Cinn's Arc

Chapter 9 of 12

The light stayed close. In Sky's fort, every time Cinn read the glowing bird, Luminance leaned in to feel it. It knew her thoughts the moment she had them. When she wondered if she could trick it, it dimmed and said, "You can't." The binding ran one way. Cinn opened to Luminance, but Luminance never opened to her. She needed a wall. She had none. She left the fort at dawn. Cyf walked with her, and Sky followed with a roll of her records under one arm. They found the old tree alone in the clearing, its canopy lit from inside, blue threads running down the bark. Cinn had practiced hard readings here before. She sat in its roots now and emptied her bag. Bones. Beads. Charms. "I keep nothing from it," she said. "I need to hide my own mind." "A shield blocks you out," Cyf said. He paused inside the thought. "The shaman had one. You couldn't read him at all." He looked at the bones. "Make one for yourself." Sky knelt beside her. "You can't buy a shield. You build it." She touched a charm on Cinn's wrist. "Put yourself in it. Something only you own." Cinn understood. A shield had to be made of her. She lifted one green dreadlock and cut it free with a bone edge. Her hands shook. She braided it tight, working in crystals and small charms. From her star-shaman book she whispered a focus spell into each turn of the braid. The bird watched, its feathers steady. Luminance drifted at the clearing's edge, reading her as she worked. "What are you making," Luminance said. Flat. For once it did not already know. Cinn did not answer. She tied the braided band around her wrist and spoke the last of the spell. She thought of a wall of stone. She thought of the market, the elder's grip, every secret she had ever held. She pushed them behind the wall. The pressure behind her eyes went quiet. For two years she had read everything and hidden nothing. Now the inside of her head went dark, hers alone. Luminance surged forward. Its stars flared white. It reached for her thoughts and found a blank face of stone. "I can't feel you," it said. The light pulled back. "You're closed." "Yes," Cinn said. She was shaking, but she stood. The bond held. She was still its anchor. But now the door swung one way for her too. She could feel Luminance and keep her own mind shut. Cyf let out a slow breath. Sky nodded once, final. Then the light spoke again, quieter. "If you can hide from me," Luminance said, "you can hide from them. The elders will want to know how. A shaman who can't be read can't be trusted." Its stars dimmed. "You built a wall. Now they will ask what you keep behind it."