Three more boom-stones exploded overhead. Tris flinched at each one; her hair began to rise and crackle. She tucked her hand into her pocket, and rubbed Aymery’s earring.
They had to distract Tris, before something else happened, thought Daja. “What if you tried your lightning on that?” She pointed to the heap of black powder that lay forgotten in the path.
Tris stared at it. “I - I don’t know,” she said, her voice trembling.
“Well?” Sandry nudged.
“What lightning?” Briar demanded, sarcastic. “She’s just got the worst case of Runog’s Fire I’ve ever seen, is all.”
Daja knew the pale fire that played on ship masts and tower roofs in storms as well as he did. “What she’s got is seed lightning,” she returned. “It’s not the same. Show him, Tris.” Another boom-stone exploded over the Hub. “I c-c-can’t,” Tris replied, shivering with fright. What did they want from her? Couldn’t they see that each explosion felt like a sharp blow to her? Her muscles were clenched, awaiting the next strike, and her neck and back were aching.
“Don’t you have to learn control?” Sandry asked. “No matter what else is going on? Maybe this is a good time to practise.”
Tris glared at the other three, hating them for bothering her. She just wanted to run inside and hide under a bed.
“Ahhh, I knew it,” Briar remarked scornfully. “It’s just Runog’s Fire.”
Furious, Tris pointed to the heap of powder a foot away. Lightning jumped from her finger. There was a clap: dirt and smoke sprayed everywhere, blackening them and turning the observing Little Bear grey. The dog yipped, and fled into Discipline. The four looked at each other, eyes wide in soot-streaked faces. There was now a hole in the path.
“You see?” Briar said at last. “You just have to know what to say to her.”
“You—” Tris snapped, and pointed at him without thinking what might result.
Briar grabbed her arms, hard, shaking her as lightning-sparks raced over his hands.
“Don’t you ever do that,” he whispered, his eyes burning into hers. “Don’t you ever. If your pointing is a weapon, then don’t you point ‘less you’re ready to kill with it. You understand, you witless bleater?” He was so frightened he didn’t know where his trembling ended and hers began. “Niko’s right.” He let her go and pushed her away from him. “We got to learn control, and you most of all.”
“I’m sorry.” Tris’s eyes were spilling over, but she made herself look Briar in the face.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t -I wouldn’t ever—”
Sandry put her arm around Tris’s shoulders. “We can’t just act without thinking any more, Tris. They’ve been trying to teach us that all along. I guess if we’re mages, we can’t exactly be kids, can we?” she asked the other two. They shook their heads. “Briar knows you would have been sorry after.”
“After I was a nice crispy roast just off the spit,” the boy said cruelly.
Tris hid her face in her hands.
“Enough,” Daja said. “She got the point. Don’t bully her.”
I’m a scared bully, thought Briar, stuffing his hands into his pockets. And I want to be sure she’s scared, scared enough to think next time.
Tris yanked out of Sandry’s hold and ran up to her room.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
stormandwind) wrote2019-09-29 12:57 am
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
lastvoyages
"If your pointing is a weapon, then don’t you point ‘less you’re ready to kill with it."
They had to distract Tris, before something else happened, thought Daja. “What if you tried your lightning on that?” She pointed to the heap of black powder that lay forgotten in the path.
Tris stared at it. “I - I don’t know,” she said, her voice trembling.
“Well?” Sandry nudged.
“What lightning?” Briar demanded, sarcastic. “She’s just got the worst case of Runog’s Fire I’ve ever seen, is all.”
Daja knew the pale fire that played on ship masts and tower roofs in storms as well as he did. “What she’s got is seed lightning,” she returned. “It’s not the same. Show him, Tris.”
Another boom-stone exploded over the Hub. “I c-c-can’t,” Tris replied, shivering with fright. What did they want from her? Couldn’t they see that each explosion felt like a sharp blow to her? Her muscles were clenched, awaiting the next strike, and her neck and back were aching.
“Don’t you have to learn control?” Sandry asked. “No matter what else is going on?
Maybe this is a good time to practise.”
Tris glared at the other three, hating them for bothering her. She just wanted to run inside and hide under a bed.
“Ahhh, I knew it,” Briar remarked scornfully. “It’s just Runog’s Fire.”
Furious, Tris pointed to the heap of powder a foot away. Lightning jumped from her finger. There was a clap: dirt and smoke sprayed everywhere, blackening them and turning the observing Little Bear grey. The dog yipped, and fled into Discipline. The four looked at each other, eyes wide in soot-streaked faces. There was now a hole in the path.
“You see?” Briar said at last. “You just have to know what to say to her.”
“You—” Tris snapped, and pointed at him without thinking what might result.
Briar grabbed her arms, hard, shaking her as lightning-sparks raced over his hands.
“Don’t you ever do that,” he whispered, his eyes burning into hers. “Don’t you ever. If your pointing is a weapon, then don’t you point ‘less you’re ready to kill with it. You understand, you witless bleater?” He was so frightened he didn’t know where his trembling ended and hers began. “Niko’s right.” He let her go and pushed her away from him. “We got to learn control, and you most of all.”
“I’m sorry.” Tris’s eyes were spilling over, but she made herself look Briar in the face.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t -I wouldn’t ever—”
Sandry put her arm around Tris’s shoulders. “We can’t just act without thinking any more, Tris. They’ve been trying to teach us that all along. I guess if we’re mages, we can’t exactly be kids, can we?” she asked the other two. They shook their heads. “Briar knows you would have been sorry after.”
“After I was a nice crispy roast just off the spit,” the boy said cruelly.
Tris hid her face in her hands.
“Enough,” Daja said. “She got the point. Don’t bully her.”
I’m a scared bully, thought Briar, stuffing his hands into his pockets. And I want to be sure she’s scared, scared enough to think next time.
Tris yanked out of Sandry’s hold and ran up to her room.