even have a brother.”
“Hmm.” He tossed her feather on the ground and crushed it under his boot. “You won’t for long.”
09
Kalindos
S ura stared through the fire into eternity.
The fire was Dravek’s, burning at the far edge of the boulder field below, where she had left him. From her perch outside a small cave on Mount Beros she could see a wide swath of valley. A few hours before, the sun had set, glistening yellow and orange over the distant Velekon River. Thus began the first night of her Bestowing.
The Descendant authorities in Asermos had banned this coming-of-age ritual, as they had all other forms of magic. A few Asermons dared to sneak away for their Bestowing, but those caught were made examples of. Mali had wanted Sura to keep a low profile to avoid scrutiny of her own activities, like raiding armories and planning assassinations.
But Sura had always known that her destiny could only be delayed, not denied. She was meant to be here right now, waiting for her Guardian Spirit.
She wondered how long Dravek’s fire would burn. Surely he would put it out before going to sleep. The night wasn’t cold enough to need the warmth of a flame, so perhaps he was only using the light to perform some task.
She should probably pray or something, Sura realized. Her mother had taught her chants to honor and call upon dozens of Spirits—always quietly, in the privacy of their home, of course. But at the moment nothing seemed right except silence.
Silence, and fire. Her eyes unfocused further, her gaze adhered to the flame. The sensation of cold, hard stone beneath her legs began to fade, and she floated. It seemed as if she could hear the torch’s sparks, that she could rise with them all the way to the sky.
She’d lived the last half of her life afraid. Yet now, on the verge of confronting something more powerful than the entire Ilion army, she felt no fear, only peace.
So much so that when she felt a strange, dark presence at her back, she merely acknowledged its existence. It loomed closer, yet she did not look away from the flame. It rasped a cold breath on the back of her neck, then inhaled hard, as if to pull something out of her. Her strength? Her courage? Her soul?
“Get out,” she whispered, and away it slunk.
Sura watched the fire as it burned all night.
“Stop that,” the eagle said.
“I’ve got to keep up my strength.” Sura flexed her biceps, lifting a round rock the size of her fist. “Never know when I’ll need to defend myself.” She nodded to the eagle. “Go on, I’m listening.”
“And I’m speaking.” Its sharp male voice cut the crisp morning air. “I said to put that down. You’re safe here, so stop trying to be your mother.”
As if I could ever be that strong. Sura dropped the rock and folded her arms. “Can I ask you a question first?” When the bird tilted his cloud-white head, she said, “The Eagles I know call their Spirit She, but you speak to me with a man’s voice. Why?”
“The Spirits are neither male nor female.”
“Even Raven?”
“Especially Raven.” The eagle preened his gleaming brown wing feathers. “We manifest as male or female according to whichever we think you’ll respond to best.”
Sura cocked her head, wondering why the Spirits assumed she would listen better to a man. She’d had so few of them in her life.
The eagle continued. “But we stay consistent with those who serve us, which is why all Eagles refer to me as She. Humans confuse so easily.”
“I can’t deny that.” Something about his words made her glance toward the boulder field. In the bright sunshine she could no longer see the torch, if it still burned, and she definitely couldn’t see Dravek. Her lack of distance vision alone told her that she wasn’t an Eagle.
“If you’re not my Guardian Spirit,” she said to the bird, “why are you here?”
“Because I have something to teach you.”
Sura waited. The eagle shifted his position to stare off
“Hmm.” He tossed her feather on the ground and crushed it under his boot. “You won’t for long.”
09
Kalindos
S ura stared through the fire into eternity.
The fire was Dravek’s, burning at the far edge of the boulder field below, where she had left him. From her perch outside a small cave on Mount Beros she could see a wide swath of valley. A few hours before, the sun had set, glistening yellow and orange over the distant Velekon River. Thus began the first night of her Bestowing.
The Descendant authorities in Asermos had banned this coming-of-age ritual, as they had all other forms of magic. A few Asermons dared to sneak away for their Bestowing, but those caught were made examples of. Mali had wanted Sura to keep a low profile to avoid scrutiny of her own activities, like raiding armories and planning assassinations.
But Sura had always known that her destiny could only be delayed, not denied. She was meant to be here right now, waiting for her Guardian Spirit.
She wondered how long Dravek’s fire would burn. Surely he would put it out before going to sleep. The night wasn’t cold enough to need the warmth of a flame, so perhaps he was only using the light to perform some task.
She should probably pray or something, Sura realized. Her mother had taught her chants to honor and call upon dozens of Spirits—always quietly, in the privacy of their home, of course. But at the moment nothing seemed right except silence.
Silence, and fire. Her eyes unfocused further, her gaze adhered to the flame. The sensation of cold, hard stone beneath her legs began to fade, and she floated. It seemed as if she could hear the torch’s sparks, that she could rise with them all the way to the sky.
She’d lived the last half of her life afraid. Yet now, on the verge of confronting something more powerful than the entire Ilion army, she felt no fear, only peace.
So much so that when she felt a strange, dark presence at her back, she merely acknowledged its existence. It loomed closer, yet she did not look away from the flame. It rasped a cold breath on the back of her neck, then inhaled hard, as if to pull something out of her. Her strength? Her courage? Her soul?
“Get out,” she whispered, and away it slunk.
Sura watched the fire as it burned all night.
“Stop that,” the eagle said.
“I’ve got to keep up my strength.” Sura flexed her biceps, lifting a round rock the size of her fist. “Never know when I’ll need to defend myself.” She nodded to the eagle. “Go on, I’m listening.”
“And I’m speaking.” Its sharp male voice cut the crisp morning air. “I said to put that down. You’re safe here, so stop trying to be your mother.”
As if I could ever be that strong. Sura dropped the rock and folded her arms. “Can I ask you a question first?” When the bird tilted his cloud-white head, she said, “The Eagles I know call their Spirit She, but you speak to me with a man’s voice. Why?”
“The Spirits are neither male nor female.”
“Even Raven?”
“Especially Raven.” The eagle preened his gleaming brown wing feathers. “We manifest as male or female according to whichever we think you’ll respond to best.”
Sura cocked her head, wondering why the Spirits assumed she would listen better to a man. She’d had so few of them in her life.
The eagle continued. “But we stay consistent with those who serve us, which is why all Eagles refer to me as She. Humans confuse so easily.”
“I can’t deny that.” Something about his words made her glance toward the boulder field. In the bright sunshine she could no longer see the torch, if it still burned, and she definitely couldn’t see Dravek. Her lack of distance vision alone told her that she wasn’t an Eagle.
“If you’re not my Guardian Spirit,” she said to the bird, “why are you here?”
“Because I have something to teach you.”
Sura waited. The eagle shifted his position to stare off
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