Whirl (Ondine Quartet Book 1) (9 page)

"Maybe." The brief glimpse of empathy on his
face disappeared, replaced by grim authority. "But laws and rules
exist for a reason, Irisavie. I can't break them for the sake of
one person."

I saw it in his eyes. Gabriel wasn't going to
budge. He was a military man, trained to respect the importance of
order and chain of command. He wasn't going to break the system
that was currently in place, no matter his personal
reservations.

He placed a hand gently on my shoulder and
his voice softened. "Look, you already have a lot to deal with.
Take some time to adapt to your new life here."

He gave a comforting smile and left.
Frustrated, I wandered down the east hallway. I was disappointed
with Gabe's reaction. Since he'd been raised human, I was sure he
would side with me on this. But I hadn't known there was an actual
law that governed who could become a chevalier.

Asking him to put me in was the same as
asking him to perform a criminal act. But hadn't my father been
willing to break the law by training my mother? No, that was
different. My mother never wanted to be a chevalier. She'd simply
wanted to learn how to fight, and my father had taught her
privately. Although it was frowned upon, it didn't technically
break any laws.

I could ask Gabriel to do the same. But as
soon as the thought came, I rejected it.

Even if Gabe gave me private sessions, I knew
that it wouldn't be enough. I wanted to fight against Aquidae.
Regardless of what every other ondine here thought, I was a shark,
not a swan.

Sighing, I stopped and looked around. Most of
the rooms in this part of the House were either small sitting areas
or large, coldly furnished conference rooms. I'd stopped in front
of an enormous set of carved wooden doors at the end of the
corridor. Slightly ajar, a faint yellow glow emanated from the
opening.

Curious, I pushed the doors open and peeked
inside. An expansive library spiraled upward for three floors,
taking up the entire corner of this wing. Hundreds of thousands of
books gleamed in the soft light and a hushed power reverberated
through the air.

Two royal gardinels blocked the entrance,
their muscular chests and glinting pedaillons suddenly a few inches
in front of my face.

They moved so silently it was like they'd
appeared out of thin air.

"Sorry. Didn't realize books needed
protection," I muttered, irritated.

"May I help you,
sondaleur
?" Augustin
Genevieve rose from a reading table in the middle of the room. As
he walked to the doorway, he made a small gesture and the gardinels
stepped aside.

Funny. Just like Rhian, he called me
sondaleur.
But it didn't bother me. He made it sound
respectful, like calling someone, "ma'am," or, "miss."

"Why all the protection?"

He looked puzzled. "Protection?"

"Gardinels and all this magic." I loosely
waved my hand in the air. "For a library?"

He considered. "The magic is Essence that
leaks from the books. This library contains the extensive history
and knowledge of the water elemental world. Words have immense
power." He tilted his head thoughtfully. "How interesting that you
can feel it. Most people have no awareness of it."

Essence was the magic created by combining
the blood of the four most powerful water elemental races -
ondines, demillirs, dessondines, and selkies. It was the same magic
that infused the
kouperet
blade.

He arched an eyebrow. "The gardinels are here
because library access is only given to Governing Council members
and government administrators."

"Why?"

"History and knowledge are powerful things,
sondaleur
. And it's always better to be cautious about who
is allowed access to that power."

I was beginning to wonder if anyone was
allowed to do anything here. Everything was restricted, the flow of
information carefully controlled.

His expression turned shrewd. "Is there
something on your mind? Perhaps I may be of assistance."

I gave a dramatic sigh. "Not unless you know
how I can change a stupid, ancient law."

His light blue eyes sparkled. "Maybe I do.
After all, I've been involved with law and politics around here for
a long time." He leaned against the doorway and crossed his arms, a
pensive expression on his face.

He may have been good at his job, but at this
point even his offer to help seemed useless.

I snorted. "I doubt you'll be able to change
this. Not unless you can flip Haverleau inside out and convince
everyone to radically change their narrow-minded views."

His gaze was speculative. "You never know,
sondaleur
. If there's one thing I've learned over the years,
it's that the smallest ripples have the power to create a tidal
wave."

"Kendra?" Chloe's voice called down the
hallway.

"Thanks anyway, Jeeves," I said and he gave a
gentle laugh at my shortened nickname. "Maybe next time I can ask
you to help me with something not so impossible."

He gave a slight, old-fashioned bow that
would have looked funny if he hadn't done it so gracefully.

"Of course." He grinned and it made his
distinguished face look a bit roguish. "Just for the record,
though. I believe nothing is impossible."

When I got back to the foyer, Chloe and
Aubrey stood under a large portrait of Rhian that hung on the wall
near the doors. I hadn't noticed it when we first arrived.

"Are you okay?" Aubrey asked. "When you
didn't return, we thought maybe you'd left with Gabe. The rest of
them are staying to discuss business so the Governor said we should
head back."

"I didn't want to sit there anymore," I
shrugged. "So I went exploring."

Aubrey blinked and a small smile tugged at
Chloe's mouth. Marcella strode in, her eyes locking on to me.

"Kendra? Can I speak to you for a
moment?"

Chloe gave my arm a quick squeeze. "We'll
wait for you in the car."

I nodded and as they walked out I studied the
imposing portrait of my grandmother. It must have been painted when
she first became Governor. A much younger Rhian gazed out at me,
her face smooth and unlined with hair the same raven black as
Marcella's. She almost looked beautiful, with refined patrician
features and creamy skin. Only the eyes remained the same as the
Rhian I knew now.

Marcella stood next to me and I caught the
faintest scent of her perfume. It reminded me of fresh meadows
after a brief rainstorm. "That's the most recent portrait of her.
It was done a year ago."

Startled, I looked back at the portrait. It
couldn't be. She couldn't have aged so much in one year. It was
like the difference between a thirty-year-old and a
sixty-five-year-old. Unless…

"My mother was the one who knew Naida died,"
Marcella said, confirming my thoughts. "She woke in the middle of
the night and informed everyone of her passing. She knew the moment
it happened." She faced me, sadness etching tight lines between her
brows and around her mouth. "By the next morning, she'd aged to
what she looks like now. Her health has continued to decline."

I tried to cover up my shock. It was one
thing to talk about it, but it was another thing to see actual
proof of what happened when the bonds between an ondine mother and
child were cut short.

"I know you just got here," Marcella
continued. "And I know there are many things you didn't expect.
Your grandmother is not the easiest person to get along with. But I
want you to know that she did love your mother very much. The
ondine bond between mother and child is sacred."

Hazel eyes, clear and unwavering, met mine
steadily. After a few moments, I gave a short nod of
acknowledgement.

"Good." Her voice was a bit gruff. She turned
to head back to the dining room. "I'll see you soon."

I stood there for a few more minutes, staring
at Rhian's portrait. It made her seem imposing and larger than
life, a figure who radiated power and iron strength.

I pictured her waking in the middle of the
night, knowing without a doubt that her daughter was dead, far from
home.

Regardless of how I felt about her, I
wouldn't wish that kind of grief on anyone.

SEVEN

The afternoon sun blazed in the cloudless sky. I made my way up the
dirt trail that wound through the woods on the western edge of the
Academy. The letter from the headmaster's office had arrived this
morning, informing me that I was to attend my first class with my
new magic instructor. The location they gave was far from the main
campus, though it was technically still on school grounds.

The sound and smell of the ocean grew
stronger as I trudged up the road. Tall evergreen trees, bright
green with spring, surrounded me on all sides. After a semi-steep
incline, the trail ended on a flat bluff that overlooked the
coast.

A small, wooden cottage was the only thing up
here. It looked neglected and in disrepair. The roof sagged and it
was in desperate need of a new coat of paint. The rough quality
oddly suited its wild location on top of the cliff.

Feeling a bit unsure, I knocked twice.

"Come in. Door's open," a throaty female
voice called out.

The small home was a cluttered mess and
smelled like a smoky bar. The living room was filled with wires and
cables protruding from several computers and a stereo system that
was attached to huge floor speakers. Books were haphazardly
arranged into waist-high piles on the ground, and hundreds of DVDs
and CDs lay scattered everywhere. Empty beer cans, pizza boxes, and
bags of junk food were strewn randomly across the floor.

There was barely any space for me to walk. It
was like I'd walked into some guy's ratty college dorm room.

"Back here, dear."

I carefully picked my way through the
littered floor and headed to the next room. It was a small dining
area and kitchenette. Another room, probably the bedroom, lay on
the other side. A flat-screen, high-definition television was
mounted on the wall, tuned to a game show.

An old woman sat at a rickety wooden table,
smoking a cigarette in one hand and holding a glass of amber liquid
in the other. A half-empty bottle of scotch was in front of
her.

My new instructor, I presumed.

The ondine was
really
old. She looked
like she was in her nineties, which meant that her real age was
closer to one hundred and twenty. Thin and frail, she was tiny, no
taller than five feet. Long hair framed her face like a silvery
waterfall and her entire skin was covered in a complex web of deep
wrinkles.

I was thinking she really shouldn't be
sucking on those cancer sticks and chugging booze at her age when
she spoke.

"Kendra Irisavie. We meet at last." Light
periwinkle eyes peered at me.

"Um, yeah. Ms…?" I paused, feeling rather
stupid at not even knowing her name.

"Oh, for God's sakes, sit down and call me
Nexa. I don't like anyone addressing me by my Redavi name. Bunch of
posturing idiots." She tapped the tip of her cigarette in an
ashtray already overflowing with butts. The top of the table was
barely visible, buried under empty bags of assorted snacks.

"Want any?" She extended a bag of sour cream
and onion chips.

"No, thanks." I sat down, growing more
curious by the second. "What's your family name?"

"Genevieve." I remembered the other pair of
light blue eyes I'd seen last night.

"I met Jeev…er, Augustin last night."

She gave a harsh bark of laughter. "My dear
grandson. He absolutely despises me, you know," she added
conversationally.

It was hard to believe the distinguished,
impeccably dressed man I'd met was remotely related to this
woman.

"The answer is Simone de Beauvoir, you
idiot!" Nexa suddenly shouted at the TV. On screen, a female
contestant had gotten the wrong answer on Jeopardy.

"I swear these contestants are getting
dumber," she huffed. "I knew her, you know."

I had a hard time following her abrupt
changes in conversation. "Who? The woman on TV?"

"No, no. Why would I know her?" Nexa waved
her hand aimlessly and took a big gulp of scotch. The smell of the
strong alcohol wafted through the air. "Simone. She was brilliant,
but absolutely crazy."

This chain-smoking, alcoholic mess was
supposed to train me to use my Virtue? The woman seemed a little
unhinged.

Nexa rummaged around on the table, pushing
aside crumpled bags until she found the remote and switched the
television off.

"Ondines haven't had an Empath in a long
time."

This was nothing new. I'd heard some version
of it from several people.

"Well, not since me, in fact." She studied me
closely.

"You're an Empath?"

Oh God, was I going to turn out like her?

Her mouth twitched in irritation. "No need to
look so shocked. How much of your Virtue are you able to use?"

"I can control it," I told her. "I can turn
it on and off, and I had no problems using it on humans."

Nexa nodded slowly. "So you know how to
filter. Have you used it since arriving here?"

I frowned, recalling the solid wall I
encountered each time I reached out to an elemental. "I thought
Empath only worked with humans. Not with other elementals."

"Ah. Then you've only scratched the surface
of your magic."

"So that's what you're going to teach me? How
to use it with elementals?"

"Among other things," she replied vaguely. "A
little bit of this, a little bit of that."

She stubbed out her cigarette and munched on
a potato chip. A thoughtful expression crossed her face. "You know,
I've been waiting to meet you for quite some time. Ever since the
prophecy was made about the
sondaleur
eighteen years
ago."