Ice Crown, Kay L. Moody [ap literature book list .txt] 📗

less than usual about her opinion. “And,” he said rounding on Wendy. “Mr. Cobble confirmed that training the day before a competition can weaken your muscles.”

Wendy stiffened before she shook her head firmly. “Only if you train too much. Surely, no training at all hurts more than it helps.”

Talise idly put the spoon to her lips as Wendy and Clayed jumped into a deep discussion on which was best. They both had compelling arguments that had been picked apart in detail over the last year by every student in the final year of the third stage.

Right now, Talise was more captivated by the young man who stared at the ground and ate alone. So quiet. If he had so little to say, he must have had mountains of things going on in his head.

What secrets did he hold?

 

SIX

 

 

 

WHEN TALISE FINISHED THE LAST OF HER noodle soup, she pushed the plate of grilled fish over to Wendy and Claye. “You two share this,” she said as she stood up.

She cleaned her soup dish at the washing station and watched Aaden as she worked. His neatly trimmed hair had been combed with precision. The black strands were so shiny, they gleamed in the sunlight. His clothes hung stiffer than hers, which could only mean his school uniform had recently been pressed.

He was definitely from the Crown then. Only someone from the inner circle of Kamdaria could afford such a luxury. She didn’t know whether to be awed or angry by how casually he broadcasted his privilege.

Instead, she focused on the one thing she knew for sure. He ate his entire lunch alone. Someone like that must have needed a friend. She tried to smile with the same warmth Marmie had taught her as she headed his way. He stood up even before she got to him, as if eager to avoid any interaction. Hopefully, he only wanted to avoid her because he was nervous.

“I’m Talise,” she said when she reached him.

Aaden gave her a short glance through the side of his eye. “I don’t care.”

She raised an eyebrow.

He began marching toward the washing station, and his body language didn’t invite her to join. But she did anyway. Her lips twitched at the corners while she tried to decide if she should be offended or humored by his brash words.

Not funny, she finally decided. But maybe he only pushed her away because he was nervous. Attempting a friendly smirk, she asked, “Is that how you greet everyone?”

“No,” he said with utterly no explanation at all.

They had reached the washing station now, and Aaden kept his eyes down as he scrubbed his dishes clean.

Everything in her told Talise to give up. This young man smelled like trouble and it wrinkled her nose even more than the grilled fish had. She wanted to walk away. She almost did when some of Aaden’s washing water splashed onto her. It didn’t seem like an accident.

But then she remembered Marmie and the Storm. She knew desperation when she saw it. It looked like anger when it was really fear. It looked like hatred when it was really sadness. One more time, she thought. I’ll try one more time to befriend him.

Talise shaped the splashed water out of her clothes and back into the washing bin. “What’s your primary?”

“Fire,” Aaden said, putting as much heat into the word as an actual flame. He dropped his clean dishes onto the pile and whirled around to face her. “Just like you.”

Such simple words. How did he make them sound like a threat?

Her lips parted as their eyes met. With his earlier words, he had pushed her away. Now, he practically begged her to respond. For once, she had no idea what to say.

How did he know her primary? What else did he know about her?

She opened her mouth to ask, but his eagerness for a response evaporated. He turned his back on her and said, “Leave me alone.”

He stalked off with his shoulders hunched forward and a fist forming in one hand. For a moment, she almost followed him. His anger only made her think he was really desperate. For something.

The only thing holding her in place were those words he spoke that felt like a threat. Just like you.

If he was so quick to threaten, maybe it was because he felt threatened by her. Maybe he wanted the title of Master Shaper. Talise had been the top of her class for so long, she couldn’t even remember what real competition felt like.

This, she thought. It feels like this.

 

* * * * *

 

TWO WEEKS LATER, Talise rummaged through the books in the library. All she needed was a book that classified the different wind types. If she could just understand where the different types of wind came from, it would be easier to shape air in the same way.

She almost rolled her eyes at the thought. Apparently, Mrs. Dew had been right about theory. It really did help with technique.

Biting her bottom lip, she opened another air book. She slammed it shut a moment later when it showed the same diagram the rest of the books showed. Air shaping must come from the lungs. She knew all that. It didn’t help her understand wind any better.

The golden spine of another book caught her eye. The title looked promising. Air Shaping Origins. Before she could grab it off the shelf, a clatter from a nearby aisle caught her attention. She peeked around the bookshelf, expecting to see one of the younger students. Instead she saw Aaden.

She’d avoided him since their brief conversation. Not that it had been that hard. Aaden stayed away from her and everyone else. She learned that Wendy had already tried to befriend him and had failed as miserably as she had.

Aaden crouched over a painting of Ridgerock Palace that was supposed to be hanging on the wall. He glanced around from one end of the room to the next. Without thinking, Talise hid herself behind the bookshelf and then peeked out again.

Thinking he was alone, Aaden bent over the painting and ran a finger over the cherry trees standing like sentinels at the main gate of the palace.

After studying the painting, he did the unthinkable and pulled the painting from its frame. The canvas stretched as he rolled it up tight. He then stuck it into the jacket of his uniform.

Talise’s mouth was still hanging open when he left the library. He didn’t even bow to the emperor’s portrait on his way out. Her brain was busy processing what he had done, but it didn’t stop her feet from following. She put enough distance between them to not seem suspicious, but her ears were hyper aware of each of his movements.

He left the instructional building and flew through the gardens to get to the training building. She almost lost him when he made two sharp turns in the halls of the training building, but she found him again a moment later. He had settled into an empty training room that was a little smaller than the others. It stood in the back corner of the building. That, combined with its small size, meant hardly anyone used it.

Aaden had shut the door when he entered, but Talise managed to push it open slightly without his notice. He was too busy propping the painting up on a desk.

He traced his fingers over the cherry trees again. The pink blossoms burst out of the branches like little clouds of delight. He stared at the painting for so long, Talise was ready to give up and just tell Mrs. Dew how he had stolen the painting from the library.

Just when she lifted her foot to walk, Aaden took a step away from the painting and a fire burst out of his palm. The fire burned in a column, but little by little, bits of the column drifted away, and a tree began to form.

Fire sculpture.

When the tree was formed, it grew larger until it burned as high as Aaden’s chin. Then, he stared at the tree like a mother coaxing her baby to eat. When his eyes narrowed, the branches of the trees seemed to shudder. He clenched his jaw and one branch seemed to grow small pustules.

As impressive as it was, that didn’t seem to be what Aaden wanted. The fire vanished as he dropped his hand away and let out a groan. He kicked the wall twice and then did it again, all the way down to the pustules.

It didn’t matter if he was doing what he wanted or not, fire sculptures were hard. His were detailed and looked as though they were alive. On his fourth try, one of the pustules popped open and a blossom appeared.

Talise gasped.

She couldn’t help it. She had no idea he was attempting something so complex.

Aaden’s tree vanished as he whirled around to face her. His lips were pressed to a thin line while a huff of air burst from his nose. He worked his jaw up and down as he shaped a fireball in each of his hands.

The balls flew toward her, and she leapt back with a yelp. One of the balls hit the cement wall, but the other hit the door right next to her arm. It was close enough that it burned her forearm.

Aaden glared at her as he formed two more fireballs in his hands. Not needing anymore encouragement, she ducked away and ran out of the building.

With the fresh air blowing on the burn, the stinging decreased. She went straight for the kitchen building, hoping to find some ice. Even with such a direct mission, she could barely focus on the burn.

Aaden’s trees.

They were incredible, she had to admit it. And to emulate the same trees that stood in front of the palace was a stroke of genius. It was sure to catch the emperor’s eye.

The reality settled into her, leaving her insides a writhing mess. Aaden had a chance of winning Master Shaper. Maybe a better chance than her. Who was she kidding, he had a way better chance than her.

Just like anyone from the Crown, he had everything he ever needed without even blinking. That’s why most people from the Crown didn’t care about becoming Master Shaper. They didn’t need it.

But when someone from the Crown wanted to become Master Shaper, they did. End of story. Aaden probably had a personal shaping tutor that had been teaching him for years.

Talise had spent the past ten years keeping her promise to Marmie, training hard with the intent to win. She’d been the best for so long, she stopped worrying about the competition years ago. Everyone knew she was going to win. And still she never stopped training as hard as she could.

Now, all that hard work fizzled out in just one afternoon. All along, there had been someone just as good as her at the other academy in the Crown.

If she was going to win the competition, she needed to up her game.

 

SEVEN

 

 

 

THE LAST PARAGRAPH OF HER LETTER TO Marmie seemed a little ridiculous. Truth laced every word, but that didn’t mean she should send it. But what else could she say? Talise read through it one last time.

He did fire sculptures like I’ve never seen before. Somehow, he managed to get little cherry blossoms to burst out of the fire branches. I’ll admit it, Marmie. I’m scared. I’ve tried so hard to win, but I think he’s better than me.