The Sword and The Mountain (Kathardra book 1)

It was close to sunrise when Lessa decided she could stomach going back to the manor. She and Storm had spent the night on a nearby mountain. Lessa was angry enough that she briefly considered not going back. At least for several days. That would make Zar sweat.

But no, she didn’t think a tit-for-tat would be wise. And more than angry, Lessa was hurt. How could she have such strong feelings for someone who clearly thought so little of her?

When Storm dipped back toward the manor she had no trouble finding it again. Lessa’s anger peaked once more. It was clear Zar had kept her grounded to be sure she had no outlet for her excess anger.

“Lessa, he’s still there,” Storm said when she saw Zar sitting on the bottom stair of the entrance steps.

“Great.”

Storm landed, careful to not knock Lessa loose because she wasn’t wearing her saddle. Lessa slid down her body and landed on the grass.

“Can we talk?” Zar was there the second she turned around.

“No.” She stalked past him and up the steps.

“Lessa, please?”

She ignored him and jogged up the staircase toward her room. The splinters that had been scattered were gone, but the dark line of burned carpet and marble where her firewall had been was a stark reminder of what happened.

When true morning broke Lessa woke to a repetitive clank on her door. Curiously she opened it. A silver tray floated through the door and rested itself on the small table in her room. Lessa smirked, this was likely the new arrangement because she had destroyed the dining room table.

The silver tray was laden with toast, eggs, and fruit.

Lessa finished her meal in sullen silence.

She wrapped herself in a blanket and stared out her small window. How long could she hide in here?

Not long. A knock rapped out a beat on her door. It sounded like Worran.

She opened the door just enough to peek out and see he was alone. There were questions and concern in his eyes.

Sighing, Lessa opened her door all the way and Worran followed her in the room.

Lessa folded herself into the chair she had just eaten breakfast in, sitting on one foot and propping the other up, with the blanket wrapped around her like a cocoon. Worran sat across from her. He folded his arms on the table and rested his chin on them. He stared up at her deliberating.

“What Worran?” she finally asked, the words rode a sigh from her lips.

“What you said last night. You have to know that Zar doesn’t just see you as a tool.”

She glared down at him with all the intensity she could muster.

“Hey, hey, hey.” He sat up and patted the air placatingly. “Don’t look at me like that.”

Lessa turned her head away, if only she could avoid this conversation so easily.

Worran’s fingers drummed the same beat on the table that he had knocked on the door. “Lessa,” he spoke very carefully. “I don’t think you realize, Zar has never given another girl so much as a hearth light.”

She looked at him with a brow raised.

“Uh, a mote of magic?”

She shook her head.

He rolled his eyes, “Look, ever since he’s been old enough for girls to flip their hair at, he’s never given any a second look.”

“Of course he hasn't. He’s only interested in the ones who he can use to save his kingdom,” her tone was more than sour.

He pressed his fingers to his temple and closed his eyes tightly. “No. Lessa. Ugh. What I’m trying to say is you are the only girl he has ever been so much as friends with. And yes he has to use you to save his kingdom.”

Lessa’s stomach twisted and she heated with ire.

“But, can’t you see what a precarious position that puts him in?”

She eyed him.

“Lessa. I’m correct in thinking you don’t know any Kathardrean history?”

Lessa’s head shook slightly.

“You don’t know, but Zar’s family has ruled Kathardra since it was founded. Until his grandfather lost it. His blood is tied to Kathardra. He will never, can never rest until he sits on the Mountain Seat. He was born to it.

“Now, imagine his surprise when the swordmaiden who is supposed to help him do it turns out to be a very close friend. Now he has to worry not only about his kingdom but also his friend. It might make a man a little desperate. A little more likely to do something stupid, like let an old mage make her Snap. Because unless she uses magic he is probably going to lose her and his kingdom.”

Lessa’s anger slackened.

“Did he send you to talk to me?”

Worran threw back his head and laughed. “If he knew I came to talk to you, I’d probably get another fist in my face.”

“Hey, how did that happen in the first place?”

Worran smiled mischievously. “I’ve been sworn to secrecy. But Zar hasn’t. Ask him.” His expression sobered. “Let him apologize, Lessa, he’s a mess… But then, it is amusing to see Zar so anxious. Maybe you should let him steep in it a little longer.”

Another knock came at Lessa’s door. This one was solid, measured but without a beat.

“That’s probably him now.” They both rose, Worran opened the door to reveal Zar. Lessa very nearly giggled at the sight of his hair sticking up at all different angles. He might have been struck by lightning for how chaotic it was.

“What are you doing here?” he demanded seeing Worran.

“Just here for a chat,” Worran said. He then slid around Zar, who refused to move even an inch to let Worran by.

As soon as Worran was out of sight Zar’s eyes fell on Lessa.

“Can I come in?” he finally asked.

She nodded and he stepped into the room, he gently closed the door behind him. His hand was white knuckle tight around the door handle and he rested his forehead against the door for just a moment.

In one movement Zar turned and grabbed Lessa in a tight hug. She was shocked at first, but wrapped in her blanket, wrapped in him, she couldn’t help melting. She even rested her head on his shoulder.

Lessa inhaled deeply, his scent filled her nose. It went straight to her head like a drug.

“Lessa.” He took her shoulders and held her at arm’s length. “You are not just a tool to me. I need you to understand that. You never have been. You mean so much to me. I’m sorry that you thought that for even one moment. You are my dearest friend.” He pulled her back into him, one arm around her shoulders and the other hand wound into her hair, pulling her head against him once more.

“I wish it wasn’t you. I wish someone else rode that dragon and carried that sword. It would make this all easier. I wouldn’t have to worry about you. And I’m sorry Lessa. I didn’t know what else to do. You were so determined that you couldn’t use magic that I was worried you wouldn’t even let yourself try. Cinder suggested that we make you Snap, and it seemed like the only option. I know now that I should have tried anything else first.”

“It’s okay. I- I get it, Zar… " she paused a beat before she continued. "And if it wasn’t me I never would have met you. Or flown on a dragon. Or learned to use a sword.”

“I suppose that’s true.”

He cleared his throat, released her, and stepped back, his hand rubbing the back of his neck as he looked away, clearly embarrassed at his rare display of emotion. “Cinder wants to see you. He said he has a ‘grasping’ exercise for you.”

“Oh joy.”

After dressing completely Lessa found Zar waiting for her in the hall. The expression on his face was still anxious, uncertain she had actually forgiven him.

He led her down the hall to a room that looked much like Lessa’s. But it was stripped of the bed, the table, chairs, and wardrobe. Instead, there was a single table shaped loosely like a horseshoe. And upon the table were hundreds of candles.

Cinder stood, happily bouncing on his toes, just to the side of the entrance to the horseshoe. Disgust and anger flooded Lessa once she caught sight of him.

“Alright Lessa, this will be your first lesson. It will allow you to grasp your magic as easily as you might lift your hand,” his tone was cheerful, nearly friendly. And he used her name…

“Allow me to demonstrate.” He picked up the candle nearest to him and he held his finger and thumb on each side of the wick like he was going to pinch it, but did not touch it. “Ilstayum.”

A small fire sprouted to life between his fingers. He smiled at her, drew a quick breath and huffed out the candle, then held it out for Lessa to take.

“Left hand, dear.”

She had reached with her right hand, but instead took it in her left.

“Your first spell. Quite a simple one. The candle must be held in the left hand, and the thumb and forefinger of the right must be on each side of the wick. Then you open your magic and speak the word, ilstayum.”

“What does that mean? I don’t understand it.”

“No, you wouldn’t. It is not Kathardrean. The language is called Malakgir. Most spells you learn will be in Malakgir.”

“Where did it come from, if it’s not Kathardrean?”

“Honestly, I don’t know. Some say it is the language of demons, others say it was given to us by the stars.” He shrugged.

“Now, reach for your magic, and then say the word just as I showed you.”

“Ill-stai-um?” The word felt strange on Lessa’s tongue.

“Ilstayum. You must get the pronunciation correct or the spell will not work.”

She said the word again, slurring through it as Cinder had. He nodded once she got it right.

“Now, the magic.”

After she took a deep breath Lessa started questing for the magic in her mind. She was able to easily find the wall, however, there was still no way through.

“It’s not working,” she said through gritted teeth.

“You must push through, as you did before, but not with anger.”

“I didn’t even have to try when I was angry.”

“Well, you must expend some effort now. But now you know what it feels like.” The grouchy tone she was used to hearing from Cinder crept back into his voice.

“Take your time, Lessa,” Zar said encouragingly.

She pursed her lips and sighed. Once again she positioned the fingers of her right hand around the wick of the candle, closed her eyes, and focused on the walled-off magic in her mind. Storm’s consciousness bumped into Lessa’s own, curious about what she was doing.

“You’re distracting me,”

“I am doing no such thing. You’re just blaming me because it is easier than taking responsibility for your own shortcomings.”

Lessa frowned and her eyes cracked open. Zar and Cinder were both watching her expectantly.

She very nearly told them they were distracting her, but thought better of it.

Lessa took the candle and sat in the middle of the horseshoe table, she once again assumed the position, with her fingers hovering around the wick. With her eyes closed Lessa reached for the wall hiding her magic.

There were no weaknesses in this wall. No cracks, no thin places, no short places. The only way was through.

She pushed with everything she had, directly into the granite wall. It didn’t give. Lessa redoubled her efforts, pushing as hard as she could, trying to bore a hole with pure force of will. Patience was something she lacked. But determination, she had in spades. Something like a chip appeared on the wall. A weak point. The modicum of success renewed Lessa’s resolve and she pounced, pushing as hard as she could until more weaknesses emerged.

Finally, Lessa broke through the wall, like a pipe bursting, energy flowed forth, flooding Lessa’s body with white-hot energy.

“Ilstayum,” she said and jumped a little when the flame popped into existence between her fingers.

“I did it!” she explained, jumping to her feet, but careful to not extinguish her little flame.

A grin spread across Zar’s face, mirroring Lessa’s own.

“And it only took you a quarter hour,” Cinder said flatly. “Now release your magic,”

Her smile faltered. She did not want to release the magic. Not after how long it took to access it. And it felt good to hold it open and ready in her body. Electricity was running through her veins, waiting for her to direct it. She felt like she was buzzing with power, it was burning inside of her, without pain. All Lessa needed was an outlet.

“Drop it, Lessa,” Cinder said once more.

Lessa frowned at him. “Why? It took me so long to access it…”

“That is the entire point of this exercise. You will light a candle, then you will release your magic. You will then access your magic once more and repeat the cycle. By the time you have lit the five hundredth candle you should no longer have a problem accessing your magic.”

Slightly crestfallen, Lessa let go of her magic. The power fled from her body like fire underwater.

Cinder pulled the next candle from the table and placed it in Lessa’s hand.

“Come to me when all the candles have been lit.” He left the room without a second glance.

Lessa chewed her lip and looked at Zar with her brows pulled together.

He smiled through a grimace.