Affinity.' Fyn's mind ran on ahead. Their mother would be devastated. She had already given up one child to the gods' service. 'No wonder you haven't told anyone.'
Piro nodded miserably. 'You saw them at the hearing yesterday. The law must be obeyed. If the warlords thought Rolencia's royal family believed themselves above the law, they'd revolt. Merofynia would attack. If I tell our parents they'll have to send me to the abbess. And I'd hate that, always doing the right thing, never saying what I really thought, shut away from summer, always serving winter. I couldn't live like that, Fyn.'
'You can't keep your Affinity hidden. It -'
'I have so far, from both the castle Affinity warders and from both the abbey mystics. I've been as close to them as I am to you right now. Can you feel anything now?'
He focused and tried to sense her again. She registered on his senses with an absence which was odd. 'No... at least. You don't feel neutral. The only reason they haven't noticed is because it takes effort to sense Affinity. I felt something before when I tested you and my Affinity's weak. You'll give yourself away somehow and there'll be a terrible reckoning.'
'But why would they suspect? I've already been tested. No one guessed mine was dormant then. Oh Fyn, it's so strange. Mine came on me suddenly and it's getting stronger. Things like the Fate have been calling me. They have a sort of hum that's just on the edge of hearing. Don't you sense it?'
Fyn shook his head. Piro was more of a mystic than him, yet he had been sent to the abbey, forced to give up family and position in the world. Where was the justice in that?
'Don't tell mother and father, Fyn,' Piro whispered. 'Please?'
'We must. It'll be worse if we hide it like Farmer Overhill. No one will believe our parents didn't know. Even father's old honour guard will be angry with him.' Exasperation and fondness fought for supremacy. 'Abbey life is not so bad, Piro.'
'That's not what you said last time we talked. At least now I can slip away and...' Her eyes widened in horror. 'Why, if I was sent to the abbey I'd have to give up my foenix -'
'Oh, Piro. You are such a baby!' He felt like shaking her.
She glared at him and opened her mouth to speak, then stopped.
They both heard the steady thumps of someone running through the snow.
'Please Fyn, promise not to tell?' Piro pleaded, glancing over her shoulder.
'All right, but only if you -'
She darted back into the nook under the statue, her white cloak blending with the shadowed snow.
Fyn spun around to see Feldspar enter the clearing. Desperate to hide Piro's presence, Fyn went around the statue to meet him.
'You found it!' Feldspar reached him, gaze drawn to the Fate in his hands. 'I confess I didn't think you had it in you. You must present it to the mystics master.'
And have his mind searched? Fyn shuddered. He could not hide anything from Master Catillum. He would betray Piro for sure. A solution came to him and he thrust the Fate towards Feldspar. 'You take it. I don't have enough Affinity to be a mystic.'
'Then how did you find it?'
'Lucky chance.'
'Not chance, fate!' Feldspar studied the spinning opal with obvious longing, but he made no move to touch it. 'I admit, I had hoped I'd be the one. But if not, then I'm glad it's you. Have you looked in it yet? The vision is your reward.'
Torn by conflicting emotions, Fyn stared into the opal's strange surface. As it spun on the end of the chain the spiral shell turned, glinting in the light: green, blue, the occasional flash of red. What was his Fate? What should he do?
Bright colours glimmered. A noble feast. A girl with tilted, liquid eyes and no eyebrows, a sweet-faced girl, whose expression was schooled to betray nothing, but underneath it he could sense her fear and a deep sadness.
Stranger still, he felt as if he knew her.
'Fyn?' Feldspar nudged him. 'What did you see?'
'A girl.'
Feldspar groaned. 'Some mystic you'll make. Monks are supposed to be celibate.'
Shame flared hot in Fyn. He shoved the pendant into his friend's hands. 'You're right. I'm a fraud. You take it.'
Feldspar had to take it or drop it. He held up the sacred Fate, staring into the opal's iridescent surface. 'I can't. I -'
'You found it, Feldspar? I always said you'd be mystics master