Even over the howling gale, I hear my name.
Blaze.
I wake with a start. Wrapping a rug round my shoulders, I push open the glass doors and sit on the balcony to watch the sunrise.
The dreams started shortly after the eclipse. I’d be lying if I said they didn’t unsettle me, but more than anything, I find them frustrating. Infuriating, even. Because whatever it is that waits for me in the distance, I can never reach it.
I wonder what it’s supposed to symbolize. The Aquatori crown? The future I had planned for myself? My mother? I considered telling Flint, but I didn’t want to bore him. They’re just dreams, after all.
It’s not long before my thoughts turn to my water gifts. All those years thinking I was empty. Hating myself for it. Now, I understand. The rain, the ice, they’re both Melded, bothmine. I have what I always wanted – power of my own. And I intend to make the most of it.
Elva appears, placing my breakfast tray down on the balcony. If the Etheri are scared of me, then the Fidra can barely meet my eye. Yet Elva’s eyes, almost luminous in the early-morning light, do meet mine. She turns to go but I stop her with a question.
‘Do you want to join me?’
She looks frightened, and a little bewildered.
‘There’s more than enough for two,’ I say, gesturing to the tray, which is heaped with cinnamon bread, three different types of jam, melon, fried mushrooms, coffee and pomegranate juice. I’m not sure what they feed the serfs down in the kitchens, but I know it’ll be nothing like this. I don’t press her though, suddenly embarrassed that I asked.
She pauses for a long moment before sitting down beside me warily.
‘Which isle of the Otherlands are you from?’ I ask, pouring myself coffee and adding a generous helping of cream and sugar.
Elva doesn’t answer, just picks up some bread and holds it to her nose, inhaling the scent before tearing off a tiny piece and chewing it very slowly.
‘Do you have any family?’
She hesitates, then nods.
‘And did they come here with you? To Ostacre?’
A shake.
‘Do you miss them?’
A nod. Another bite of bread.
‘I have a younger brother back home. His name’s Renly. I miss him a lot. I’ve never been away from him before.’
Elva accepts a slice of melon.
I blow on my coffee, trying to think of something else to say. ‘My hair looked beautiful last night.’
It really did. She’d threaded tiny moonstones through my braids, each one glinting as it caught the light.
‘Where’d you learn how to do that?’ I ask her.
She blinks. Pauses. Opens her mouth. Closes it. Then says quietly, ‘Amma.’
I stare at her. Over the years, I have had a lot of time to read a lot of books, and in every language I have ever studied, there is one word that always sticks out to me. I know it in a number of dialects. This one in particular originates from Obsidia, an isle far across the Second Sea, known as the Land of Eternal Night.
Amma. Mother.
That’s when I realize Elva has answered not one but two of my questions. Because she gave me her answer in her native tongue – Obsidian.
The sound of a door slamming shatters the stillness, and Elva gets to her feet quickly, backing away as Spinner hurtles into the room. I pull on my tunic and let my chaperone drag me down to the entrance hall. It’s not my brother waiting for me there, but Kai.
‘Ready for training?’
