Tris's Book

She looked up at the planks that hid the thatch over their heads. How well might the roof hold up, if struck by one of those things? Certainly not as well as the deck of the galley that had been struck by one that morning.

Shurri Fire-Sword, defend us, she thought, hurrying to her room. Trader and Bookkeeper, Trickster, I don't care who, keep those things off us!

"You took long enough," Briar said from the shadows by her window.

For a moment she was so frightened that she thought she would faint. Groping one-handed, she found her empty water-basin nearby - and threw it at him.

He ducked. The basin clanged to the floor.

"Tris?" Lark called tiredly from downstairs.

"Sorry!" she yelled.

Briar picked up the basin, examining it. "Now you have a dent."

"I ought to dent you," she hissed.

"You tried." White teeth flashed in the gloom. "You missed."

Tris gently placed her nestling - who hadn't so much as peeped when she threw the basin - on her desk. Finding her steel and flint, she lit a candle with hands that shook. "How did you sneak in here?" she demanded, still keeping her voice down.

He yawned, and pointed out the window. Tris understood. She had left this room sometimes by dropping on to pillows that were conveniently placed on the roof of Rosethorn's workshop, then jumping to the ground. If an ungainly thing like her could do that, someone like Briar could easily climb up. "Aren't you too tired for this?"

"What I had to tell you can't wait."

"I say it can. Get out."

"Listen, Coppercurls - your cousin's as wrong as they come. And don't throw anything else; the grown-ups need their rest."

For a moment her throat worked, but no sound came out. Air gushed around the room, making her wall-hanging flap. She wrapped her fingers around the nest to hold it still, and finally squeaked, "How dare you! How -"

His eyes met hers; the words dried to ash in her mouth. This was Briar. They had kept each other alive during the earthquake, and watched clouds get born together. She'd only just started to teach him to read, but she could tell already that he would love it as much as she did. He had kept her from falling off a wall only that morning.

"Please say you're joking," she whispered, and sat heavily on the bed.

Now that she had calmed down, he sat beside her, and told her what he'd found. "Where's he getting his money?" he asked when he was done. "You don't buy the things he's got on a student's allowance-"

"How would you know about student allowances?" she asked, trying to braid her unruly hair. The air was gusting again, plucking locks from her hands.

"I learned awful quick it's not worth the trouble to pick their pockets," he said. The hair on the back of his neck had started to prickle. There was more going on in here than just the wind picking up. "They hardly ever had two coppers to rub together - if they had anything, they spent it on books." When she made no comment, he went on, "From what you say about your family, they won't pay extra money to anyone, even their future mage, till after he's shown what he's good for. So where's he getting his money? And maybe he says he came to study for weeks, but he didn't pack like it."

"He could have left his other things in storage at the guesthouse." Tris spoke dully, trying to reject what he was saying. Her heart thudded. Her skin prickled, tingling. At that moment she hated Briar for telling her these things, for sounding so sure.

"I bet it was him that I saw on the Hub staircase, with the invisibility spell - but why was he there? I bet whatever blew up the stuff in the seeing-place, he put it there."

"You never saw a face. It could've been somebody else." Why hadn't he just gone straight to Niko, or Rosethorn? The tickling along her skin got hotter. Now she could feel her pulse banging in the veins of her neck.

"Why sneak into the kitchens?" Briar wanted to know.

"Don't tell me Gorse would notice everybody in that madhouse today."

"But Gorse does. He -" Briar yawned, looked out the window - and froze.

A thin, three-fingered branch of lightning felt its way along the window-ledge like a hand that searched for a place to grip. The scent of charred wood drifted on the air. They could see black streaks where the lightning touched the wood.

Briar seized Tris's arm. "Get hold of yourself!" he whispered.

Tris shook Briar off, and went to stand before the window. It wasn't really lightning, exactly - just a thread of it. She stretched out a hand.

"Don't!" Briar hissed, too frightened to move. "Tris -"

The gold, skeleton arm reached for the girl. Briefly its three fingers touched hers. Tris felt the brush of white-hot light, as if something she had only seen could be felt. Her curly hair began to rise.

The lightning folded in on itself, rolling out the window.

Briar put his head on his hands. "If I had a mother, I'd want her right now," he muttered. "Can't you do anything small?"

Tris brushed the fingers the lightning had touched against one cheek. They were warm, nothing more. "Do I want to?" she asked dreamily. The lightning had been so beautiful. It didn't hurt her feelings. It didn't tell lies. It was above everything ugly. People didn't matter to it.

She wished that people didn't matter to her. "Aymery isn't what you think."

"Neither are you," he muttered. "Look - I think we're safe tonight - Little Bear will let us know if Aymery gets to bumping around, and Skyfire is going to fog this place in. But come morning, we've got to tell. I think your wondrous cousin's working for the pirates." He padded out of the room.