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I pause.
In the firelight, Esther looks just like Marrow. The way her strawberry hair curls slightly from behind her ears. The angle of her jaw. The kindness in her eyes. His eyes.
It’s so obvious now, I cannot believe I didn’t notice it the moment I first saw her. Marrow’s daughter.
“Akemi?”
“What?”
“Aren’t you supposed to help me up or something?” Esther says, pink blotching her cheeks.
“Oh, right.” I tug on our conjoined hands, pulling her to a stand.
Ramona shoves her boots back on and mutters under her breath.
Leaf remains frozen in the chair. I can only hope his schedule is open during this period.
“Ready for the last final?” Esther asks cheerily.
“No,” Ramona says, just as I answer, “Yes.” Because the next final is Old World History with Professor Allor, and if there is one thing an Apprentice Teller is good at, it’s memorizing stories.
44
Light in the Window
The theater inside the Watch is a cavern of velvet and gold, its air so thick with the Source that it tastes like ozone and old parchment. I sit a few rows from the stage, my palms slick against the fabric of my formal leathers. Beside me, Ramona is a jittery ball of Sun’cher energy. She’s checking her three hidden daggers for the tenth time, her dark eyes darting across the stage as if she expects an ambush instead of a graduation.
“Relax,” I whisper, though my own heart is a frantic bird against my ribs. “You’re getting your second stone, Ramona. You’ve earned it.”
“I just don’t want to trip,” she mutters, thick with nerves. “Five older brothers, Akemi. If I faceplant in front of Elder Superior, I’ll never hear the end of it.”
I offer a small, tight smile. My mind, however, is drifting to the last time I stood before a crowd like this. Back then, I had no one in the stands. Only Atlys, my royal sponsor, watching from the shadows with those silver, soul-eating eyes. A sharp pang of worry pierces my chest.
Atlys.
He lied to me.
He said he was fine. How long did he know? I rub the side of my wrist where Atlys’s iridescent tattoo still lingers. Can he feel me? Would he know if I was sick?
“Attention!” Elder Superior Markus’s voice booms, cold and calculated, cutting through my thoughts. He stands at the center of the stage, his face a mask of disappointment. The theater hushes in response.
“The Stone Ceremony marks the transition from practice to permanence,” Markus announces. “The Source is a gift, and these stones are your conduit. Use them well, or be consumed by them.”
Leaf leans forward from his chair behind us. “That was inspirational,” he whispers.
Ramona swats him away.
“First years, make your way to the stage!” Elder Superior Markus gestures to the first few rows of seats. In one motion, the cadets stand and form a line, ready to receive their very first channeling stone.
Esther is near the front, hands clasped behind her formal Watcher blues. I rub my chest. She resembles Marrow so much on that stage. That same eccentric spark, her hair a wild halo, and a grin that I know with years will form into the same one I saw on my Master Teller.
“Esther Cirillo.”
Esther steps forward, and Markus places a stone onto her hand. Sunfyre immediately bubbles in tiny orbs around the hall. “May your light shine as bright as the sun.”
She beams, her youthful face radiant, and I feel a swell of pride. Marrow would have been so proud.
The rest of the first-stones cross the stage and collect their stones in grand flashes of golden light or swirling silver white myst. Elder Markus calls the second-stones forward.
