Myrrhtide went dead white. He kicked his horse into a trot on up the trail, away from us.
Rosethorn came over. “Luvo, remind me to stay on your good side. It was very well done, though.” She mounted her horse and looked at Jayat. “I hope Myrrhtide went in the right direction.”
Jayat wiped sweat from his face and nodded. His dark cheeks were scarlet. He took a drink of water. “I don’t think I was worthy of that, Master Luvo.”
“I am thousands of years older than you, Jayatin. I know what you deserve.”
6
I Fuss with Fusspot
We caught up to Myrrhtide. Nobody said anything for a long time. I believe none of us could think of anything that wouldn’t sound like fake jewels after Luvo’s thunder.
The trail followed those earth lines marked for the island’s mages. It often came close to places where plants and water had gone bad. Not all the water places—ponds or streams—had turned acid, but there were plenty of dead patches of land. Rosethorn got quieter and quieter. Her eyebrows came together more often in her puzzled look, until they just stayed that way. Myrrhtide fussed over each bit of dead water as if it was his child.
We crawled up the mountain’s shoulder except for halts at dead spots. I kept searching the ground for the fizzing rocks, for something to do. They were hard to find. The strength in those ones I touched was fading, without their source of power to renew them. I was getting bored to death.
“The whole world is hurrying by while we poke along,” I muttered when we stopped for the thousandth time.
Jayat shrugged. “We can only ride so fast. Here’s where the earth’s power swamped Tahar.” He pointed to the farmhouse that sat back from the road. “The farmer’s mother looks after him now.” He and Rosethorn went to the house to talk to the family.
Myrrhtide glared at me. “Magical investigation takes time. A proper student would be taking notes.”
I smiled at him. “I’m not Rosethorn’s student.”
“You think you don’t have to obey temple rules because you have her and Briar Moss and that rock for friends?” he asked me softly. He kept an eye on Rosethorn. “In two years you’ll be sixteen. It won’t matter then who your friends are. You’ll be out on your ear, Evumeimei. Out on the street where you belong.” He smiled cruelly. “Unless you take your vows to the temple. But you’d have to care about us—and that’s not a thing you can lie about.”
Something around my heart pinched me. “I’ll be on my way to magecraft, Dedicate Fusspot.” I said it with as much sass as I could, pretending I didn’t care. “I won’t need your precious temple then.”
“Spoken like a true guttersnipe.” He sounded pleased. “Take, take, take. Never give anything back. Why the temple keeps allowing the likes of you in—”
“Shut up.” I turned to face my horse. “Rosethorn’s coming, you stupid man.” I climbed back into the saddle, thinking, He’s just a nasty old fusspot. I don’t care what bile he spits.
“What were you talking about?” Rosethorn looked suspiciously at us. “You both looked very passionate about something.”
I dug a smile up from somewhere. “Midday. I’m always passionate about food, you know that. He wants to wait awhile, and I didn’t eat enough breakfast.”
She looked at Fusspot, who was getting back on his horse, then at me. She didn’t seem convinced. “Luvo, were they discussing the midday meal?”
“I was inattentive, Dedicate Rosethorn.” Luvo’s head knob was pointed toward the cliffs to the west. “My thoughts were on the fine-grained volcanic gabbro and quartz crystals higher on the mountain. Some of the crystals have a pleasing violet-pink color which I have never seen.”
Jayat looked awed. Rosethorn could tell something was not right, but she could never bring herself to call Luvo a liar. Not that he was lying. Luvo’s thinking is funny. It works like the rope of clear crystals that runs through his body. Each crystal is a little mind. Luvo has thoughts in all of them going on at once. He probably was thinking of gabbro and quartz, in part of him.
“Let’s move on.” Rosethorn mounted her horse. “Myrrhtide, you will ride beside me, if you please.”
Off we went. Luvo sat in front of me and didn’t move for a long time. Jayat rode ahead of Rosethorn and Myrrhtide, thinking about something. I tried to sit quietly, but it got harder as the morning wore on. I swear, even the sunlight made my blood itch to move faster. My flesh throbbed inside my skin.
Is this how Luvo feels when he watches us? I wondered. Birds and small creatures dashed past and around the trail, living their real lives at a real pace, not crawling along. Does Luvo feel as if life is passing him by? Or does he like being sllllloooowww?
I ground my teeth.
At yet another halt, Luvo looked at me. I don’t know how, because he didn’t have to turn his head to do it, but I felt his eyes on me. “You tremble. You give off heat. Are you ill?”
“Just restless. I feel fine,” I retorted. “I feel better than fine. I just want to ride, not trudge along like a snail. I’m not hot. I don’t feel the ground trembling one bit. I’m not trembling.”
But I looked at my hands on the reins. They shook, as if I had a fever. I didn’t feel sick.
I felt it then, far below the stone and earth under us. The little hairs on my arms stirred as I called the warning: “Shake coming!”