The Onyx Vial (Shadows of The Nine Book 1) (5 page)

Her mother.

Ariana pulled up short. Tehya and Hunter halted beside her.

“Oh, no,” Tehya said, her voice low.

“What? What's wrong?” Hunter whispered.

Madame Emory rarely, if ever, came into the city. She usually stayed in the country, in their carefully disguised house, venturing out only equally undercover. She was still too recognizable to some of the older citizens—the ones who knew her past and Ariana's father. Not that Ariana was privy to much of that information. Her mother kept a lot of secrets. Not just her father's, either, Ariana was certain. She had to. It was her job. So what on Ionia could bring her to Eastridge now, without disguise? Unless her father suddenly pieced his ashes back together and returned from his unmarked grave, she had no other family, so her mother wasn't there to tell her someone had been taken or died. Was this some showy new tactic to throw Ariana off balance? To somehow garner her sympathy by making her worry?

Well. If that was the case, she wouldn't give her mother the satisfaction. She met her stare, the anger she'd managed to leave behind in the Pass slithering up her spine. The air cooled around her in response. She really needed to get that under control before her first day at Ruekridge.

Tehya nudged her in the back.
“Better go on in."

Ariana deflated. Tehya was right. What was she going to do? Run away back to the house? Whatever had possessed her mother to risk coming into town as herself, it was best just to get it over with. At least with the other kids in the house, the scolding wouldn't be quite so bad. Maybe.

She sighed heavily, then straightened her back and marched forward. But when she reached the doorstep, she suddenly found herself unable to meet her mother's eyes, tucking her chin as she slipped past into the house.

The room was too quiet. At the far end of the long space, past the jumble of earthy-colored chairs and sofas, five boys faced her from their seats at the kitchen table. Too scared to move, their eyes, wide as Scales, followed the woman now hot on Ariana's heels as she threaded her way through the furniture. They looked absurd. Like they were sitting for the most awkward painting ever made. In any other circumstance, she would have laughed. Instead, she gave them each a quick nod hello—William, all fiery brown hair and bright green eyes, perched on the chair arm at the head of the table; lanky, haughty-looking Finn with his sharp chin and silver eyes; small, dark-haired Dilyn, tucked in the chair between the golden boys: fit, muscular Perry and his leaner, but equally muscular older brother Grant—then she started up the squared-off spiral staircase that divided the entry room and the kitchen.

On the first floor landing, she whirled and faced her mother. She could hear the collective exhale from the boys below, followed by hushed voices.

For a moment, Madame Emory said nothing. Her expression was a familiar mix of protectiveness and anger. But there was something else in her eyes tonight. Something that made rocks form in Ariana's stomach.

"If you want me to apologize for coming to Eastridge, I won't," Ariana said.

Her mother blinked, her face unchanging. "I didn't expect you to."

"I needed to remove myself from the situation," she explained. "I couldn't think straight."

Her mother nodded. "Yes, I could feel that."

She was so calm. A chill raked Ariana's spine. "You can't fight me on this forever, Mother. You can follow me here, and stop me from doing anything you disapprove of, but you can't follow me to Ruekridge. You won't have any say over my classes, or be able to trail me in the hallways to make sure I don't sneak off somewhere and read. And you can't change my mind on this."

"I'm afraid you're right." Her mother looked tired and sad. She was agreeing. She was finally giving in. Wasn't she? Why, then, would she need to see Ariana tonight to tell her this?

"Why did you come here?" she asked. "You never come here. Not without protection."

“I was disguised.”

“Not in the doorway just now.”

Her mother waved her off. "You fail to see reason, Ariana, and so I am driven to do unreasonable things."

Ariana frowned. This sounded vaguely foreboding.

“You are too valuable to me—to the Shadows—to throw your life away on those books, Ariana. I know you think they are the key to revolution, but they won't save us. You, on the other hand, with the right training, could. I need you to understand that. You think you are invincible. But the moment the Fyrennians get their hands on you, you'll learn how fragile you really are. You are too valuable to put yourself in unnecessary danger. And it is clear to me now that you will do just that when you reach the school.”

“I don't understand,” Ariana said. “And I don't understand what you mean to do about it.” But deep, deep down, she thought she might. It terrified her.

Madame Emory's cold grey eyes held steady in the pause. Time grew syrupy. Ariana's held breath warmed and expanded, clawing her lungs. And then her mother spoke. “I've withdrawn you from Ruekridge.”

Ariana's
exhale solidified on her tongue. The buzz of shock sang through her blood. “What?” she choked, her eyes burning—salty and wet.

“I've spoken to Bardoc, just before you arrived. I don't know how I missed you on the Pass. Please tell me you didn't take the main road.”

Ariana stared, unable to respond.

When it was clear Ariana wasn't going to answer, she continued. “Once your training with Bardoc ends, you will reach your Mastery at home with me. Bardoc will assist with supplemental materials and—”

A chill washed over her, but she finally found her voice. “No—” she whispered—pleaded.

“It's already done.”

“You ca—you can't."
The temperature in the landing plummeted. "How could you do this to me?”

The pity in her mother's eyes did nothing to calm her bewildered rage. “I warned you, Ariana. You left me no choice.”

A bitter laugh escaped Ariana's trembling lips. But her response was smothered beneath her mother's simple words. There was nothing she could say—nothing she could do to stop this from happening.

“I know you're upset—”

“
Upset?!
” Ariana half-shrieked, half-choked.

Ruekridge. The Orders. Her friends downstairs. All of it was lost forever, blown away on the wind. The entire world of her future, built over years of dreaming, burned up like portal books in one small conversation. Upset? She was devastated.

“Someday,” her mother was saying, “you will come to see that your worth is more than those books, Ariana. You will be valuable to the Shadows, as we both know you are, but you won't be singled out as the Fyrennians' number one target.”

Ariana shook her head, the tears spilling from her eyes. “Don't,” she sobbed, feeling her legs start to buckle beneath her.
She grabbed the banister to keep herself standing.
“Don't try and justify this.”

Her mother reached for her, but Ariana shoved her away. “I wish it had been you the Fyrenninas caught when I was a baby. I wish it was father here with me now,” she spat, not knowing if she meant it, but knowing it was the only thing she could say to inflict some kind of pain back at her mother. Then she turned, relishing the look of hurt on Madame Emory's face as she climbed the next flight of stairs with as much dignity as she could muster. She reached Tehya's room, slammed the door shut behind her, and collapsed onto the floor in a rush of tears.

Chapter 5

Hunter stood there, feeling awkward as introductions were suspended while everyone eavesdropped. He started fiddling with his bag to combat the urge to listen along, and pulled out the remaining pages of Elder Script. They looked more fragile and ragged and wrinkled than he was comfortable with. He wished they hadn't gotten wet. Actually, if he was wishing for things... a memory flared up.
Huntsmen breaking down the door and his grandpa turning away from him to fight them off as he disappeared through the book
. No. He wouldn't think of that. He would focus on the pages. They were the smallest bit damp still. He needed to protect them from further damage and maybe, just maybe, flatten them out a bit. So he carefully removed each one and folded it neatly down the middle, then tucked them between the pages of the now useless book, which Tehya had kindly returned to him in the Pass.

The sound of muffled footsteps preceded the angry slam of a door. Hunter looked up, prepared to see Ariana or her mother descend the steps, but after a tense couple minutes waiting, the tall, tousle-haired intellectual type stood to greet him. “William,” he said, extending a hand.

Hunter went to shake it, only to falter at the sight of William's fingers, curled as if around the handle of an invisible mug.

“I'm Tehya's older brother,” he added, not seeming to notice Hunter's hesitation effortlessly gripping and curling Hunter's fingers into the curve of his own.

A cupped handshake. Easy enough. “I figured as much,” Hunter replied, nodding toward the dark red hair William shared with his sister.

William gave a little laugh in response

The muscular boy at the other end of the table, with his wavy golden mop of hair, flashed Hunter a lopsided, mischievous grin. “You're new.”

Hunter shrugged and nodded, but wondered,
New to what
?

“Hunter, this is Perry,” Tehya said in a rush, her eyes darting to the stairs.

Perry's grin widened to a smile, and he prodded a finger at the leaner, slightly older version of himself two chairs to the right. “That's my brother. Though you'll only hear me admit it once.”

His brother snatched at Perry's finger and shot a wink at Hunter. “I'm Grant.”

The mousey-looking, raven-haired boy ducking beneath the arms of the brothers pushed himself  out of his chair and stood as tall as his—couldn't be more than five foot four—stature would allow. “I'm Dilyn," he said, peeking around the one boy who had yet to acknowledge Hunter's presence with even a glance.

But then that boy, too, lifted a pale hand, and ran it through his even paler hair as he said, “Finn,” in a voice that seemed bored by itself.

“How long was she here before we arrived?” Tehya addressed her brother, clearly impatient with the introductions.

William shook his head. “Not sure. She must have gone straight to Father's studio door. So many people have been doing that these days, I don't even hear the bell anymore. She didn't come down until you were on our street.”

“Surprised the Helede out of us,” Grant added.

“I'm going to check on Ariana,” Tehya said. “Make yourself comfortable, Hunter. I'm sure the boys can make room for you in their game. Can't you?” she asked the group.

There was a smattering of ascension and Hunter's eyes drew toward the tabletop for the first time. Little blocks and cylinders the width of a finger or thumb, depending on the game piece, were scattered over a familiar playing area.

He brightened and exclaimed, “Kings!” recognizing the blocks and cylinders as kubbs and batons.

Finn turned to him, more interest in his ghostly grey eyes. “You play?”

“All the time,” he answered.

Just then, a bubble seeped from the middle of the birch-white wood. It knocked over a game piece before freeing itself from the table. Another quickly followed. Hunter stared.

“Aaaand the post wins!” Perry declared, eyeing the fallen King.

The bubbles drifted lazily in Hunter's direction. And then, to his surprise, they diverged and glided purposefully toward Grant and William. The boys, unfazed by this, each reached out and popped the bubble in front of them. The moment their fingers touched them, the shimmering orbs disintegrated in oily strands and two fat envelopes plopped onto the table.

Hunter gawked. The post! So
this
was how Ionians communicated. Grandpa had never mentioned it. He'd never really focused on the everyday magic when he'd told Hunter stories of this place. A swirling knot of excitement and curiosity rose in his throat. There was so much to learn. As scared and lost as he was, he was also incredibly excited.

The boys grabbed their envelopes. Grant stuffed his in the back pocket of his pants, while William quickly tore into his and pulled out several sheets of paper, dense with ink. “Perfect,” he said. “I'm going to look this over and compare it to my schedule. Hunter, take my place in the game while I'm gone?”

Hunter shook the awe off his face and nodded. “Sure."

"Should probably let father know he's got another student, too, if Tehya hasn't already." William headed up the stairs. 

Hunter shoved away the questions William's comment spawned in his mind, and let himself focus on something fun. If only for a little bit. "What's my team?”

“How good are you at this game?” Perry asked in response.

Finn barked a laugh. “You afraid he can't cut it and you'll lose?”

“Psh!” Perry replied. “I just wanted to give you a chance." He swiped the game pieces into a pile on the far side of the table.

“You any good, then?” Dilyn asked.

“The best,” he replied automatically. Then wished he hadn't. It sounded so conceited. He'd only ever played his grandpa. But the old man had been a Kings champion when he was younger, apparently. And Hunter beat him nearly every time. So maybe he was the best.

Grant snorted. “Not around here, you aren't.”

“Could be,” Hunter challenged, deciding to stick with the bravado he came in on.

“Only one way to find out,” Finn announced. “Who's taking the gamble on him?”

Perry sized him up. “I think he's telling the truth. I'll take the action. Us against you three.”

“You just want to cover for needing to ask,” Finn jeered as Grant moved to the head of the table and Dilyn rounded the other side, pulling the game pieces with him.

Perry grinned. “Never.”

Finn rolled his eyes and reached into the pile, helping Dilyn sort the pieces as Hunter selected a chair and sat down. Immediately, he felt the weight of the last twenty-four hours settle on his shoulders. His body felt tired.

"We weren't expecting the girls tonight," Dilyn said. "But I guess you'd be why they're here?"

Hunter shook off his lethargy and sat up straighter. "Actually,
I think they were headed here when we met."

"When you met? You weren't at the house with them?" Grant asked.

"No, we met on the road," Hunter said, though it suddenly felt more like an admission than a statement.

More than one pair of eyebrows drifted upward.

"Rockwood Pass?" Dilyn asked.

Hunter nodded.

"You were out there on your own?" Finn's tone was disinterested, but Hunter thought he must always sound that way, because Finn's eyes were trained eagerly on his face.

Hunter hesitated. Here was the test. He could tell them, or he could lie. They were Tehya and Ariana's friends, and he felt like he could trust... well, Tehya at least. But he knew nothing about them. He had to trust
someone
or he'd never get the answers he needed. He just couldn't mess up again and get himself in any more trouble with the Huntsmen. "I, uh... yeah. It wasn't my plan to be, but yeah," he answered haltingly. There. Something not quite a lie and not quite the truth. Before they could question him further, he added, "What's with Ariana and her mom?"

"If you mean tonight, who knows," Perry said. "But in general? She's into things her mother doesn't approve of."

"Like what?" he asked, only mildly surprised by this. She seemed the kind of girl who was a challenge for her parents.

"Like the book, Hunter," came Tehya's voice, grave and quiet.

He turned to see her coming down the stairs. She looked a little pale and upset.

"Oh. We're telling him that?" Dilyn asked her, a warning tone under his breezy question.

"Yes," was all she said. It was kind, but firm, and left no room for further questions.

"They still at it?" Grant asked.

She shook her head. "Madame Emory is in the studio with father. Ariana will be down in a little while. She... needed some space.”

“Even from you?” Perry seemed amazed.

“Yeah, well. You know how she can be after her mother goes at her," Tehya's expression was part annoyance, part resignation. "Anyway, Wil caught me on the stairs. Said he needed my help prepping dinner, since there's more of us eating tonight than he'd planned.”

“Three more shouldn't overwhelm him,” Grant scoffed.

Tehya squirmed, unconsciously twirling the ends of her hair around her palm. “Five more,” she said, almost an apology. “Father and Madame Emory are joining us.”

There was silence a moment, then Perry said, “Well. That won't be awkward."