She’d arrived six years ago, young for an initiate, but not unheard of. Exceptions could also be made for the niece of the Minister of Sorcery…a fact her peers rarely let her forget.
At the base of the Tower of Sorcerers was the main entry—the only entrance non-sorcerers knew of and could access. There was a waiting area, tables and chairs, and sofas, usually vacant. No one came to visit sorcerers. Emperor Aldrik Solaris and Empress Vhalla Solaris had done a lot to push sorcerers toward being accepted in common society. But hatred and prejudice were self-feeding vines, constantly digging two new tendrils into the hearts of man for every one that was ripped out.
“I was just about to leave without you,” Alyss grumped as she jumped up from the seat she’d been occupying. She sent the clay she’d been magically sculpting back into the pouch on her hip with a thought.
“Sorry.”
“I saw your brother come by, so I knew you wouldn’t be far behind.”
Marcus’s shadow. That was all she ever was. Even Alyss, her best and truest friend, knew it.
“I just got delayed with Uncle. What were you making?” Eira quickly changed the topic.
“Nothing, just messing around.” Alyss grinned. Her fingertips were always stained by clay, or stone dust, from whatever project she was “messing around” with. “What you really should ask me is what I’m reading.”
“You find a new book?”
“Yes, and it’s a truly scandalous story.” Alyss spoke low and fast. “I found it in the back corner of the used bookstore on Flare Avenue. It has things you wouldn’t believe someone penned…much less committed to print!”
“You’re too smart to be filling your head with such things.” Eira rolled her eyes.
“And you’re too fun at heart to be so prudish and off-putting all the time.” Alyss braced her hands on her hips. Dozens of small, long, dark braids Eira had helped weave into her hair a week ago slipped over her shoulder. Beads Alyss’s mother had sent from the North clanked softly at the ends with every turn of her head.
For Eira, a trip home was a hard day’s travel. For Alyss, it was a week to the northernmost region of the Solaris Empire.
“You know nothing about me.” Eira mirrored her friend’s motion, putting her hands on her hips.
“Wh-me? Me? I know nothing about you?” Alyss scoffed loudly, her voice echoing around the iron chandelier overhead. “I am the only one in this whole Tower who knows you.”
Eira hummed but said nothing. A grin threatened to split her lips. Alyss dug her elbow into Eira’s side and freed the expression with a laugh.
“Now, we’re going to the West Clinic today, right?”
“Looks like.”
Together, they set off into the brisk spring dawn.
Ice still clustered around gutters and hung from awnings, sparkling like magic given form in the early morning light. Alyss’s breath plumed before her like a chimney in the cold. But Eira’s was invisible.
Eira closed her eyes, imagining for just a second that she was the spirit of winter itself. She was the crisp air. She lived in the snow banks. Her heart was buried deep, deep in the icy blue of the frost-covered peaks of the mountains that surrounded her.
“Spring can’t come fast enough,” Alyss muttered from under her scarf.
“Winter can’t hold on long enough.” Eira sighed contentedly, stretching her arms high overhead.
“You’re crazy.”
“So they tell me.”
“Lucky for you, I like crazy.” Alyss hooked her elbow with Eira’s. “Now, you didn’t tell me.” She held out the book. “Hear anything?”
“It’s not something I can command…” Smother at best. “You know that.”
“That’s because you don’t try and command it. You just suppress and sink into your ‘ocean.’”
“Because I’d rather not hear the whispers.” And there was no sound in the bubble of water Eira imagined herself within.
Alyss sighed dramatically. “You have a gift and you do nothing with it. So it falls on me to encourage you. Just hold the book and see if you can make it talk?” Alyss pressed the book into Eira’s hands. “Anything?”
Eira turned it over and flipped through the pages. Despite Alyss’s enthusiasm, she kept her magic bundled away. “No, it’s quiet.”
“Damn.” Alyss took the book back and shoved it into her bag, fitting it amongst the salves and potions that she was carrying to the clinic. “One day I’ll find something truly special for you to listen to.”
“I hope not.”
“You have a gift,” she repeated. As if Eira would suddenly agree on the one millionth time.
“I have a curse.”
“Stop being so down.” Alyss jostled her lightly. “It’s positively frigid out here. I know you can’t scowl when it’s this bloody cold.”
Eira cracked a smile. Then, it fell. “There was something, earlier…”
“What?”
…kill the sovereign… That was what the voice had said. A voice as cold as winter’s midnight. Eira shook her head.
“Nothing.”
“I know when it’s something, now tell me.”
“I ran into Noelle and Adam by the Waterrunner’s storeroom.” It was at least partially the truth.
“Oh, Mother above, no doubt mashing faces.” Alyss scowled, and proceeded to rant on something Adam had done during one of her history classes the entire walk to the clinic.
The West Clinic was a three-story structure located on what Eira considered to be the center level of Solarin. There were two others in the city, but this was the largest and always the busiest by default. It was where new clerics were trained in the arts of potions and salves, and Groundbreakers assisted them. It was also where Waterrunners, like her, studied how to use their magic to help the dying transition into the next world.
For every five non-magical people
