Alanna The First Adventure - By Tamora Pierce Page 0,30

came between them. Even in her strange state Alanna was afraid. This must be the Dark God, the Master of all death.

It was crazy to argue with a god, but he was between her and her friend. “Excuse me,” she said politely. “But you can’t have him. Not yet. He’s going to come back with me.”

The shadowy hands reached for her. Alanna stood still, her mind sending up a shield of purple fire. “You can’t have him,” she said more firmly.

The shadow hands passed through her shield and held her by the shoulders. Alanna felt as if unseen eyes were looking her over. The great dark head nodded—and the shadow was gone. The Dark God had vanished.

Alanna reached out to Jonathan. Their hands clasped. “Come back,” she told her friend. “This place isn’t for us. Come home.”

Jonathan smiled. “I’m coming.” His voice was that of the man he would be one day, deep and even, calm and commanding. Did he hear a woman when she spoke? Did he think it was her? “I’m with you, my friend. Time to leave.”

Their gripped hands glowed white-hot, melting the shadows around them. Their combined Gifts burned away the walls of that unreal place. At the end of the well, drawing nearer and nearer, was the room they had left so long before. Slowly the violet fire ebbed from Alanna’s body. By the time they were in Jon’s bedchamber, her skin was filled with nothing but Alanna—much to her relief.

“Thank you,” the man in him said. He released her hand. She was Alan the page, sitting on the bed beside Prince Jonathan. His eyes were clear. He sighed and closed them. “It’s good to be back,” he whispered, and slept.

Swaying, Alanna stood. Myles finally dared to come close to her. He had watched the two boys burn with a steadily brighter purple light. He had heard a man’s voice and a woman’s voice coming from Jonathan and Alan. It was something he could never forget.

“Alan?”

She turned. “He’s all right,” she murmured, stumbling. “He’ll sleep—” Her bones ached. Her head throbbed, and she could barely stand. “Myles?” she gasped, and fell to the floor in a dead faint.

five

The Second Year

Because she slept for three days, Alanna avoided most of the questions about her part in Jonathan’s cure. When asked about it later, she gave all the credit to Sir Myles. Whenever the knight tried to discuss what had happened that night, Alanna always changed the subject. She knew Myles watched her, but she said nothing, knowing it would only bring the whole discussion up again.

Prince Jonathan also watched her. Yet he never spoke of that night. The less said about the whole thing, the happier Alanna felt. She wondered sometimes if Jonathan even remembered the place between Life and Death. It was possible that he didn’t—and he never brought the subject up.

The chilly winter turned at last into spring. Alanna unpacked her light clothing once again. She dressed one morning in a fever of excitement. It was the day the pages were to go on the long-promised trip to Port Caynn, and Alanna was barely able to hold still. Suddenly she froze before her long mirror. Watching the glass closely, she bounced up and down.

Her chest moved. It wasn’t much, but she had definitely jiggled. Over the winter her breasts had gotten larger.

“Coram!” she yelled, her eyes stinging with tears of fury.

The man stumbled into her chamber, bleary-eyed. “What is it now?” he said with a yawn.

Alanna stepped behind her dressing screen, tearing off her shirt. “Get to the healers, quick, and find some bandage for me—yards of it. Make any excuse you like, but get it!”

The puzzled Coram returned within minutes and shoved a bundle of white linen over the top of the screen. Alanna grabbed it and wrapped it tight around her chest.

“Ye’re turnin’ into a woman, aren’t ye?” he asked from the other side of the screen.

“No!” she exclaimed.

“Lass, it’s hardly somethin’ ye c’n change. Ye’re born with it—”

Alanna stepped from behind the screen. Her eyes were red and swollen. If she had been crying, Coram knew better than to mention it. “Maybe I was born that way, but I don’t have to put up with it!”

He looked at her with alarm. “Lass, ye’ve got to accept who ye are,” he protested. “Ye can be a woman and still be a warrior.”

“I hate it!” she yelled, losing her temper. “People will think I’m soft and silly!”

“Ye’re hardly soft,” he replied sharply. “And