There’ll be time. I hope.
“What now?” I ask.
“Now? What do you want?” His eyes dip to my lips—fast—but not fast enough that I don’t notice. “I can take you back toyour room. We can stay here, or I can teach you the names of the stars.” He turns his head to look up at the sky. I do the same, watching the dots of light blink in the inky darkness. My eyes sparkle with the hundreds of thousands of twinkling stars, and the enormity of everything I’ve learned strikes me. The idea of magic existing, that there’s a Goddess. It cloaks me in wonder, and suddenly I’m nothing more than a single one of those dots. A lone light.
Tiny, against the new world I’m in.
But the stars are so beautiful.
“My personal tutor?” I turn to Ten.
“Maybe. You don’t know if I’m any good, though.” The warmth from his eyes spreads to his voice. He’s teasing, and I appreciate the relief as it pulls me back from the black void I was facing.
I look him over in his smart shirt and his neat hair that’s started to fight against the style he’s worn it in, desperate to fall back into its usual place, I guess.
His father is the head of his Order—he’s harsh. Controlling. Power hungry. I don’t think he’d allow Ten to grow up and not be excellent at everything he does. However, I keep that assessment to myself.
“Oh, I doubt you’d be anything but a model student,” I tease back. “Tell me about the Transference. What happens? What was yours like?”
He sits bolt upright, breaking the moment between us and, if possible, puts a few extra inches of distance between us, physically pulling away from me like I just said something terrible. And just like earlier, disappointment squeezes my chest.
I wait. I wait for… something, because I’m not sure what was wrong with what I asked. My chest rises and falls, the pace of my heart slowing as the disappointment drags.
“The Transference is a ceremony where you’re presented by a member of your family, or another significant person, to Aslendrix,” Ten states, and then stands, dusts the sand from his trousers and takes a further step away from me. “Advocates gift their magic power as an offering back to Aslendrix in exchange for your power from her.” His answer is robotic, like he’s reading from one of the books Micah told me about in the library. “You’ll have time to learn what happens in class.” He shoves his hands into his pockets and turns away.
What just happened?
Gone is the teasing warmth and fun we were skating towards. And before me is the brooding boy, shutting everything down again.
“Stars, yes. Transference, no. Got it.” I sit up and stand, annoyed that I have a million questions to ask and no way of knowing what might trip me up. It’s clear he doesn’t want to discuss the Transference. Why couldn’t he just say that? Hastily, I tug at the knot of my shirt and undo it to pull the sides tightly around me, shielding against the chill he’s given me.
“It’s… a difficult subject. It’s personal. Everyone’s is different.”
So, no details, nothing that might help me prepare. “Fine. Thanks for enlightening me.” I walk off, back towards The Court. “I can find my own way. Perhaps the easiest thing I’ve learned since being here.” I don’t want to guess at more small talk obstacles.
“I’m sure you can.”
“Then you don’t need to worry about escorting me home. You’re already where you need to be. I’ll see you tomorrow if I’m part of the schedule.” The words are timid as I navigate back to some level of comfort and try to melt the frosty response he’s given me, and I need to do it before I finally burst and lose thefine strand of control I still have. After everything, now would be a great time to be back in my room. Alone.
Each footstep away feels cooler, like Aten is the very source of heat keeping me warm, or maybe the air around us suddenly caught on to the fact that the sky is dark and the moon is out.
I pick up my pace, my soft slippers now feeling stupidly inadequate for trekking back towards the city. Every stone or pebble in the dirt digs into my sole as if there is nothing on my feet at all.
But as I head towards the bridge and pass the guards, Ten’s still following me.
“Aten, I don’t?—”
“Ten. We’re friends. I told you to call me Ten.” His voice has an angry edge, and it contradicts his words.
“Well—” I keep walking. “As a friend, maybe you could explain what just happened? I thought you said you’d help me. All I did was ask a question. If you didn’t want to talk about it, then you should have said so.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Great, was that so hard?” I shout over my shoulder, my disappointment morphing into anger, sizzling at the tips of my fingers. I’m sick of not knowing enough.
“I don’t want you to be mad at me.”
“I’m working on that,” I mutter. Didn’t I deserve a little slack, given the circumstances?
