The abandoned quarry was a valley carved from stone. Liss stood at its center, waiting for her heart to slow its hazardous rhythm. Gray dust covered her shoes and throat and everything in between. Zan lingered at long-range, his back to the tumbled stones they'd climbed down together before she'd asked him to stay back. If this was the epoch of her magic-wielding career, a day she would remember forever, she'd do what she could to prevent hurting him again.
It was overwhelming to harbor such fear and wondrous excitement all tangled together. She supposed the only way to unravel the growing knot of anxiety in her stomach was to get a handle on her power.
"Stay calm and start slow." These had been Zan's instructions before she'd left him at the quarry wall. They'd come out here immediately after separating from Brisa, skipping a tour of camp because of Liss' eagerness to prove herself. "Try to sense your luniya without touching the ground."
"Okay, Zander. Stay here, and I'll give it a shot."
"Right... Sorry."
It was unexpectedly endearing, the way his nose had wrinkled, his gaze darting over her head to where Reis stood on the hill above them. If the older Fex brother hadn't been there, she might have asked him to explain his eyes right then and there.
"If it helps," he'd said, "only people I don't like get to call me that."
"Does that mean you like me? I was starting to worry you were hiding dark secrets."
Liss had chosen that moment to walk away, hiding her trembling hands inside her cloak and wondering what possessed her to say such things. First the bad joke about the river, and then this–? Was she losing it?
She trusted Zan. Really, she did, even though the nagging voice in her head–Dev's voice–urged otherwise. It wasn't like he'd tricked her. She was glad he'd given her his nickname, if that's what he preferred to be called. But there was more to Zan than he let on, and if she was going to risk her life on a quest with him, didn't she at least deserve to know why his eyes changed colors?
Tonight. There would be time to talk alone later. She'd make sure of it. Whatever he wanted to know about her clan and her assumptions about the Fexes, she would tell him. Maybe he'd open up to her in return. But that would all have to wait. There was a more pressing matter to attend to–her magic.
It was still there, the gentlest of tingles, like a whisper of golden light in the back of her mind. It was so much less threatening than the churning waves she'd experienced yesterday. What could she do with it, though? The quarry bed was a barren landscape of straggly weeds and pulverized stone.
Luckily, Zan was far enough away that she felt safe closing her eyes and concentrating. Luniya. Sunlight magic. The description fit the sensation perfectly, as if the heat of the sun itself were channeling through her.
"Good job!" Zan hollered, his voice bouncing off the high stone walls. She would have heard him even if he'd spoken softly, but she welcomed his enthusiastic encouragement.
Had it happened again–was her hair glowing? Like last time, she was afraid to look in case it would stop.
The soles of her feet itched, and her palms grew hot. It wasn't the same burning heat she'd felt in the mountain crevice when she'd hurt herself with a rune, but it was similar enough that she dared to open an eye to investigate. Tiny glowing balls of light, like miniature stars, hovered above her outstretched hands.
What were they–? What was she supposed to do with them?
She lifted her arms and the glowing orbs rose in tandem, never quite touching her hands. They looked benign, but she knew better. They were likely a version of the power she'd inadvertently thrust at Zan.
"Toss and catch them," Reis said from his post above the quarry, leaning against his spear lodged in the earth. "They're not just pretty baubles to gape at. They're weapons."
"I realize that."
Liss drew a steady breath through her nose. The sunlight orbs wavered, their brilliance flickering as if something connected them to her emotions. Would they injure her if she fumbled trying to catch them?
"Your magic can tire you, but it won't hurt you. It is you."
How had Zan known what she was thinking? If he could read minds, she would scream.
But no, he'd already told her he couldn't.
After a few more deep inhales, she threw the orbs into the air. They disconnected from whatever mystical tether had linked them to her palms and flew high, hanging at the top of their arcing paths for a split-second before rushing back down to her. They landed gently, floating above her hands.
A frisson of excitement raced down her spine. It was true; the magic hadn't hurt her!
She practiced throwing the orbs with growing confidence, tossing them high and low, and at angles that defied logic. They returned to her palms each time, bright and harmless. But she hadn't forgotten the bandage on Zan's chest, or how easily she could lose control. One wrong throw, and someone could get hurt.
"Try hitting that bush." Reis pointed to a prickly shrub growing out of a large boulder below him near the west wall. Small pink blossoms sprouted from it, the only splash of color in the dusty quarry.
Was it a rockblossom, the brownie village's namesake flower? It was a shame to destroy something so pretty, but there wasn't much else to practice on. Liss doubted her small orbs would damage boulders or quarry walls. She would need stronger magic to impact stone, and she didn't dare push herself so far.
Still, it felt unnatural to use her magic against a non-threatening living organism.
So much for her eagerness to explode things.
She took tentative steps toward the shrub until the distance matched the height she'd thrown the orbs. Although they'd come back to her before, she suspected they wouldn't this time. The light hadn't returned to her hand after she'd hit Zan with her wayward magic, and the woody bush looked like it would combust at the mere mention of fire.
"Come on. Get on with it." Reis lowered himself to a squat, holding his spear by one hand, the other pressed to the ground.
"No one invited you!" Zan shouted up to him. Liss agreed with the sentiment, of course, but was too preoccupied to say so.
Reis had a point, though. The longer she stood around, scared to test herself, the less time there would be for relaxing later. Liss was exhausted, and she knew there would be limited downtime over the next two days. It was only practical to seize every opportunity she could.
She closed her eyes and focused on the golden warmth building within her. It was becoming easy, like second nature. Zan said most elves were born knowing how to access their magic, and she believed him now. It was like a door hiding within her had opened, and this innate ability had been waiting behind it all the while.
"Please meet your mark," she whispered, tightening one hand into a fist to extinguish the orb upon it, while she drew the other arm out behind her head, her palm facing forward, her fingers bent and stiff with anticipation. The orb was hot near her ear but didn't ignite the wispy strands of her hair caught in the breeze.
One breath. Two. She pitched forward, feeling the luniya orb separate from that invisible tether.
"No!" A tiny voice shrieked.
Her eyes snapped open. A cloud of dust sprayed up, and she immediately clenched her fist. Her nails dug into the hot, clammy flesh of her palm, but the orb didn't extinguish as the other one had. It fell into the slowly settling haze and sizzled.
There was a loud commotion. Someone groaned, then coughed, low to the ground. Liss glimpsed a familiar boot with worsening toe holes and thought she might faint.
Not again!
"Were you trying to get yourself killed?!" Zan let out an unsavory oath and leaped to his feet. "Brother, I know they're nuisances, but you need to calm down."
Goddess but he was fast. Had he really run from the far wall in a few quick seconds?
He sounded... ok, thank Hona. Not that he was making any sense.
"Why did you hesitate, girl?"
Was that Reis?
The dust cleared, and Liss took in the unsettling tableau before her. Indeed, Reis was standing a few strides away, the pointy end of his spear aimed at a tiny person on the ground, whose arms wrapped around the flowering shrub she had been about to incinerate. Zan stood between Reis and the tiny person–a brownie?–his arms held out to his sides.
The brownie whimpered. "Don't kill rockblossom. It is only pretty thing we have."
A wave of sorrow crashed into her, swift and sudden, threatening to collapse her under its weight. The brownie was right. This land was half-dead and diseased because of the witches' dark magic. How could she rationalize using this precious gift—magic from the sun itself—to kill one of the barren landscape's few struggling reminders of life?
Reis saw the tears pooling beneath her eyes and rolled his. "Oh, don't be so dramatic. It's just a plant. It will grow back."
Would it, though?
"Shut up, Reis." Zan gritted his teeth, shaking sweaty curls off his dirt-speckled face. "Put down your weapon, or point it at me and see if I'm as easy to defeat as a defenseless child."
Liss' breath caught in her throat. Zan's bravery was impressive, but could he truly defeat Reis? She hadn't seen a weapon on him, and the extent of his magic was still a mystery. But he was so confident... and agile.
Even Reis took a step backward. "Clearly, you know nothing about Darkbane healing magic! With the proper training, the girl could rejuvenate the plant after torching it. But how will she ever learn, if she's too softhearted to do anything?"
"Don't kill rockblossom," the brownie repeated, lowering a shaky arm from the bush back to its side. It turned its head of short, disheveled hair, and Liss gasped. Zan had mentioned a child, but she hadn't connected the dots. She'd been too distracted.
How could Reis aim a deadly weapon at a child?
Anger frothed under her skin, thick and red hot. She held up her hand, less than an arm's length from the Darkbane elf. A luniya orb swirled above her palm, and for the first time, she wasn't afraid to use it. "Lower your weapon."
Reis' dark eyes flashed wide before narrowing. "You should do it for practice. We all know you aren't strong enough to kill me."
"Would you like to bet on that?" Zan sounded too eager. Liss didn't really want to hurt Reis. She just wanted him to stop.
This was a disaster. How had the child gotten into the quarry? Noa was supposed to be standing guard. Then again, his ineptitude wasn't much of a surprise. That lazy attitude probably flavored everything he touched. And now, because of his incompetence, a brownie had discovered her secret.
Reis huffed, dropping the spearhead to the ground. "The two of you will be a joke against the witches. Do you think they will show you mercy?"
"The whole point is we aren't like them." Zan scraped more hair out of his eyes, gathering it in a short tail at the back of his head. "Some of us, anyway."
"Harden yourself, otherwise you'll have no hope of defeating them." Reis angled the dull end of his spear at Liss, pointed like a finger. "Think of all you have at stake in this war, girl. Think very hard about it before you practice your magic again."
Zan groaned and lowered his arms, releasing his curls to form a messy halo around his head. "Your siblings were supposed to watch the village and forest to make sure none of the brownies scampered in here. Maybe you're the ones who need to practice working together."
"She won't say anything. Will you, Thimble?"
Reis stared down at the wide-eyed brownie, a threat of unknown origin passing between them. It made Liss warier than ever and even more inclined to loose her magic on Reis, but she resisted. For the moment, it seemed like the mature thing to do.
"Thimble will keep your secret." Why did it sound like a dirty thing when Reis said it? "Her mother and father owe us their lives, and now she owes me hers."
"She owes you nothing." Liss stepped beside Zan, blocking Reis' path to the tiny, terrified brownie. "I won't let you threaten her."
"Then you're a fool. Even your bratty beau knows better than to trust their kind."
Reis chuckled as if he'd made a terrific joke. It embarrassed Liss that he'd referred to Zan as her beau, but was it really a surprise? The Fexes had watched them hold hands–three or four times, at least–so what else could they think?
"Don't let my sister's kind words trick you. Threats keep brownies in check, no matter how desperate and thirsty they might be."
Zan growled. "Go back to the village. We didn't ask you to come here, and if it wasn't obvious enough, neither of us wants you here."
"Children, all three of you." Reis brought his spear to his side with a graceful swing and started toward the lowest quarry wall. He waited until he'd reached a distance Liss' orbs might not carry before turning back to them one last time. "Make no mistake, this is the saddest day for the Darkbane in three hundred years."
A small hand patted Liss' back after he was gone. "Thank you, Elvesies. Thimble won't tell." The child circled around and smiled at her. The horror from a few moments ago was absent from those big, dark eyes. "Friends?"
Liss smiled too, but she was nervous. After what happened with Moon–Wisp–she was inclined to tread carefully. But she saw nothing except innocent hope in the child's sweet face.
She nodded, blinking back tears. "Friends."
Thimble scampered over to the rockblossom bush and plucked one of the pink flowers, handing it to Liss. "Put in magic hair. As gift."
Liss glanced down at the pale tangles covering her shoulders. The glow was fading but undeniable. She tucked a long lock behind her ear, and the blossom along with it.
"Thank you, Thimble. I'm sorry for frightening you. I promise I won't damage any of your plants." She bent over and placed a hand on the child's head, jostling her slightly. "You know, you speak Elvish pretty well. Did your father teach you?"
Thimble jumped up, puffing her chest. Even standing, she only reached Liss' thigh. "Yes. Pan taught me everything. Elvish. Cooking. Sneaking. Finding. How to be quiet."
Zan snorted. "Sounds like a well-rounded education for a brownie."
"Well-rounded?" Thimble tipped her tiny face toward him. Her puckered lips separated in wonder. "You the one Pan called Hornsies!"
"Zander," he bit out, his eyes shadowed behind his shaggy hair. The brownie's tiny feet shuffled in reverse until her back hit Liss' knees.
Liss tried not to giggle. "Don't worry about him. He's all bark and no bite." She ruffled the child's hair again. "Didn't you know he saved you?"
"He did?" Thimble darted a nervous glance at Zan, her chubby fingers worrying her lips. "Then Thimble cooks for you. Is Elvesies hungry?"
Liss looked at Zan. She didn't have to consult with her stomach. It had been throwing fits for hours. All she'd eaten since sunrise was fruit and a handful of nuts. If the brownies could offer more than that, it would be a veritable feast.
But... Training. Ayer. The Revelry. Her clan.
As hard as it had been to hear Reis' pompous diatribe, he wasn't completely wrong. Liss was young and inexperienced. She didn't know Zan's age, but she suspected he wasn't much older than her. It wasn't a guarantee of incompetence or failure–Zan certainly had more life experience than she did; and Liss was determined–but it was a reminder that they needed to remain vigilant. Focused. When they reached Blackwater, Liss would need to use force.
Was she ready to fight or was she too soft-hearted, as Reis accused? Would she hesitate to use her magic as a weapon even if her target deserved it?
Liss thought of her rage when the dust cleared and she'd seen Reis standing there, his spear pointed at Thimble. An innocent. A child. Reis didn't know it, but at that moment, she'd been ready to send everything she had at him. She hadn't hesitated out of fear. She'd done it because there was something within her he didn't understand. Basic decency.
"Hungry? Aye." Zan rubbed his stomach. "I think we've earned ourselves a meal, don't you?" He turned to Liss, grinning, his teeth bright against his grimy face. "You got a hang of your orbs, and we got Reis to leave. The lesson was a resounding success!"
Liss coughed twice, putting a protective hand on Thimble's shoulder as they started toward the tumbledown rock wall.
"Oh. Right." Zan had the good sense to look chagrined. "It would have been even better, of course, if Reis hadn't tried to poke our sneaky little friend. But I think we all learned our lesson, and that's the most important thing."
"Friendboat?" Thimble's small head wobbled, darting glances between them.
"Umm...?"
Liss chuckled. It was the sincerest laughter she'd experienced in ages. It made her feel half-mad, like anything was possible. "Yes," she said, nodding resolutely. "Friendship is the most important lesson of all."
"Oh!" Zan snapped his fingers after a delay that had her laughing even more hysterically. "I get it, now."