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Chapter 6 of
Radiance
by Lauren Stinton
[Click here to read chapter 1]
The Theranians stared at her.
Eventually the older man gestured to the younger, who stepped forward and bent down on one knee in front of Radiance.
“Hello, Radiance,” he said kindly. “My name is Kian. I’m a healer. May I touch your hand?”
For a moment Radiance didn’t know what to do. This almost sounded like a trick. Her entire life she’d been taught not to touch a Theranian because bad things would happen. Everyone knew that Theranians didn’t like outsiders to touch them.
But Kian the healer held out his hand and looked at her encouragingly. So she slowly reached toward him and, without any hesitation, he wrapped his large hand around her much smaller one.
She stopped breathing. Just in case people started yelling.
But no one did.
“Radiance,” the older Theranian said, “do you remember how your parents died?”
She knew a question like that one needed a long answer, but she didn’t have a long answer. All she knew was what her file said. “No, sir. But I do know they died in a boating accident. They drowned.”
“They drowned,” he repeated sharply.
She tried to pull back, but Kian didn’t release her hand. “Yes, sir. On Galen Lake.”
It was the largest body of water in King’s Barrow. They’d learned all about it at school, and she had asked dozens of questions about the people who lived there, and the huge forest that grew up around it, and why they liked to race boats at night. That was where her parents died—so she needed all the information she could find.
Mr. Liam continued, “There was a collision during a boat race. Multiple boats collided with a few residences.”
“Ah,” the older man said. He glanced at Kian. “So you and your family were living on a boathouse.”
“I don’t remember, sir. I don’t remember anything from back then.”
His eyes narrowed. “Nothing at all?”
“Nothing, sir.”
“But you knew your name. How did you know you were called Radiance if you had no connection with your parents?”
Mr. Liam said helpfully, “When she came to us, she was wearing a glass pendant with her name carefully etched inside it. A very elegant little thing that lasted for nearly three years—until she got angry one day and melted it right there in her hand.”
The Theranian grunted. He spoke the word quietly, as if still trying to convince himself it was true: “Flamemaker.”
In that same helpful tone, Mr. Liam said, “Her parents died in the Star Race Crash. Perhaps you’ve heard of it, sir? Two houseboats sank, and a fire started that spread across the bank into the nearby town. Very few flamemakers were available to put it out. As I’m sure you know, flamemakers rarely approach large bodies of water.” He nodded toward Radiance. “Save for this one.”
She straightened her back and held up her head.
“Fond of water, are you?” Kian asked and let go of her hand.
Radiance nodded and, seeing the expression on his face, decided to add, “Yesterday was the first time I saw the sea.”
“The very first time?” He was clearly shocked.
She continued eagerly, “Yes! It’s so big and the air smells so good, and the wind is almost cold, and it’s lovely.”
He laughed as he stood to his feet. “Almost cold, eh? Cold enough for the rest of us I think, for we are not flamemakers like you.”
“Who brought her to the school?” the first man asked Mr. Liam.
“A healer.”
The two Theranians frowned at him. It was almost like he’d called them names, and Mr. Liam didn’t seem to know what to do about this.
His shoulders lowered a bit, and this time he said more hesitantly, “I don’t remember the man’s name, but he filled out the paperwork and said she was perfectly healthy and someone would be by for her in a few days. He sounded quite confident about this—someone was coming for her—but no one did. He did not tell us she was Theranian. We had no idea of her heritage.”
No one said anything for a long time. Radiance tried to stand still. It was hard.
“Interesting,” the older man murmured finally. “Well then.”
He walked across the room to Radiance and crouched down so he could look her in the eyes. “A flamemaker who loves the sea. You, my dear, are a very special girl.”
His brows rose, and in the next moment he said words she remembered for the rest of her life. Sometimes she even dreamed of them. “We can show you the sea. Are you interested?”
Mr. Liam started making noises. “There’s paperwork. Interviews. The town council must approve any adoption—”
“This is not an adoption,” the general interrupted in his gruff voice. “This is what the healer said would happen. He must have known she was Theranian somehow, and he knew her countrymen would come for her. He simply misjudged the timing.” His voice deepened. “By law you cannot keep her, Mr. Liam. She’s Theranian. She needs to be raised by her people, in the ways of her people.”
The general kept talking, but Radiance didn’t listen to any of his words.
The older Theranian hadn’t moved. He was watching her expression, a slight smile on his lips. To Radiance, it was like his entire face said, “You are about to go on an adventure. Yes, it’s unexpected. Yes, it might be a little bit scary. But are you ready?”
Yes. She was ready.
She was a flamemaker. Fire burned in her blood, and she would always want the adventure. She had to have the freedom to move—to go places and touch things and do what her gift wanted to do. The fire was part of her. It was exactly what she was like.
Maybe this man understood. He was Theranian and they didn’t have any flamemakers, but there was a strange light in his eyes that made her think he knew something she did not. Something important. And he’d said he would show her the sea.
“What do you think?” he asked and smiled like he already knew her answer.
“I would like to be shown the sea, sir,” she said.
His smile widened. “Yes, I thought you might.”
Thank you for your interest in this book.
Look for Radiance on Amazon and through your local bookstore in the summer of 2020.
Comment below or click here to find us on Facebook. Copyright notice: © 2019 by Lauren Stinton. All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.