Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Fourteen
There are burgundy flags with NR embroidered on them in white hanging from every surface possible of the training grounds. Seating has been set up for our group as well as parents of the children around one side of the sand. The children are lined up in military precision, the littlest ones have their palms flat to their sides, their noses in the air as they try and stand as straight as possible, mimicking the older children. They can't be more than five or so. The older children seem more relaxed in their stance. I spy Luther among them, his eyes widening slightly as he sees me, his grin spreading. I wink at him as I take my seat. His ability will not be on display today. I make a mental note to ask Cal about him later. I turn in my seat looking for Luther's father.
I spot him easily enough as he enters the training grounds from the back of the room, an old worn scarf twisted in his hands. I stand to greet him, waving him over to me. "Hello, Mr. Carver." I greet once he is near enough to hear me. The room is bustling with dignitaries and parents.
He catches me off guard by wrapping his arms around my shoulders. "Miss Barrow." He breathes into the top of my head.
"I'm glad you're here," I say genuinely as I pull back. I don't know what happened to him after we left with Luther and I never asked. Another failure on my part that I am working to remedy.
"I could say the same to you." Mr. Carver smiles as his hands drop from my shoulders. "I should get to my seat," He looks around nervously at my company behind me.
"Nonsense," I hear Carmadon pipe up from a few seats behind me. "Please sit up with us sir."
It is clear by Mr. Carvers down cast eyes that he is still not used to being addressed by silvers.
"You can sit here next to me." I say gesturing to the empty seat to my left.
"Thank you Miss Barrow." He says as he starts to take a seat.
"Please, call me Mare." I say sitting next to him.
He pats my hand with a watery smile, "Mare." He nods repeating my name.
"Did you see Luther?" I ask pointing out to the sand. Mr. Carver's son is standing tall and proud.
"I did." Mr. Carver says waving a bit at Luther. "He loves it here."
"Good, I'm glad he's doing so well."
Mr. Carver turns to me meeting my gaze, "It's all because of you. You saved his life."
I cover his hand with mine. "No," I whisper, "That was Julian Jacos. He gave me the purpose."
Mr. Carver nods letting the conversation end there thankfully.
Cal's voice pulls my gaze out to the sand again. He's in a black training uniform, it looks like one of the uniforms we found in the jet so long ago. The one where he ripped the burning crown from the shoulder. Its form fitting to say the least, the definition in his arms and back clearly visible in the contours of the fabric. His eyes meet mine and I feel my face burn bright scarlet. I look away first.
"Thank you all for coming. The students are extremely excited," He smiles looking down to the littlest ones who are twitching and moving in their spots. They are radiating excitement, their little stern faces trying valiantly not to smile. I've never been a fan of children, but I can't help myself they are too cute for me not to smile with them. Cal continues, "And extremely happy you are all here. As am I. For the next half hour we will be showing you a little of our skills and our progress."
The students have an array of abilities, from telkies to nymphs, from greenwardens, teleporters and swifts, to even some of the more rare abilities like a newblood burner I've never seen before. Cal waves him to the front and stands behind him, his large hands on the boys' shoulders. The boy's mop of sandy brown hair is almost too long and he whips his head to get the hair out of his eyes. "This is Mattie. He is twelve years old from Harbor Bay and he is the only newblood burner that we have found. For someone who shares his ability, I have taken great joy in teaching him what I know. He will be our first demonstration today." Mattie is large for a twelve year old, his broad shoulders almost as wide as Cal's and the top of his head nearly to Cal's chin. For as tall as Mattie is, I can tell he still has some growing left.
Cal waves him on and the boy nods a few times, agreeing with whatever Cal whispers in his ear.
The boy puts his hands out, palms up, and a bead of sweat forms on his brow. Not from heat, I've seen this enough with Cal to know its concentration. His hands burst into flames, a bit too quickly and he settles them with a bit more furrowing of his brow, until just a candle flame is visible in his hand.
There is clapping right away from a small woman who stands in the back of the room. I'm guessing this is Mattie's proud mother because a blush blooms across his cheeks.
Cal comes back to the boys' side, clapping a proud hand on his shoulder. "This has been only a few weeks' worth of training. Mattie's mother brought him to us after an accident at their home burnt everything but her son. This story is not unlike most of our newblood students." There are more presentations, a telkie girl juggling looking slightly bored, a little nymph whose wave got a bit too close to the crowd, Davidson holding up a quick shield to save us from getting damp. All I could watch was Cal, his easy smile with the children. Speaking to them all as they completed their demonstration, congratulating them and I'm sure telling them how to do better next time. The poor nymph girl was almost in tears and I watched as he knelt down in front of her as another student to their turn. I couldn't see what he was saying, let alone hear him, but the little girl wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and smiled at him. He reached out and ruffled her hair before standing again, turning back to his charges.
This is where Cal belongs. He looks happier than I've ever seen him.
No, not ever. I've seen him this way, in this palace, with Maven. It's suddenly a bit harder to breath, air coming in shallow and hard and I can't seem to get a grip on it. Ice blue eyes sear into my soul, I feel the brand on my collarbone burn as if it's on fire. My heart hammering against my rib cage, I can feel the whine of the lights above me behind my eyes. And I can't breathe.
"Mis-Mare?" Mr. Carver stutters drawing my attention down to my hands. They are vibrating with purple sparks.
I quickly try to brush my hands against my pant leg but I'm just singing holes in the material. I can't be here, all I do is destroy.
"Mare?" Farley questions from the right side of me. Her voice is far away and I can't concentrate on it.
Panic surges through me. I can't stop it, it won't stop, I can't breathe. The lights blink as I rise from my seat and rush for the door. There are too many people staring at me. The great lightening girl can't even control herself, what a sham, I sneer at myself as I push into the hallway. I put my hands on my knees bracing myself, I take deep gulps of air, but I feel as if my throat is closing, the heavy blanket of silence covering me. I look down at my hands, sparks still there, no stone.
Control.
I can't. I can't.
Control.
I can't! It won't stop!
Control.
I can't breathe.
"Mare, control." The last voice is not my own and the sound vibrates through my chest. Cal's fire hot hands are on my cheeks forcing me to look at him, I can see people staring from the training room as the door swings closed behind him. "It's just me." He says softly, "It's okay, it's just me."
"I-I can't stop it," I manage to say in between heavy breaths, my heart slamming against my rib cage, "I can't stop it." Tears well up in my eyes and I can feel them race down my cheeks. I let them fall.
He turns me so that his chest is against my back, his arm over my collarbone, bracing me against him. "Can you feel me breathe?" He asks taking a deep breath. I nod, my breath still shallow and quick, "Breathe with me."
I concentrate on his breaths, feeling his chest rise and fall against my back and I try to match it. He takes deep even breaths and I try to do the same through my hiccups, I try to think of nothing but him.
Once the sparks recede and my breathing evens out, he releases his hold on my collarbone and moves his hands to my shoulders. I can feel his chin resting on the top of my head, his fingers hot through the fabric of my shirt. "Are you okay?"
I nod, "I just… I remembered…" With my breathing and sparks under control I feel increasingly stupid, I turn to face him, his hands dropping to his sides. He's entirely too close.
"I get it." He says running a hand through his hair, "This place has a lot of memories." He says looking over my head down the hall, I'm sure seeing a memory from long ago.
"You should get back inside." I say, more embarrassed than anything that he followed me out here. "I'm okay."
He looks back down at me, worry knitting at his features. "You shouldn't be alone."
"You have other things going on," I gesture to the door behind him. "I'll be fine," I croak, the words foreign. I clear my throat, "I'll be fine." I repeat, more for myself than him. I will be fine.
"Still, you shouldn't be alone."
"She's not alone." Again Evangeline Samos has saved me. "I'll babysit Barrow," She says inspecting her nails as she leans against the wall next to the door.
Again she isn't donning any metal that I can see. She wears a tight black skirt that ends at her knees, and a plain white shirt. I don't think I've ever seen her in such a simple outfit before.
Cal looks from Evangeline and back down to me. "Are you sure?" He asks suspiciously.
"Yeah, I'll be fine. Go," I give him a light shove on the arm toward the door. "I'll be at the next whatever thing they have me scheduled for."
He smirks only slightly, I can still see the worry in his eyes, but he agrees all the same. "Okay, but if the lights flicker I'm getting you a new babysitter." He says as he opens the door and re-enters the training arena.
Evangeline crosses her arms as she leans into the wall, one of her feet resting flatly against it. "What do you need?" She asks softly.
I look around the marble hallway. It's cold and large and completely claustrophobic. "Air. I need to go outside."
Evangeline nods, pushing herself off the wall. "Let's go outside then."
She takes me down winding halls I'm not sure I've ever seen before. With the redecorating it's hard for me to tell which hall is which or where they lead. At the end of the hall there is an unassuming door. It is just plain oak, nothing as ornate as the rest of the palace. She pushes the door open and sunlight pools in, the rush of cold October air surrounds me and I inhale greedily.
It's a courtyard with a maze of shrubs all leading to a small white gazebo with a cathedral top. There are flowers of white and red bloom woven into the shrubs. Evangeline clasps her hands behind her back and leads me down a path of weather beaten stones to the gazebo. A bench is suspended from the ceiling of the gazebo with chains. She takes a seat on the bench and pats the spot next to her gesturing for me to sit. Once I do, she kicks her legs in and out and the bench begins to sway.
"Is it weird being back here?" She asks, her fingers wrapped around the edge of the seat, her eyes watching her legs swing in and out.
"Yes." I answer, not elaborating. Weird is an understatement and she knows it.
She turns her gaze out to the garden among the maze. "I've always liked this courtyard best." She says changing the subject.
"It's nice," I say, I've seen better, I think.
"It's not the grandest, it's not the biggest or the prettiest. But it has this swing." She says rubbing at the worn wood on the bench beneath us. "I really like this swing."
The shrubs are all overgrown, tall grass has sprouted in between them. The paint is chipping from the gazebo, the wood of the bench weather worn and rough, the chain holding it up is iron and rusted. No one has cared about this gazebo for a long time. Except Evangeline. For all its flaws and deterioration, she still loves it as if it were shiny and new. With her ability she could shake the rust off the chains with little more than a blink. But she doesn't. She likes it just the way it is.
"I'm surprised it survived the battle." I say recalling the flood and the bombs that ravaged this city. How did this little structure made of little more than kindling make it out still intact?
"Oh it got some burns and scrapes but it survived." She responds absently, "It's still standing."
Just like me. I will be fine. I will get through it.
We sit in the courtyard, gently swaying back and forth until Farley comes and gets us. "They are getting ready to start the next presentation." Farley says from the open doorway. "Are you ready?"
I nod solemnly. "Ready as I'll ever be."
Farley leads us through the palace to a large room that has been repurposed into a lecture hall. Arena style seating with cushy arm chairs rings a chalkboard mounted to the wall. This was nothing like one of the classrooms in the Stilts, nor were our arena seats this comfortable.
Julian stands patiently near the chalkboard as we all file into the room. This is a much smaller group than the first presentation. There are no parents here and there's only about ten of us in the room. "Thank you all for joining me." He says as most of us have taken our seats. "I just wanted to go over quickly what we plan on teaching the children. For the Nortan Silvers in the room, this may look familiar to you, for our reds in attendance this will be, hopefully, new to you."
Julian goes on with his speech, going over what is taught for different age groups. Depending on the school level and knowledge level of the children they may be put into different groups for certain subjects.
I start zoning out, staring at the corner of the chalkboard until someone says my name. Farley elbows me in the ribs to get my attention. "Pay attention." She says through gritted teeth.
I roll my eyes, readjusting in my seat, trying to concentrate on the words Julian is saying.
"As for history, most of you in this room will have your name in a history book. Some of you we will not have to name, but there are others that will not be so lucky." He looks at me pointedly in the crowd. "Unfortunately, Mare, this line of history starts with you."
I cross my arms over my chest. I do not want to be in anyone's history book.
"As the first widely known case of a newblood in Norta, you could not be spared." He says almost apologetically.
You are simply the first that they could not hide. I hear his voice in my memory from what feels like years ago.
Julian looks over my head, "You too, Cal."
I turn in my seat to see Cal leaning on the wall by the door. His arms are crossed and his eyes are on me as he nods.
Julian continues down his list of who will have to be named in the book. To my chagrin, Farley is spared.
"And that is really all that I had." Julian concludes, "If you would like to shadow one of the classes please let me know and we can have that arranged. Otherwise if you would follow Kilorn, he will take you on the tour of the dormitories."
Kilorn opens the door at the back of the classroom and ushers people to follow him. I wait until everyone is standing and heading to the door before I rise out of my seat. I turn toward the door and see that Cal has not moved. He watches me as I take the stairs slowly and stop in front of him.
"Should I be going on this tour?" I ask without any preamble. He knows what I mean. Am I going to need to leave the tour? Will it be too much?
He watches me for a moment and then uncrosses his arms, pushing off from the wall. "Probably not, but I'll walk with you."
I nod and he gestures for me to enter the hallway first. The rest of the tour is already halfway down the hall when we start to follow them. I can barely hear Kilorn.
Cal and I walk in silence as Kilorn points out different rooms of interest along the way. I'm not listening. If I have anything to do about it, it'll be the last time I'm here. The last time I will ever walk these halls, but there are a few things I need to see first. I don't want to, but for some reason I need to see them.
"Cal?" I say breaking our silence, "Can you take me to…" I trail off. My cage? The room? I don't even know what to call it. "The room." I finish, the words heavy and weighted.
He looks down at the floor. "Are you sure?"
"I need to see that and…" I trail off again. It has never been this hard to talk to him. "I need to see the tomb."
At that he looks at me, bewilderment and anger in his eyes. "Why?"
"I can find it on my own." I challenge, if he won't help me, I'll just have to help myself.
"No," He says quickly, "I'll take you."
He turns down a hall, separating us from the rest of the group. His shoulders are tense and he stomps down a path.
It's not long before I start recognizing hallways. Everything on this side of the palace looks untouched.
Cal notices my eyes lingering on painting and sculptures as we walk. "They didn't change anything in this wing. Thought it would be a good learning experience for the children." He almost spits out the words.
"I take it, you don't agree."
He stops walking and runs a hand through his hair. "Yes and no." He says turning to look at me. He sighs and continues, "I get showing them what he did, what he did to you, how he…" He trails off not able to finish the thought. I understand. "I just hate it. I hate that room, I hate the tomb." He sighs again letting his shoulders slump. "I hate a lot of things about this place."
"I didn't want to come here today." I say.
"I know." He smiles at me, "Kilorn told me."
I sigh putting my hand on my hip, "Are you two like best friends now or what?"
He chuckles at that, "Something like that. I see him a lot more often than anyone else." He looks down at his feet as he starts walking again. "I like Kilorn."
"Finally," I say throwing my hands up following him. "Took you guys long enough."
"Yeah, well we have more things in common than we thought." He looks over his shoulder at me and I can feel my cheeks bloom red.
"I'm sorry." I say stopping where I am.
Cal turns to watch me from four feet away. "For what?"
"The other day." I say, it's my turn to look down at the floor. "I was… out of line."
He smiles, shoving his hands into the pockets of his pants. He doesn't say anything.
"I shouldn't have said those things." I shouldn't have thrown a glass at you either, but I don't say that out loud. It's not like I hit him or anything.
"I think," He says slowly looking up at the ceiling for a moment and then back at me, "I probably would have reacted the same, if the situations were reversed."
"I don't like her."
He laughs outwardly, a true genuine laugh that I haven't heard in I don't know how long. It warms me just as much as his heat. I feel a smile tugging on my own lips. "Oh I know," The corners of his eyes wrinkle as he smiles down at me. "I heard about this morning."
I wince remembering the threat. It wasn't a lie, but I shouldn't let her get to me that way. "I also probably shouldn't have said that either." I grumble.
"Eh, I think it's kind of sweet." He chuckles as he begins walking again. "You trying to protect me from the big bad Natasa."
I jog to catch up with him. "I think you've hit your head, your highness." I shove at him a bit.
He shakes his head smiling, but he doesn't take the barb. He slows as we reach a door, a door I recognize, and I stop where I am, the smile fading from my lips.
I can see his own smile turn to a grimace as he stares at the door with me.
I move first, reaching for the doorknob, holding the cool metal in my hand before I push the door open. I take a deep breath and it occurs to me, this is the first time I have opened this door myself. I push the door open, letting it swing on its hinges.
It's musty in here, the air clinging to whatever moisture it can find.
Cal and I both stand in the doorway unmoving.
"I haven't been in here since they took the stones out." Cal whispers to me. There's no one here to hear him and no reason for him to whisper, but something about this room calls for silence, even when all the silence is gone.
I take a step inside the room. "Kilorn told me." I say taking another tentative step. It's just as I left it. I run a hand over the books in the bookshelf, my fingers coming away gray with dust. It's a strange feeling being in this room and knowing I am free to leave whenever I want. I am not trapped her, I am no longer a prisoner. I am free, and yet I still feel tied to this room, this cage.
I move to the bed and smile over my shoulder at Cal, "Did you look under the bed?"
His brow furrows in confusion as he takes a step into the room. "There was nothing under there."
I shake my head lift the mattress with one hand to show him. Broken glass and forks shine in the light coming from the window. "Oh, yes there is." I say.
Cal comes to my side looking down at the trinkets and stolen silverware that I had collected during my captivity. Cal's hand slips into mine, and he smiles. "He never could break you."
I drop the mattress taking my hand from Cal's. "Not in all ways. But some, yes."
Cal watches me as I make a perimeter around the room. "You're still here."
I nod, "Not all the time," I say looking back at him pointedly, "Like this morning."
"Does that happen often?" He asks, concern clearly written all over his face.
I don't answer. It happens at least once a week. I just shrug in way of an answer.
"Maybe someone can help? Make you forget?" He sits on the bed, his elbows on his knees.
"I don't want to forget." I turn toward him and lean against the empty desk across from the bed. "I shouldn't forget."
He nods, "But maybe there's someone that can help."
"It's not something that can be fixed, Cal." I want to stomp my foot in frustration. "I can't be fixed."
"That's not true." He says meeting my gaze with equal frustration. "You are not broken."
I shake my head, I can feel tears welling up in my eyes but I refuse to let them fall. "I am."
He crosses the room faster than I've seen him, two long, quick strides and he has my face in his hands, forcing me to look at him, his fingers burning hot. "You. Are. Not. Broken." He repeats, enunciating every word.
I close my eyes and the tears I was fighting a losing battle with fall. He wipes them away gently with his thumbs. I open my eyes to meet his gaze, his bronze orbs of fire searing into my river brown eyes. "I feel like it."
"It just takes time." He whispers, leaving a kiss on my forehead that lingers a bit too long and not long enough. "I promise."
I nod, "Will you take me to him?" I ask knowing he will know who I mean.
"I will." He says and his hands leave my face. Somehow I forgot how cold the world is without his warmth. I tell myself it's the cold that makes me shiver.
The tomb is a large circular room beneath the palace, farther down than the cells Cal and I were once kept in.
The room is gray, bleached of any color or warmth. Like Kilorn said, Cal doesn't come into the room with me and stands in the doorway. I can't feel the stones beneath my feet and I know Cal doesn't either. It's something else stopping him. I understand the feeling.
Part of the tomb is raised, even though I know he is several feet underneath me, it still gives me pause.
There is no inscription on the tomb other than his name. Maven Calore. No titles, no medals. Just a name. Even I know there is much in a name and this name haunts me every day.
"I know we couldn't have saved him." Cal says behind me. "I know that now."
"I still wonder sometimes." I whisper back to him.
Cal doesn't say anything to that. I'm sure he does too.
I know he does too.
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