Of Caverns and Casters ✓ [TLRQ #1]

Chapter 45 - Aster

The morning sunlight reflects bright off the snow and shines into the house. After yesterday's late-night casting, I woke later than I meant to, and as I eat breakfast, I keep catching myself worriedly glancing at the dining room door. As late as I got up, Leavi still hasn't come down. On top of that, the Book refuses to tell me what it told her, and I'm desperate to know if it revealed who I am. The only two of these books that exist belong to the Second Sons, and I've already given away too much of myself by my name and the vision. Everyone here seems illiterate enough about magic, though, not to have put it together yet.

I push the porridge around with my spoon. I can't wrap my mind around her thievery of my materials, especially as opposed to magic as she is. That was dangerous, and reckless, and poorly thought-out, and—

Leavi seemed more careful and logical than that to me. Then again, she did break a man she didn't know out of a prison.

I finish my breakfast and move to one of the couches around the living room fireplace. Zena squeals and skips over to me, her father not in sight. "Mister Aster, do another trick for me! Please?"

I smile at her. I'm tempted just to rest today, but I still need to practice, and the little cantrips she seems to enjoy shouldn't tire me out so much. She reminds me of the children I'd meet while sneaking out to the marketplace in N'veauvia. A few kind words, a small spell, and suddenly I'm their hero. They were easy to please and eager to love, and I couldn't help but comply with their innocent requests.

I finish a spell that throws a small shower of sparks into the air. Just like after every spell, Zena gasps and claps. Then her eyes widen further, looking behind me, and she exclaims, "How did you do that?"

I turn, shocked. In the middle of the room, blue sparks shower in a spiral, then fizzle out. Through them steps a blonde girl about my age, and the portal fades out. Her many tiny braids swing as she looks back and forth, taking in the room. Twisted into her hair is a collection of feathers, beads, and small bones. Her short dress is made of unremarkable cloth, but strips of dyed leather, horsehair, and stones are knotted into it. Bare feet peek out from under thick leggings. One hand, lighter than my own but darker than Leavi's, clutches a pearl, and the other holds a knapsack by her side.

I shoot to my feet, facing her. "You're a kra'kaa." Distrusting the notoriously unstable kind of caster, I step between her and Zena.

Her gaze lands on me, and she bobs into a curtsy, grin spreading across her face. "Why, yes I am! What gave it away?" She giggles at herself.

I'm sure she knows full well that her eccentric attire declares it. "Why are you here?" I demand.

"Didn't you poof her, Mister Aster?" Zena pipes up.

"No. I think she 'poofed' herself." My eyes don't stray from the stranger.

She dips her head in affirmative. "That would be correct! And, as for your question..." She hesitates, then spreads her arms wide. "Well, isn't this an interesting place!"

Before I can press her for a real answer, Marcí enters from the kitchen, carrying the cat. Seeing the kra'kaa, she startles. "Well, hello. I didn't hear the door."

The girl smiles, her eyes twinkling. "Hello. I'm sorry, but could you tell me where I'm at?"

"The Kuddly Kitten, of course. There is a sign outside." She eyes the kra'kaa's clothes. "Do you need something to change into, dear?"

"Maedame Marcí, she was just leaving."

The girl spins. "No, I'm not."

Marcí frowns. "Can you pay your way, miss?"

The kra'kaa's eyes are desperate, and I step toward her, a warning look on my face. She's going to be nothing but trouble; I can see it in her primitive clothes, in her darting gaze. She takes a half-step away from me and says, "I've got coin."

"Well..." Marcí pets the cat. "I have always said we don't turn people out. Especially in weather like this."

My lips twist. The girl throws me a smile, but fear twinkles beneath it. "Wonderful. I'm sure we'll all get along."

As Marcí sets the cat down, I mutter to the kra'kaa, "We wouldn't have to if you would just leave."

Something dark flashes in her eyes, but she forces a smile. "The lady said I could stay. I'd hate it if we couldn't become friends."

I step closer. "And if we can't?"

Leavi comes downstairs. "What's going on?"

The stranger looks at Leavi and smiles. "Hello." She steps forward to shake Leavi's hand. "I'm Idyne."

Leavi looks at her strangely. "You're limping."

Her eyes widen. "No. I just said I was Idyne. What's your name?"

"Leavi. Let me take a look at your leg." She starts to lead the girl over to the couch, but Idyne protests, stopping her. Only now do I notice the slight hitch in her steps.

"I'm fine. I'm fine," she insists, waving Leavi away. "I just need a room for the night, and I'll be on my way tomorrow." All the better.

"Tomorrow?" Marcí says. "No one's going anywhere any time soon. Haven't you seen the storm outside?"

All eyes turn to the window, where fine, icy flakes whip through the air. Everything past the porch is a white haze you could wander in for hours and never go anywhere. My spirits sink. Even once the storm stops, it'll be nearly impossible to travel through this without supplies.

"No matter if the storm slacks off tomorrow, you never know when another'll start up this time of year. And I won't have any one of you getting lost five feet from your campfire, frozen solid blue. No," Marcí says decidedly. "Everyone's staying warm and cozy right here."