and yet as fluid as her own- tangled with hers, seeping through it and exploring it- and her-
Deryne's eyes snapped up to the girl; Cyne stared back with unwavering, stunned blue eyes as brilliant as the sea.
The page shivered.
"Meq," she whispered hoarsely, unable to break the undeniable, potent connection between her and Mequen's younger sister.
"What?" She could hear the frown in his voice. She reached out and gripped his arm.
"You didn't tell me she had the Gift."
"Brand, you're an idiot. No one cares if you can balance a fork on your palm." Aloin watched with wide eyes as the red-haired girl smacked the utensil from her good-looking friend Brand, who yelped as it went flying out of his hand and across the table, somehow managing to land in Evrain's mug. The contents of the cup splattered across the table, forcing half the table to leap to their feet, reaching for napkins, things that were rarely found in the pages' dining hall.
As Deryne smiled, her eyes found Cyne Hetnim, sister of Mequen and best friends with the two newest palace troublemakers. Busy fighting a smile that threatened to cross her face, the dark-haired girl kept her eyes fixed on her plate from her place across the table.
"Merle!" Brand squawked, his ears darkening. "I had it that time!" The red head snorted, tossing her curls.
"You said that the last ten times," she reminded him, rolling her hazel eyes and picking up her own fork to stab a piece of meat.
The Kyprian delegation had arrived a few days before, and Brand Sibigat and Merle Crow were already at home among the pages. Few of the boys had gone home to their fiefs for the summer; the foreigners had aroused far too much curiosity. But Cyne Hetnim was far more intriguing to Deryne, even if she was quieter than her companions, who had arrived on the Corus docks bickering and insulting each other.
Cyne looked back at Deryne and smiled back, green-blue eyes gleaming.
Something about her reminded Deryne of herself. It was the oddest thing; Cyne was very quiet in the large group of pages who had adopted the trio, certainly nothing like her…. And yet she felt- every single time she caught the other girl's gaze- like they were on the same page, thinking the same thing. She only felt that way when she was with Rikash or Cadel- and they had been her friends since they were infants.
It had to be that strange connection Deryne had felt when she had probed the other girl's Gift. Since then, she had been careful about using it when Cyne was around, and she not noticed any telltale signs that the Copper Islander had used her Gift again, either.
And then there was her eyes. Cyne's eyes were eerily colored, and when Deryne was next to her, the pigments seemed to glow and shift in her irises.
"Yeah, kinda like yours," Cadel had teased his cousin when she had mentioned it to him. It was probably true; she had no business talking about other pairs of eyes when hers were so weird.
"My apologies," the Kyprian said to Deryne in a low voice. "My friends never learned their manners." Deryne's lips twitched.
"Neither did this lot," she said dryly, elbowing Aloin, who sat in her right. He shot her a glare. "Look at this. No respect for the ladies."
"You ain't no lady," Aloin retorted darkly, provoking a laugh from the table as he massaged his side. "No lady elbows a lad like that." Deryne rolled her eyes.
"Yeah. And no knight ever whined about a tap in the ribs." There was another burst of laughter and catcalls, and Evrain leapt on Aloin, knocking him off his chair to wrestle him to the ground.
Laughter echoed through the halls outside the mess; leaning up against one wall, a handsome young man sat on the floor, playing on a worn, old chess set, his opponent invisible. His hand lingered on a white bishop for a moment, his brow furrowed in thought. Then, gingerly, he lifted it and moved it across the board. Lounging beside him, a golden-skinned woman played with her dark locks of hair, her firey eyes bored.
"I'm tired of waiting," she drawled in a soft whine, looking up at her companion. "She plays with you, and I don't like it-" Frowning, the man held up a hand to silence her as one of the black pieces rose into the air of its own accord. A pawn.
His frown deepened as the black piece moved into position against the bishop. On the attack.
"That… is not good," he said in his low, husky voice. "Not good at all…."
"Deryne!" Roused from her thoughts, the girl looked at Numair Salmalin, who was scowling.
"You weren't meditating," he accused her. She sat straighter with indignance.
"I beg your pardon, sir? How could you possibly think that?" Numair snorted.
"It might have something to do with my calling your name and you not responding. If you were immersed in your Gift, you would have heard the slightest breath, let alone a normal voice." Deryne's innocent façade fell.
"Oh." She should have known he would say something like that. She shot a glare at Rikash, who- though his eyes were still closed- was smiling faintly. "Hey! He isn't paying attention to his 'center of being' either! Look at him!"
"It is a little hard to focus with you squawking," Rikash mumbled, his grin more prominent now. "What's up? Mediation never bothers you-"
"Yeah, except-" Deryne cut herself off. Numair's eyebrows rose.
"Except?" he prompted, voice mild.
Except for Cyne Hetnim, who unnerved Deryne more than any girl her age should. They were already good friends- Deryne had even suggested sneaking out one night to the library for certain, unabridged texts of some of the crueler rulers of the Copper Isles- Cyne wanted to learn more about the histories, and Deryne loved the idea of possible risk and excitement involved. Cyne had wanted to go tonight, but the page had had Gifted lessons.
"That's right," Cyne had said carelessly, her eyes wary. "You have the Gift." There had been an awkward pause for a moment, but then the Kyprian had plunged on. "I felt it, when we arrived." Deryne sized her up carefully; curiosity and a morbid sense of dread fought within her mind. Curiousity won, as per usual.
"You can sense Gifts?" Cyne had frowned at this, her eyes narrowing.
"No," she replied after a moment. "I don't."
"Deryne!" Startled, she glanced up at an exasperated Numair. His son's eyes glittered with amusement, their iridescent hues of amber and gold most obvious when he engaged in spells.
"Sorry," she muttered. "It's just- Meq's sister, from the Copper Isles-"
"Cyne Hetnim…." The mage looked puzzled. Deryne pursed her lips, unsure of how to phrase her next few words.
"Her Gift… is strange. It bothers me," she finally admitted. "It's very-" She struggled for a word. "-raw," she finished lamely. "Powerful." She cleared her throat. "Sort of… like mine.
Cyne wandered through the dark library, her heart thumping loudly. She had nearly shrieked when she saw a shadow move out of the corner of her eye; it was her own fault, her own candle, that had caused the movement.
Perhaps she should have waited until morning- sneaking out at night was stupid when she could do it just as well alone-
She was not the type to walk about in a deserted, silent room full of dust and books and plenty of potential hiding places at night. But Deryne had been so excited- the excitement had rubbed off on her, and look where it had lead her!
No, if she were to come in here again at this time, it would be because that page dragged her in.
Mind resolved, she turned away from the archives she had been headed towards, and walked back towards the exit. Shadows moved around her, but she kept walking, scolding herself for acting like a ninny-
That was when someone grabbed her, and she screamed, loud and clear.
AN: Uh-oh! What's happened this time?Sadly, you shall have to wait and find out.
O