The Will of the Empress - By Tamora Pierce Page 0,2
smile at her scatterbrained teacher. "Discipline cottage?" she asked, gently reminding him. "My foster-mother Lark? I live there when you're not dragging me everywhere between the Syth and the Pebbled Sea?"
Frostpine ran a big hand through his flyaway hair. "Daja, how old are you?"
She rolled her eyes. "Sixteen," she said even more patiently. "On the thirtieth of Seed Moon, the same day I mark for my birth every year."
"I should have thought of it sooner," he said mournfully. "But I swear, as I get older, the harder it gets to think. . . . Daja, Winding Circle has rules."
She waited, running a finger over the bright piece of brass that wrapped the palm and back of one hand. The metal was as warm and supple as living skin, a remnant of a forest fire, powerful magics, and Daja's ill-fated second Trader staff.
Frostpine said, "You probably know the rule already, at least for most of the temple boarding students. At sixteen, they must take vows, pay for their boarding and classes, or leave. And only those who have not attended temple school as children may attend as paying adults."
"Of course," Daja said. "There's a ceremony, and they give the residents of the dormitories papers to show they've studied at Winding Circle. But that's not for Sandry or Briar or Tris or me. We aren't temple students. We study with some temple dedicates, but not all of our teachers are temple. We live with Lark and Rosethorn at Discipline, not in the dormitories. And we're proper mages. We're — we're different."
Frostpine was shaking his head. "My dear, if you four still needed a firm education, we might be able to make a case, at least until you earned a medallion as the adult mages do," he said quietly. "But the fact is that you have your mage's medallion. As these things are measured, you were considered to be adult mages when you received them, fit to practice and to teach. Of course, you were too young to live on your own then. But now? Unless you are prepared to give your vows to the gods of the Living Circle, you will not be permitted to stay at Discipline."
Daja put her hand on the front of her tunic. Under it, hanging on a cord around her neck, was the gold medallion that proved that the wearer was a true mage, certified by Winding Circle to practice magic as an adult. She, Sandry, Tris, and Briar had agreed not to show it until they were eighteen unless they had to prove they were accredited mages. It was almost unheard-of for one thirteen-year-old to receive it, let alone four. Their teachers had been careful to let them know they had gotten it not only because they were as powerful and controlled as adults. Possession of a medallion also meant they had to answer to the laws and governing mages of Winding Circle and the university at Lightsbridge. "A leash," Briar had described it, "to prove to the law we won't run loose and pee on their bushes." Their teacher Niko had replied that his description was "crude, but accurate." Given that warning, and the fuss people made when they learned she had the medallion, Daja showed it as little as possible.
Frostpine bit his lip, then went on. "I can put you up over my forge for a week or two, but after that they'll make a fuss. You should be able to stay with Lark for a couple of nights, but she does have at least one new student living with her. Perhaps you could go to Sandry's?"
Daja was a smith, with intense bonds to fire, but for all that, she was normally slow to anger. Something in what he had said lit the tiniest of sparks. I don't know if he realizes it sounds like he wants me out of the way, she thought, heat tingling in her cheeks. Or like I can throw myself on my foster-sister's charity. Of course he didn't mean it to sound as if he wants me out of the way. Even if we have been living in each other's pockets for longer than we'd first expected to. We didn't intend to stay so long in Olart, or Capchen, or Anderran. We didn't plan to spend a whole extra year and a half away after Namorn.
"Daja?" Frostpine asked hesitantly.
I can't look at him, she thought. I don't want to cry. I feel all... lost. Funny.