The Grey Warden - Chapter 1

Power Levels

Mica

Amber

Pearl

Coral

Opal

Quartz

Emerald

Topaz

Ruby

Sapphire

Diamond

Chapter 1

Professor Laken stepped backward as he raised his arms and displayed the tattoos he pushed to his forearms. I turned on my stool, pulling my legs to the side to avoid contact. The old man paused and then drifted away, closer to the forty teenagers he lectured. He blocked my view of Mirrah, and I almost moved the stool to see her again but decided the risk didn’t justify the possible punishment. Plus that would look a little creepy if she noticed.

Dropping my legs back to the platform, I closed the book I’d been reading, using my finger as a bookmark. I did my best to stay silent. Professor Laken didn’t like distractions, especially from someone like me.

Reaching up to my left ear, I confirmed Thelt had abandoned his hiding spot. The tiny vermin spent so much time there I couldn’t tell when he’d left. I focused on my mental link with Thelt.

Where are you? I sent the question to him through our connection.

Here, Thelt responded.

I squeezed my eyes shut and bit the inside of my cheek until the urge to yell at the tiny lizard passed.

Where is here? I tried again.

By me.

That did it. I concentrated and pushed more of my mind across our bond until I could see what Thelt focused on. The lizard’s eyes had a diffracted wider view and it always gave me a headache, but when Thelt ventured out on his own, it meant only one thing, trouble.

From a perch in the rafters, Thelt studied the tables and cooks in the Ink Academy’s kitchen three buildings away. Before I could tell him to stop, he leaped into the air, tucked his wings, and shot toward the central table. My stomach dropped like I had fallen out of a tree, and I groaned as dizziness swamped me. Quickly I retreated to my own mind.

You’re making me sick, I said.

Sorry, Ry.

A loud clap startled me, and the closeness of it made my ears ring. My eyes snapped open to find Professor Laken towering above me. He wrinkled his nose and wiped his hands across his robe, like clapping this close to me made his hands dirty.

“Groan again, and you’ll pay a price for your insolence,” Laken said.

I waved my free hand. “It wasn’t your lecture. I just don’t feel well.”

Anger narrowed Laken’s brown eyes, but he paused, as if realizing something, and then glanced at the woman sitting in the front row.

I peeked at her as well. She looked old, not ancient like Professor Laken, but maybe as old as Mom. Her brown hair touched her shoulders, and she wore tan pants and a white vest. Her arms were bare, and the purple ink that covered them matched her eyes.

The Purple Kingdom had loaned one of their spirit weavers to the school to teach the other kingdoms some basic healing tattoos. The purple-eyed weavers were rare, but their tiny kingdom produced the ink the other four kingdoms depended on, so they were treated like royalty.

Professor Laken leaned toward me, his cheeks red, and hissed. “Don’t embarrass me. Do your job. Silently.”

He stared at me for a few more seconds and then turned back to the class.

I hated my job.

Everyone in the five kingdoms manipulated the ink in their skin. The liquid amplified their magic, and the teens in this class came from the best and strongest families in the kingdoms.

But I couldn’t. My eyes weren’t any of the five colors, and my skin wouldn’t absorb the magical ink that the teens in this room were covered in. My non-magical state repelled vachi, small flying lizard-like creatures attracted to the use of magic, and allowed the ink weavers to practice their power without getting swarmed.

Grey eyes like mine only had one choice for work. My magical handicap provided my only livelihood.

It’s probably because you stink, Thelt said.

It’s not my smell that repels vachi.

You should use your mom’s soap. She smells nice.

Lowering my head, I pinched my shirt and lifted it to my nose. I smelled fine. Thelt was the only vachi that would come near me. My parents, also Greys, didn’t bother the tiny lizard either. Sometimes I wished I did repel him.

I don’t stink! I said.

Thelt’s laughter vibrated across our connection.

I let go of my shirt and focused on the class. The teenagers stood clumped together by kingdom. For most of them, this would be the first class they had with another kingdom here at the Ink Academy.

My gaze found Mirrah, an air weaver with short dark hair, eyes the color of pine needles, and dusky skin tanned even a warmer brown by the harsh southern sun. Just below her left wrist, she had formed a block of text with her green ink.

Getting the most benefit from your ink had three variables, like the sides of a triangle. The first side, knowledge, was why the Ink Academy existed. Everyone hoped to gain admittance here and learn the most powerful tattoos the five Kingdoms had discovered.

The remaining two triangle sides involved the quantity of ink your body held, which determined your raw power, and your ability to manipulate that ink into complex patterns to concentrate and enhance that raw power.

I had never seen another student with better manipulation than Mirrah. And I’d seen a lot. Weaving ink into shapes proved difficult for most, into words, almost impossible. Mirrah was the only person I’d ever seen do it. Six short sentences, each on their own line, the color exactly matching her eyes.

The small thin words couldn’t be read from here, but I knew what they said. I’d seen it before, months ago. The lines were from a poem called the Scarecrow. I snapped my head back before she caught my stare.

Instead, I gazed up at the large window to my left and wished Professor Laken would let me sit there. I repelled the vachi no matter where in the room I sat, but Professor Laken preferred me behind him, out of sight.

I traced the joints on the stone floor with the toe of my worn leather boot. Brown-eyed earth weavers had constructed this building, their magic shaping the granite and leaving the stone smooth and polished.

Why the kitchen? I asked Thelt.

There’s a pot of blueberry sauce.

My mouth watered. Fresh fruit had become scarce since the Ghost Pirate had blocked the Capital’s harbor with his black-flagged ships.

It’s probably a trap, I said.

I never fall for those.

I shook my head. Thelt never listened, and there was nothing I could do right now. Once this class ended, I would be done working for the day, and I’d go find him.

Sunlight warmed the floor a few feet in front of me, and I wanted to move into it, but fear of Professor Laken kept me locked in place. I wished for the millionth time my eyes were any of the five colors. It didn’t matter which kingdom. But my eyes were grey, just like my future.

Applause from the class made me look up. The spirit weaver stood at the front of the class, her back to me, and Professor Laken had moved to my left, under the window. I leaned forward, eager to hear the lecture. I’d sat through all of the classes here at the Ink Academy a dozen times, but the spirit weavers rarely came to teach their tattoos. This would only be the second time I’d seen a demonstration of healing tattoos. Mom’s books didn’t count.

“You may address me as Sister Vy. I’m here—” Sister Vy stopped suddenly and pointed to her right. “Yes?”

My teeth clenched as I recognized Fant, standing with the other earth weavers, his left arm waving in the air. Brown ink almost covered both his white arms. Just one of those arms had more ink than the rest of the classroom combined.

“Where’s your pet?” Fant asked.

“Pet?” Sister Vy responded.

“When you Purples come to our estate, you usually have a pet.”

“Fant!” Professor Laken scolded.

Sister Vy raised her right arm, showing her palm to Professor Laken. “No, it’s okay. I understand the curiosity.”

“I don’t care about healing cuts,” Fant continued. “I want the tattoo to control a Pharhone.”

Of course Fant would want to control a bird the size of a wagon. They were rare, but I’d seen one in the Ranger Academy’s zoo.

Vy kept her face neutral. “First, they aren’t pets. Second, it would require a special person indeed to control something so large.”

Fant raised both his arms and weaved his ink into overlapping rectangles. It reminded me of a brick wall, and even though the pattern remained simple, I had to admit the control to form so many shapes impressed me. While Fant’s Manipulation didn’t compare to Mirrah’s, he more than made up for it with the sheer quantity of ink. He had the most raw power of any student at the Academy.

“I am special,” Fant said.

“I’m sure you are,” Vy responded. “The amount of ink a weaver Manipulates has little impact on their ability to form a bond. The amount of ink you possess, while impressive, would not help you.”

“Then how do I do it?” Fant asked.

“You can’t,” Sister Vy said.

Fant crossed his arms and raised his voice. “Listen, my dad—”

A low growl came from the wall to my right. The room instantly silenced, and the hairs on my arm stood. All the students stepped backward and away from the sound. A shape along the wall shimmered and moved.

“Peace, Yew,” Sister Vy said toward the wall.

A forest kag appeared, its hairless body rippling with tenseness as the camouflage faded from its skin. Its hind legs were bunched under its tail, and the large cat looked like it might pounce. It stared directly at Fant, who took another step backward. One of the water weavers yelped, and I relaxed, in case I needed to protect myself.

Fear and fascination fought a war in my stomach.

The purple brought a forest kag. It’s fifteen feet from me, I sent to Thelt.

The cat jerked its head toward me and stared.

They’re hard to see, Thelt said. Good thing they smell so bad, or they could sneak up on you.

I don’t smell anything.

The kag took a step toward me, and my throat clamped up.

Your nose is probably numb from your own smell? Thelt replied.

I ignored him.

Sister Vy made a motion with her hand, and the forest kag turned, ran at the earth weavers, and jumped into the air, hurtling over the group and out the door. The earth weavers all ducked, and Fant made a small scream. One of the fire weavers laughed but quickly smothered it when Fant shot him a glare.

Sister Vy turned and studied me for a few heartbeats, and my skin prickled. Had I done something wrong?