Shatterglass

Keth didnt argue. The truth was that Jumshidas house was pleasant and cool; Ferouzes place was hot and stuffy, and he would have been forced to buy his supper. He d got better at accepting free meals since hed left his wealthy familys house in Dancruan.

Nomasdina stopped him as he was about to walk out of the arurimat. about what I suggested, thats all I ask,the arurim dhaskoi said to both Keth and Tris. of those balls might turn the tables on this monster.

Long habit brought Tris and Niko downstairs the next morning shortly after dawn, despite their late bedtime. They ate breakfast in silence, the quiet broken only by noise made by the cook as she brought dishes and took them away. When her last plate had been removed, Tris sat with her head propped on her hand, while Niko had a second cup of tea.

All kinds of thoughts had been rolling through Triss mind. Many of them she preferred to keep to herself. It was the most recent one that bothered her.

re the only one who can teach him,he said instantly.

s not that,she said. know that!

Then?

s not going to like me telling him to do things, is he?she asked. or later hell forget the lightning and remember Im just fourteen.

Niko said wearily. Im not grumbling. Youre right. But Tris, teaching mages is different from teaching normal students in any event.He rubbed his temple with his free hand. Its a matter of persuasion, not orders . Even if a student accepts your command, his magic might not. You have to work around it. Every teacher fumbles a bit until he finds the right approach to each new student. Your task is just twice as hard because Keth is a grown man. Try to understand hi s feelings.

Tris nodded thoughtfully. It had occurred to her that she also had to find a way around his fear of her lightning before he could learn much. Niko had just confirmed her thinking. If Keth was to catch the Ghost, a cure for that fear should come sooner, rather than later.

With breakfast done, Tris took Little Bear into the courtyard and tethered him there with a meaty bone the cook had set aside. Then, with only Chime in a sling on her back as a companion, she set out for the heart of Heskalifos, following the maze of flagstone paths that covered the grounds. Except for the odd prathmun clearing away rubbish, the grounds were deserted. Even the clerks and teachers who worked here would not start their day until the third hour of the morning. That was fine with Tris. She didnt want any witnesses to what she was about to do.

Phakomathen, the Torch of Learning, was the pride of Heskalifos and of Tharios. Its tower rose from the east side of the Heskalifos Museum, soaring a hundred metres into the air . At its peak a figure of Asaia Bird-winged, the Living Circle goddess of learning, faced east, massive wings outstretched. In both hands she grasped a torch. Its flame was made of crystals that flashed in sun and moonlight, spelled against damage from win d and lightning. Six metres below the goddess a platform and guard rail were set. From the platform visitors who had survived the twelve-hundred-step climb could see all of Tharios. On their second day here, Jumshida had brought Niko and Tris up to view t he city that had thrown off the ancient Kurchal Empire and pursued its own glorious destiny.

Now Tris opened the doors at the base of the tower and walked inside. It was a point of pride for the university that they were never locked, so that stargazers, yo ung lovers, students and tourists could see the city in each of its moods, if they had the desire and the stamina for the climb. Tris remembered the climb. She had managed it, of course. Though she was plump, the legs beneath her sensible skirts and petti coats were hard with muscle. She just saw no reason why, after a long, dramatic night, she could not cheat.

Besides, she wanted to realize an ambition shed had since shed laid eyes on the hollow heart of that tall stone cylinder.

She thrust the doors shut with a breeze, and looped it to and fro around the latches. It would serve as a rope lock until Tris removed it. The doors secured, Tris sent a few more breezes out to explore the upper reaches. They returned to her carrying non-human sounds settling building, outside winds, birds who nested in the owl figures set over each of the staircase windows. There were.no humans in Phakomathen, no one to spy upon Tris.

She summoned all the winds and breezes within reach, calling them in through the windows of Pha komathen. Waiting for their arrival, she walked a large protective circle around the floor. She then called her magic not to form a cylinder or cocoon of protection, but a flat shield within the circle she had made, to protect the elegant, tiled floor.

She took down two of her wind braids and freed half of what they held, spinning around to show them how she needed them to flow. They had been with her a long time: they settled into the spin as neatly as her sister Sandry s favourite spindle. With her palms Tris thrust her winds low and flat until they shaped a whirling disc of air. When she judged it to be solid, she halted the disc and stepped on to it.

Now came the Tharian winds, pouring through the windows and down the inside of the tower like honey. Wh en they touched the floor, they slid under her disc. Tris gripped the first of them and twirled her finger. Like her own winds, these understood what she wanted. They began to spin, rapidly, under the disc of air where Tris stood.

Slowly, little by little, the column of twirling wind grew in height. Other breezes joined in, giving it strength, bulk, and speed. Steady on her disc of flattened air, Tris let the moving winds thrust her up through the hollow core of Phakomathen, passing the stairway by as she rode her tightly controlled cyclone. Higher and higher she went, until she reached the door to the outside platform, twelve hundred steps high. She tugged on her cyclone. It swayed, letting her step from her disc on to the landing.