CHAPTER 33 – Sharp Recollections

The rain began again as they settled down to talk, drumming against the windows of Celaena’s sitting room in a cold, clear wash. Celaena mentioned she felt chilly — which prompted Laewyn to fuss over her, fetching a pair of thick slippers and a thicker blanket from the bedroom before heading off to make warm tea. Swaddled in the blanket, she shuffled over to the comfortable couch and sat in the middle, Faylar lounging against the arm to her left with the kind of irreverence that showed they were well-accustomed to each other’s company.

Iolas politely asked permission to seat himself on the nearby armchair, sinking into the cushions as Celaena nodded. Saphienne realised the only seat left was implicitly reserved for Laewyn, and fetched herself a pillow from the narrow windowsill, sitting upon it on the floor a little distance from Iolas.

Laewyn returned, floating tray in tow. Drinks were duly distributed, and Laewyn went to press the tray with the teapot down next to Saphienne — then reconsidered, bringing it over to hang in the air next to Faylar.

Saphienne folded her arms, and Celaena and Iolas’ quiet laughter at her broke the tension.

Perplexed, Faylar looked from her to the tray and back. “In-joke? What did I miss?”

“Experimental observation gone awry,” she said, then sipped her tea.

“Well, consider me intrigued.” Faylar gently nudged the tray, as though poking at her, but the nervous levity of the moment had passed, and he gave up his jesting.

Laewyn took the last place on the couch, and curled close to Celaena, hesitating before she placed a hand on her arm. Her girlfriend – though not yet acknowledged so – flinched slightly, but weariness swiftly made Celaena abandon self-imposed decorum, leaning on her shoulder for moral support.

Everyone waited for Celaena to speak, listening to the rain.

“We need to set some rules,” she finally said.

“I agree.” Iolas sat forward, gesturing to the couch with his cup. “Celaena, Saphienne, and I: we could all lose our apprenticeships. We’re not allowed to talk about our lessons.”

Laewyn still found it hard to accept. “Why?”

Saphienne spoke up as Iolas hesitated. “Answering that question involves explaining more about the lessons. I agree with you — it’s ridiculous. I’m not convinced the point is a good one. But,” she sighed, “working under the assumption that Faylar really would benefit from not knowing too much in advance…”

Faylar nodded. “I get it. It’s like that meditation test — with the illusory fire?”

Saphienne froze.

Seeing her reaction, he laughed, and took a deep sip of his tea. “You and Filaurel were both so focused on celebrating your success that you didn’t realise what you were sharing.” His smile waned. “You know, I wondered if that meant you didn’t really believe in me… but later on you refused to answer my questions, so I figured you were so excited that you just fucked up.”

“I didn’t know it was a secret, not until Filaurel told me. Sorry,” she said, feeling guilty. “Filaurel said it’s harder if you’re expecting it…”

“Guess I’ll find out.” He played it off with a shrug, drank more tea. “But the point’s pretty obvious. Some of the lessons are meant to be surprises.” He eyed Celaena, then Iolas. “Tell me I’m wrong?”

Neither risked answering.

“Thought so.” He leant back, satisfied. “Just talk around it, and Laewyn and I will pretend really hard that we’re too slow to fill in the blanks. Right, Laewyn?”

“I’m just a simple apprentice baker,” she agreed. She locked eyes with Saphienne, smiling playfully. “And with all the wine I drink, I’ll probably forget what little I understand.”

Saphienne snorted, and smiled back.

Faylar raised an eyebrow. “Really? Have you been leading my best friend astray? Poor Celaena is too–”

He was cut off by Celaena sharply elbowing him just below his ribs, and he laughed as he caught his breath. No one else laughed with him.

Iolas studied the contents of his cup. “I suppose we can try,” he said. “But if we’re going to risk this, then… Saphienne, you’re the one who told–”

“I’ll be the one to share,” she agreed, having already prepared to speak. “I don’t think we need to share much. We were studying the discipline of Invocation; Celaena was possessed by a spirit of the woodlands; the spirit left her with knowledge of the discipline that she had never been taught.” She stared up at Celaena. “That enough context?”

“Yes.” Celaena was very uncomfortable, so much so that she was faintly trembling as she warned Laewyn. “But, if father ever hears that–”

“I won’t.” Laewyn stared deeply into her eyes. “I promise. No matter what. Even if we don’t…”

Faylar broke their awkward silence. “Well, I’m not going to say a word. For all I know, learning too much in advance might bar me from studying to be a wizard. Better safe than sorry.”

Celaena stared up at the ceiling. “Then… I…”

Saphienne leant forward.

“…I’ll share what happened.”

* * *

Here, I will repeat what Celaena told her friends, in her own words.

* * *

When the spirit took my hand, I felt her presence. I don’t mean her touch, or her standing there… it was like she was close. Like she was right behind me, looking over my shoulder? But she was most present where our hands touched, and I could feel her flowing into my fingers, like beating waves… or a heartbeat.

Then she was suddenly everywhere, and… it was like the world fell away.

I was… I don’t know how to explain it. I was drowning in flowers. There was cold, too, like ice water dripping from their petals. They– they were winding around me, smothering me, burrowing into me.

But none of this was actually happening. I could still feel everything else, beneath. I could still see you, Saphienne, right up until my eyes closed — and I could still hear you.

Then the spirit… she was among my thoughts. I don’t know how else to say it. It wasn’t like a voice in my head. It was like… you know that sense of things, behind words? You see something, and you’re aware of it and know what it is, even without forming the words for it? The moment before thinking. You know, but you haven’t yet said. She was there, in that place.

Except, it wasn’t… she didn’t intrude. Or, well, she did — but it was like she was always there, like she and I had always been part of each other. Where my mind ended and hers began, I couldn’t tell. When I thought, it came from both of us. When she thought, it came from both of us. But we were different, distinct.

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And she–

…She was stronger than me.

You two know what happened. I was there, for all of it. Thoughts occurred to me, but they weren’t mine. I said things, but they weren’t my words. When I moved, it was like breathing — unintentional. I could see, hear, feel… and everything was more vivid. Colours were brighter, sounds louder. I couldn’t– I couldn’t shut it out–

…I’m fine.

Throughout, I was in the flowers. And she was speaking to me. She didn’t need thoughts to do it: I just understood what she meant. Like she had already said what she was going to say, and the meaning had already settled into my head. I think I spoke to her the same way, because I don’t remember exchanging words with her, but we talked.

She told me it was temporary. That I had accepted her offer without reservation, and there was no backing out. I was– I was her shell, until she was done with me. Maybe minutes, or hours… or days… or months, even years…

I said I’m fine.

…But I was panicking. And she was only– she was amused. I could feel what she felt. And she knew what I knew. She searched through my memories, things I’d learned and experiences I’d been through, and I remembered everything along with her.

When she was speaking to you, she was using me. I don’t mean using my voice, or at least, not just my voice. She was using my knowledge — she only knew a few words of Elfish on her own. But what she did with what I knew…

Have you ever seen someone good with cards? It was like that. Everything I knew was like a deck of cards to her, and she could deal them, shuffle them, flick through them. Father only explained archaic Elfish to me once, but she drew the card easily — and knew it would be too difficult for both of you to understand, unless she toned it down. And the thing that… the thing that scared me was this feeling, this…

…She’d never done it before. Really, I think she hadn’t.

Because… because she was joyful. She was playing. She was delighting in doing it, like she was dancing for the first time.

…Well.