The Mountain Dancer

Chapter 32: Rekness & Faevock

The scariest part was when they threatened to take away his Crown Artyss appointment. That was certainly old Minyel’s recommendation. His dreams travelling to Brosse Island with Sila, moving down the fast track to the Crags, his third crystal… he was pretty sure a lot of that depended on his title.

They deliberated over his punishment, sometimes with him in the room, sometimes by themselves. They didn’t ask a lot of questions – it was mainly just the same one over and over again or said in a different way. Why? Why had he done it? Was he foolish, stupid, arrogant, all three? Didn’t he know that flashstepping was for emergencies only? What was the emergency?

He stuck to the same story: he didn’t think anyone would care if he did it so late, and he was very tired from the fitful sleep in the library. It wasn’t even a lie... just not the whole truth. He didn’t think they’d believe him about the book, and he certainly wasn’t going to say anything about being scared of the stupid library.

He was even put before one of the Stateguards for questioning. That was a strange experience. The big Roythan solider talked mostly about punishments, duty to one’s aspect, blah blah. He barely even asked any questions.

While they debated, they had taken away all his mindtethering privileges, allowing him only limited access so he could still practice Artwork. In a way, he didn’t mind. It took his thoughts away from what would happen to him if they decided to ban him from the Dance. And at night, if he concentrated, he could bring back that strange tingle in his arm. Soon, it was a full itch. He could feel some kind of Artwork in it.

By the time a week had passed and they finally made a decision, he had upgraded the feeling from an itch to something that felt more like a tug.

He felt like he accomplished something. Plus, his punishment turned out to be no big deal at all. They were pissed at him, but his story must have been convincing enough because they said that in the end no harm was done. He would be missing the Frostcycle Feast though, since the rest of the pupils couldn’t think that he got off easy. Also regular detention with Tutor Stoneworth for the rest of the year. But: he was still the Crown Artyss. And they’d be keeping an eye on him. Whatever.

He expected the shardtrade to blow up again the moment they let him back into the world, but it was a lot less crazy that he thought. There were a bunch of concerned messages, but nowhere near like the first time he had caused a disruption. It was strange. He sent a few shards up; he needed to talk to Shay about the book.

Affsol was waiting for him at the boreway landing as he made his way out of the Headmentor’s Chambers.

“He’s alive! Drown me ‘n Culdur, you’re-a so thin! What did they do t’ya on the inside man? They broke ya, didn’t they? I say, didn’t they?”

Rek looked down at his stomach. “I ate...” he said.

“Jokes, dude. Jokes. I see youra impenetrable wit survived the confinement, hey?”

“Yeah. It wasn’t so bad.”

They started down. “So– verdict? They sendin’ you to dig the Stone outta Taraband, or maybe havin’ to tend to old Minyel’s bath duty? Huh? They makin’ you take Shaytrak Rockstand to the Dance? Say it untrue friend! Say it untrue!”

Taraband, thought Rek. That reminded him of the girl in the stairwell. Which reminded him of the sail book. Which reminded him of the way his arm felt at night and what he saw on the roof. He needed to talk to Sila. Or Shay.

Affsol poked him.

“Ow, hey! Uh, what’d they say... detention for the rest of the year. Sorting books or whatever with Stoneworth. And no Frostcycle Feast for me. But I’m still Crown Artyss.”