Tamora Pierce - First Test

‘Still determined to go to war with the training master, Nealan?’ enquired a soft, whispery voice behind Kel.

She whirled, startled, and found she was staring at an expanse of pearl-grey material, as nubbly as if it were a mass of tiny beads melted together. She stumbled back one step and then another. The pearl-grey expanse turned dark grey at the edges. Looking down, Kel saw long, slender legs ending in lengthy digits, each tipped with a silver claw.

She backed up yet another step and tilted her head most of the way back. The creature was fully seven feet tall, not counting the long tail it used to balance itself, and it was viewing her with fascination. Its large grey slit-pupilled eyes regarded her over a short, lipless muzzle.

Kel’s jaw dropped.

‘You’re staring, Mindelan,’ Neal said dryly.

‘As am I,’ the creature remarked in that ghostly voice. ‘Will you introduce us?’

‘Tkaa, this is Keladry of Mindelan,’ said Neal. ‘Kel, Tkaa is a basilisk. He’s also one of our instructors in the ways of the immortals.’

Kel had seen immortals other than the spidren on the riverbank, but she had never been this close to one. And it – he? – was to be one of her teachers?

‘We basilisks are travellers and gossips,’ Tkaa remarked, as if he had read her mind. ‘I earn my keep here by educating those who desire a more precise knowledge of those immortals who have chosen to settle in the Human Realms.’

‘Yes, sir,’ Kel said, breathless. She started to curtsy, remembered that a page bowed, and tried to do both. Neal braced her before she could topple over. Once she had regained her balance, the red-faced Kel bowed properly.

‘I am pleased to meet you, Keladry of Mindelan,’ the basilisk told her as if he hadn’t noticed her clumsiness. ‘I shall see you both the day after tomorrow.’ With a nod to Kel and to Neal, he walked out of the gallery, tail daintily raised.

Neal sighed. ‘We’d better get back to our rooms. Tomorrow’s a busy day.’ He led her back to her room, pointing out his own as they passed it. ‘We’ll meet in the mess hall in the morning,’ he told her.

Kel used the key as Salma had directed, and entered her room. Everything was in place, her bed freshly made up, curtains and draperies rehung. A faint scent of paint still drifted from the walls. ‘Gods of fire and ice, bless my new home,’ she whispered in Yamani. ‘Keep my will burning as hot as the heart of the volcano, and as hard and implacable as a glacier.’

A wave of homesickness suddenly caught her. She wished she could hear her mother’s low, soothing voice or listen to her father read from one of his books.

Emotion is weakness, Kel told herself, quoting her Yamani teachers. I must be as serene as a lake on a calm day. It was hard to control her feelings when so much was at stake and she was so far from home.

But control her feelings she would. If anyone here thought to run her off, they would find she was tougher than they expected. She was here to stay.

To prove it, she carefully unpacked each porcelain lucky cat and set it on her mantelpiece. Only when she had placed each of them just so did she scrub her face and put on her nightgown.

Climbing into bed, she took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She imagined a lake, its surface as smooth as glass. This is my heart, she thought. This is what I will strive to be.

The next morning Kel heard the chatter of birds. She crept over to her open window and peered outside. It was nearly dawn, with the barest touch of light colouring the sky. Before her was a small courtyard with a single bedraggled tree growing at its centre. On it perched house sparrows, drab in their russet brown and tan feathers, the males with stern black collars. Several birds pecked at the circle of earth around the tree. Kel watched them as the pearly air brightened. Poor things, she thought, they’re hungry.

In her clothespress she had stowed the last of the fruit-bread Mindelan’s cook had given her for the journey south. Kel retrieved it and broke it up into crumbs, then dumped it on the courtyard stones. She was watching the sparrows devour it when the first bell rang and someone rapped on her door. She opened it and said a cheerful good morning to the servant who stood there with a pitcher of hot water.

‘Good is as good does, Page Keladry,’ he said, his long face glum. He placed his burden on her desk. ‘I’m Gower. I’m to look after you.’ He began to sweep out the hearth as Kel took the water into her dressing room.

A new fire was laid when she returned to the main room, her face washed and her teeth clean. ‘If you’ve anything special you require, soap or cloths or such, tell me,’ Gower said sorrowfully. ‘Within reason, of course.’

Kel blinked at him. She’d never met anyone this gloomy. ‘Thank you, Gower,’ she replied, intimidated. ‘I don’t need anything just yet.’

‘Very good, miss,’ he said, then shook his head. ‘I mean, Page Keladry.’

She sighed with relief when he left, and hurried to dress.

Undiscouraged by Gower, she wished Neal a good morning when she found him in the mess hall. He looked at her through bleary eyes and mumbled, ‘There’s nothing good about it.’ Kel shook her head and ate breakfast in silence.

The day flew by. It began underground, where the palace stores were kept. A tailor took Kel’s measurements. Then his assistant dumped a load of garments into her arms. She got three sets of practice clothes, sturdy tan cotton and wool garments to be worn during the morning. She also received three changes of the pages’ formal uniform – red shirt and hose, gold tunic – to be worn in the afternoon and at royal gatherings. Shoes to match her formal gear were added; her family had supplied boots for riding and combat practice. Neal took the cloaks and coats she was given for cold weather.

Once she had stowed her things, Neal took her for another tour. They spent the morning inside, visiting the classrooms, libraries, indoor practice courts, and supply rooms like the pages’ armoury on the first level underground. After lunch, Neal took her to the outdoor practice courts and stables; the gardens, where she might wait on guests; and last of all, the royal menagerie. That night she dreamed the hooting calls of the howler monkeys from the Copper Isles and the chittering of brightly coloured finches.

The next day she woke not to the gaudy finches’ calls or the songs of Yamani birds, but to the friendly gossip of the courtyard sparrows. In hopes of seeing them again, she’d swiped a couple of rolls from the mess hall. Now she tore the rolls up and put the scraps outside the window for the birds.

As she finished, the bell rang. Gower rapped on her door as he’d done the day before, bringing hot water. Once he had cleaned the hearth and gone, Kel got dressed and ran to the mess hall. Her first day as a page had begun.

After breakfast, the pages flocked to one of the practice yards. Kel would take her first steps on the path to knighthood in these wood-fenced bare-earth rectangles and their adjoining equipment sheds. I’ll work hard, she promised herself. I’ll show everyone what girls can do.