Given Read online

  I love you, he tried to call after her.

  But he couldn’t.

  12

  Yenni paused with her charcoal-and-wood stick over the paper, gazing off into the sunrise through the little window above her desk. To say it had been an eventful few weeks would be like describing the ocean as vast. What should she include in her latest letter home?

  She refused to mention the dragon. He would only give her family cause for concern, and once she left Cresh she would never have to worry about him again. In the end she settled for writing about what she had learned so far, explaining the confusing Creshen magic as best she could, and soon it was time to get ready for her first class of the day.

  Today she was off to the only magical class she actually enjoyed: Basics of Runelore. At her first lesson the week prior she’d been relieved to see concepts she understood, and the professor had been delighted with her, excited to have a student from the Moonrise Isles.

  In fact, when she walked into the small classroom for her second lesson his face lit up at the sight of her.

  “Yenni Ajani! A pleasure to see you again.”

  He met her at the door and took her hands in his, his smile twinkling in his blue eyes. Yenni glanced around at the smattering of students seated at the wooden benches, wondering if they had received the same enthusiastic reception. Based on the interested looks she was getting, they hadn’t. She slid her hands from his.

  “Thank you, Professor Devon. I enjoy your class.”

  He cleared his throat and looked slightly embarrassed, perhaps realizing he was being a bit overzealous. But he had likely never met anyone Yirba before, and he was young as far as professors went—not more than a few years older than she was, surely, so she could forgive his zeal.

  “Take a seat and we’ll get started in just a few minutes,” he said.

  Yenni took stock of the small, windowless room. There were more Islanders than usual in her runelore class, but Creshens still made up the majority. She locked eyes with a friend she’d made in class last week, smiled, and sat beside her. She was a lighter-skinned Island girl with long, fat braids. She touched her palm to Yenni’s.

  “Hello, Diedre,” said Yenni.

  “Welcome back, mams,” she said and grinned. Island women in Cresh often called each other this word, mams.

  “Look at this,” she said. She showed Yenni her palm, where she had drawn a passable wind rune. She pulled on it, and blew a slight breeze in Yenni’s face.

  “Impressive,” said Yenni. “But Professor Devon hasn’t introduced the wind rune yet. Where did you learn that?”

  “Mams, I studyin’ runelore since second school. I had a book I used to hide away, an’ I would sneak and practice runes in the night.”

  Yenni frowned. “But why would you have to sneak?”

  She shook her head. “If meh folks only knew. They are good, loyal Byenists, Yenni Ajani. They would tear out their hair if they knew I was practicin’ ‘godless’ runelore. An’ probably my hair too.”

  “Godless? Runelore is the opposite of godless!” said Yenni. “It’s the ultimate communion with the Sha! What do you think the rune hymns are? They’re the language of the Sha made manifest!”

  Diedre put a hand on Yenni’s shoulder. “You don’t have to tell me,” she said. “I love rune hymns, they’re beautiful.”

  Just then Professor Devon called for their attention. “We’ll continue our work with the water rune today,” he said.

  With a brush and teaching paint, he drew the rune on a slate board at the front of the room as he sang the wordless water hymn. In truth, his voice was quite nice.

  “Like so,” he said when he was done. “If you have any questions or need another demonstration, come see me.”

  Yenni drew a quick water rune on the back of each of her hands to be a good sport. At least she was able to use Professor Devon’s paint instead of her own. It was serviceable, but if she was to describe it in cooking terms, she would have said his paint was somewhat bland. The scent wasn’t quite as robust as it should be, the consistency not quite as thick, the color lacking depth.

  She spent the rest of the time helping Diedre until Professor Devon called out to the class. “It seems a good number of you are having trouble infusing the runepaint, so try adding a word here and there to the hymns.”

  Yenni froze. Add words to the rune hymns? The hymns were too sacred to be contained by mere human words!

  Yenni stood up. “Professor!”

  She was suddenly aware of everyone’s eyes on her.

  “Yes?”

  “The rune hymns should be wordless,” she said firmly. “It is an insult to the Sha to try to contain their magic with our inadequate words.”

  He smiled sheepishly. “Ah yes, I’ve read that, but we Creshens are used to spells, you see, so it’s helpful to add a word or two . . .” He trailed off, likely at the dismay on her face. “You know what? You’re right. If we’re going to use runes, we should do it properly. Forget what I said, everyone.”

  The class continued, with the students doing their best to make water runes, but despite Professor Devon’s retraction, Yenni could swear she heard a whispered word here and there. She said a silent prayer to the Sha, begging them to forgive the ignorance of the Creshens. As the class went on, a few other Islanders sought out her help. The native Creshens kept their distance, however.

  When class was over and they gathered their things to leave, Devon called to her.

  “Yenni Ajani, could I have just a minute or two of your time?”

  “Oh, of course, Professor.”

  Diedre turned her back to Professor Devon and rolled her eyes before leaving. Guilt fluttered in Yenni’s chest as she made her way to the front of the room. She’d needed to speak up, but she liked Professor Devon. He’d been kind to her, and she worried that she’d made him look incompetent in front of his class, and that he would now be annoyed.

  But as she approached his podium he looked embarrassed. “I must confess myself mortified.” He laughed nervously. “I meant no offense. You know, I’ve always been drawn to runelore because of the rune hymns. They’re much more organic, closer to source than the unwieldy spells we Creshens use, en?”

  “That’s all right, Professor. Apology accepted,” said Yenni, relieved.

  “You were a great help in class today.”

  Yenni smiled. “I am happy to help, thank you.”

  “You know, I would love the chance to talk more intimately about the best practices and culture behind runelore. Feel free to stop by my office anytime, anytime at all.”

  “Oh! Then I will, thank you.”

  “Anytime!” he said again. “I look forward to seeing you, Yenni Ajani.”

  A jet of water slammed Yenni in the side and sent her sprawling to the mud, drenched and winded. She held her spear but her shield went flying and hit the mud with a slap.

  “Roll, Kayirba!” yelled Captain Augustin. “You’d be on fire if this was a real battle. You should be working Yoben’s Rainfall!”

  She gritted her teeth, gazed up at the blue sky, and ground out the spell. “Source-drawn rain here come and fall.”

  A spattering of raindrops sparkled in the sunlight above her and fell on her body and face, barely wetting her further.

  “That wouldn’t put out a candle, Kayirba,” said Captain Augustin, and he moved into Yenni’s field of vision. “You may be good with a spear, but you need to work on your spellcraft, en?”

  He held out a hand and helped Yenni to her feet. “Did you get a tutor?” he asked under his breath.

  “Yes, I did,” Yenni replied.

  “Good. First quarter exams are coming up. You don’t need to make Magus, but you need to at least pass all your magic classes, or Mainard will send you packing.”

  “Yes, Captain,” said Yenni, her stomach sinki
ng. She slunk back with the others to watch the next student face off against Zui, who volunteered as a sparring partner for the Defensive Strategies for Dragon Combat class. Since she spit water, it made practice marginally less dangerous. As Yenni retreated, Zui gave her an apologetic bow, and though Zui had just given her a thrashing, Yenni couldn’t help marveling at how stunning she was, with her silvery-blue scales glinting like steel in the sun.

  For the hundredth time Yenni wondered at the needless complexity of Creshen magic. Who had time to remember spells and theories in the heat of battle? If she’d been allowed to use runes she could have drawn down a torrent. Or she could have pulled on speed, and Zui’s jets wouldn’t even have touched her.

  But she had to admit that the young man after her fought Zui expertly—using some spell that seemed to give him short bursts of quickness, he weaved and blocked and evaded Zui’s jets and got past her defense, bringing the point of his spear to the soft spot under her chin.

  Captain Augustin nodded in approval. “Very nice, Moreau, but make sure to keep your shield up. You let it drop a few times.”

  And so class went on. When the hour was up, Yenni hung back and waited for Zui.

  “Yenni Ajani!” she said once she’d changed forms. “Sorry about earlier.”

  Yenni waved a hand. “Never be sorry for defeating a foe,” she said. “I wanted to ask—if you have some time, could you help me with Yoben’s Rainfall?”

  “Sure! I have somewhere to be soon, but I have a few minutes. Now, this might sound strange, but it always helps me to imagine the smell of the rain.”

  “The smell of the rain?”

  “Exactly—the way the world around smells fresher, cleaner, after a rainfall. Do you know what I mean? Try it.”

  Yenni shook her head but she closed her eyes and tried to remember the way the jungles smelled during a rainfall, and the sound of the water pattering on the leaves. “Source-drawn rain here come and fall,” she said softly. A small shower started above their heads. Yenni looked at Zui and they both laughed.

  “Nice job!” Zui said. They tipped their faces up to the rain and let it wash some of the mud off until the shower dried up a minute later.

  “So, how are things with Weysh?” Zui asked cautiously. Yenni frowned. “Oh dear,” said Zui. “Well, I can’t say I blame you.”

  “I can’t stand how he treats me like his property,” Yenni fumed.

  Zui sighed. “Weysh is—his upbringing was difficult. I think he’s so eager because he thinks now that he’s found you he can erase the past. He can start a new, better family.”

  “That’s no excuse,” Yenni said.

  “No, it isn’t,” Zui agreed. “But it is an explanation. I know Weysh has a long way to go, but with time he could make you a wonderful Given, if he ever learns to get over himself.”

  Yenni crossed her arms. “I doubt that,” she said.

  Zui opened her mouth to speak again, but the bells of the tower pealed out.

  “Oh!” she cried. “I’ll be late!” She turned and ran. “Take care, Yenni Ajani!” she said over her shoulder as she waved, then she switched to dragon and took off, disappearing into the sky like a glittering ribbon.

  Yenni stood with her arms crossed, thoughtful. At least now she knew the reasoning behind Weysh’s obsessive behavior, but his issues were not her concern. Her most pressing task was to find help so that she could pass her classes. Carmenna had her own classes, and many other students to tutor, so she was available to Yenni only an hour or two a week. Zui was much the same, acting as assistant for too many classes to count. Was Weysh really her only option?

  Feel free to stop by my office anytime, Professor Devon had said. She started for the professors’ offices, hoping to find him between classes.

  When she arrived, Yenni wasn’t quite convinced that Professor Devon’s office wasn’t just a repurposed storage room of some kind. It had no windows and was just wide enough for his desk and the chair across from it. He sat behind that desk now, and for the life of her Yenni couldn’t figure out how he’d gotten there. Did he have to climb over it?

  “Good evening, Professor,” Yenni said.

  He looked up at her and beamed. “Yenni Ajani! I never dreamed I’d see you again so soon! Have a seat, have a—wait! What by Byen is that?!”

  He jumped up, eyes wide, and he pointed at her stomach.

  Yenni looked down at herself. “What? What is it?”

  “That rune,” he breathed. “I’ve never seen anything like that before.” He was referring to the Masters’ rune on her stomach. The shirt of the battle uniform covered only the top half of her midriff, and the rune was visible beneath it.

  “Lift up your shirt,” he said, gesturing as he gazed greedily at her stomach.

  Yenni jerked back. “Excuse me?”

  He met her eyes, and his mouth opened in horror. “Oh blessed Byen, did I just ask a woman to lift her shirt?” His whole face went alarmingly red. “A thousand apologies! I don’t know what’s come over me! Please forgive me.”

  “That’s all right,” she said, perhaps a bit sharper than she meant to.

  “But I’m making the worst impression,” said Devon, and he sighed. “Let’s start over. Would you be so kind as to explain the nature of that exquisite rune on your torso?”

  “It is a rune for protection,” Yenni said, even as Devon felt around his desk—his eyes never leaving her middle—for paper and something to write with. “It alerts me to threats against my life.”

  “Extraordinary,” he muttered as he wrote. “How so?”

  “Theoretically, if my life is threatened it will burn.”

  “Really,” he murmured, and looked up. “Theoretically? You’ve never used it?”

  “No. It was given to me for the first time by the Masters before I left my island.”

  “What is the hymn? Which strokes are drawn first? Is it native to the Yirba tribe?”

  “I don’t know,” Yenni said, slightly overwhelmed. “It took three Masters to draw it. Only they know the way to create it.”

  Devon hummed his disappointment. Looking sheepish, he made a lifting gesture with his hand. “Would you mind terribly . . .”

  “Not at all,” Yenni said. She lifted her shirt to the top of her stomach, exposing the rune. It was so nice to finally find people in Cresh who shared her enthusiasm for runelore. Besides, he would never be able to replicate it. Not without the rune hymn, the stroke order, and the sheer wisdom and instinct of the Masters.

  Professor Devon made a quick frantic sketch and told her she could lower her shirt.

  “Professor,” Yenni said, before he could ask any more questions. “I actually came to ask you about Creshen magic.”

  “En? Creshen magic?”

  “Yes, I’ve been struggling in my other classes. My spells don’t come out as strong as they should, or too strong, or sometimes not at all.”

  “Hmm, well that usually points to a lack of conviction when it comes to the rules and principles.”

  They spent a few minutes going over the spells that gave her the most trouble until he said, “Forgive me, but I have one more question about the protection rune. The paint is still quite vivid. I take it you haven’t had any threats to your life?”

  “No, none.”

  “Byen be praised. But if you did, would the rune fade or disappear entirely? How many attempts on your life would it take to use it up?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Ah, of course not. And with any luck you never will, en?”

  This led them on a tangent about runelore until Yenni steered the conversation back to Creshen magic. Professor Devon gave her a few more tips, nothing she hadn’t already heard, before he said again, “Just one more question: You said three Masters together created the rune. Did they sing together, or one after the other? Oh, and how
long is the hymn, longer than most?”

  Yenni answered his questions and they continued on, with Devon interrupting again and again to ask questions about runelore, until finally Yenni realized she would get very little help from him.

  She rose. “I’m sorry, Professor, but I have to be going.”

  “Oh, so soon?”

  She shuffled toward the exit, claiming she had some assignment to complete, then slipped out the door, escaping his office.

  “Come back anytime!” Devon called after her.

  In the weeks that followed, Yenni spent all her free time studying and practicing, gritting her teeth through frustration and futility. The evening before first quarter exams she met Zui and Harth in the library, though Weysh was nowhere in sight. She hadn’t seen him in over a moonturn, since his outburst when they’d studied together, and she was grateful. True, it would have been useful to have him as a tutor, but not at the price of his harassment.

  At the moment she was focusing her attention on Harth’s quill, a bird feather that the Creshens used to write, of all things.

  “Here to me by source compelled,” she said as she pulled ach’e. The quill wobbled, but didn’t move.

  “No, no,” said Harth. “Uhad’s Retrieving is There to me by source compelled. You’re mixing it up with Meyor’s Repulsion: Here from me by source repelled.”

  She looked at Harth helplessly.

  “She’s not getting this at all, en?” Harth said to Zui. “You know, when I was in first year, I remember there was a book that was great at giving tips for distinguishing the spells that are similar to each other. What was it . . . oho! Perry’s Spell Compass.”

  “I think you mean Perrone’s Incantation Compendium?” asked Zui.

  “No, no, I’m sure it was Perry’s Spell Compass. I’ll go find it.” He stood.

  “Then it was definitely Perrone’s Incantation Compendium. I’m going with you,” said Zui. The two of them disappeared into the stacks, arguing in whispers.

  Yenni would have laughed at them if she wasn’t so frazzled. Her exams were tomorrow. She needed to have simple spells like this mastered.