Read Online Radiant: Towers Trilogy Book One by Karina Sumner-Smith - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Karina Sumner-Smith
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she thought, that finding food was so easy . Xhea didn’t want to know what Shai would say if she saw Xhea eat from the garbage—or worse.
Chewing, she looked at the chip in her hand. Finding someone else willing to transfer the magic was difficult, especially for anything less than half the renai. She flipped the chip over her fingers as she ran through the short list of individuals who had helped her with a transfer before, planning her next attempt. Idly, she unfocused her eyes, looking for the familiar glimmer of power beneath the plastic surface.
Not everyone could see raw magic, not spelled to be visible, but Xhea had been taught the trick of focusing her eyes just so , enabling her to see the energy even through solid objects. With practice, seeing lines of power had become almost second nature—not, of course, that she dared reveal the ability. Those able to see magic not of their own working, especially through plastic or flesh or stone, were the more powerful magic users: City folks, and high-powered ones at that. Even many of the strongest Lower City spell-casters lacked the talent. An ability to see spells would make most think her lack of magic a ruse, evidence to the contrary be blighted.
Yet as she stared at the chip, no curl of power lit her vision—not even a flicker. Dead, just like the food chits from Shai’s father. One customer stiffing her was possible—but two in the same day? For all that he disliked her, Brend wouldn’t cheat her; he needed her connection to his father, and the artifacts she brought, too much for that.
The dead chip in her hand said otherwise.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she muttered. So much for that plan—and so much for eating well the rest of the week. She was back to emergency rations.
Okay , she told herself. Forget how she’d get to the City for a moment—time to focus on where . She pulled the still-staring Shai from the crowd and down a narrow side street, then felt for the second tether. The length was as fine as before, but easier to find now that she knew it was there. She followed it with her fingers as far as she could reach, then stood, arm outstretched to follow the tether. Up , she thought. Up, up, and away .
She turned toward the patch of sky at which she pointed.
“Well,” she said to the ghost, staring southward, “I suppose that eliminates about half the City. Only a few hundred Towers left to go.”
Shai looked from Xhea’s pointing hand down to her own chest and back again. “You’re following the . . . line? The tether?”
“Yeah. Except the blighted thing is too fine to see, and too short to give me more than a general direction.”
“Could you use it to triangulate?”
Xhea blinked. “Could I use it to what?”
“Um . . . find the Tower by calculating the angles at known points along a line.” Shai’s hesitance made it almost sound like a question.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Xhea said. Except . . .
She frowned, considering, and waved the ghost to silence. If she traveled across the Lower City, and saw how the angle of the tether changed, perhaps she could hone in on the right Tower—or at least reduce the possible Towers to a more reasonable number.
“Hey Shai,” she said. “Can I interest you in a tour of the Lower City?”
Xhea hadn’t truly meant to give a tour—but something about the ghost’s attention, her shock and growing fascination with the Lower City’s decaying buildings and the people who sheltered within them, made Xhea’s familiar haunts feel new. What did Shai see, she wondered. Did she only notice the ruin and decay, the ever-present scents of rust and mildew and damp, cold earth? Did she see how little sunlight reached the Lower City, the Towers like umbrellas that offered not shelter but shadow, the few plants stunted and withering in that shade?
Or could she see the beauty in the stadium arena’s stained patchwork awnings as they underwent their spring repair?
Chewing, she looked at the chip in her hand. Finding someone else willing to transfer the magic was difficult, especially for anything less than half the renai. She flipped the chip over her fingers as she ran through the short list of individuals who had helped her with a transfer before, planning her next attempt. Idly, she unfocused her eyes, looking for the familiar glimmer of power beneath the plastic surface.
Not everyone could see raw magic, not spelled to be visible, but Xhea had been taught the trick of focusing her eyes just so , enabling her to see the energy even through solid objects. With practice, seeing lines of power had become almost second nature—not, of course, that she dared reveal the ability. Those able to see magic not of their own working, especially through plastic or flesh or stone, were the more powerful magic users: City folks, and high-powered ones at that. Even many of the strongest Lower City spell-casters lacked the talent. An ability to see spells would make most think her lack of magic a ruse, evidence to the contrary be blighted.
Yet as she stared at the chip, no curl of power lit her vision—not even a flicker. Dead, just like the food chits from Shai’s father. One customer stiffing her was possible—but two in the same day? For all that he disliked her, Brend wouldn’t cheat her; he needed her connection to his father, and the artifacts she brought, too much for that.
The dead chip in her hand said otherwise.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she muttered. So much for that plan—and so much for eating well the rest of the week. She was back to emergency rations.
Okay , she told herself. Forget how she’d get to the City for a moment—time to focus on where . She pulled the still-staring Shai from the crowd and down a narrow side street, then felt for the second tether. The length was as fine as before, but easier to find now that she knew it was there. She followed it with her fingers as far as she could reach, then stood, arm outstretched to follow the tether. Up , she thought. Up, up, and away .
She turned toward the patch of sky at which she pointed.
“Well,” she said to the ghost, staring southward, “I suppose that eliminates about half the City. Only a few hundred Towers left to go.”
Shai looked from Xhea’s pointing hand down to her own chest and back again. “You’re following the . . . line? The tether?”
“Yeah. Except the blighted thing is too fine to see, and too short to give me more than a general direction.”
“Could you use it to triangulate?”
Xhea blinked. “Could I use it to what?”
“Um . . . find the Tower by calculating the angles at known points along a line.” Shai’s hesitance made it almost sound like a question.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Xhea said. Except . . .
She frowned, considering, and waved the ghost to silence. If she traveled across the Lower City, and saw how the angle of the tether changed, perhaps she could hone in on the right Tower—or at least reduce the possible Towers to a more reasonable number.
“Hey Shai,” she said. “Can I interest you in a tour of the Lower City?”
Xhea hadn’t truly meant to give a tour—but something about the ghost’s attention, her shock and growing fascination with the Lower City’s decaying buildings and the people who sheltered within them, made Xhea’s familiar haunts feel new. What did Shai see, she wondered. Did she only notice the ruin and decay, the ever-present scents of rust and mildew and damp, cold earth? Did she see how little sunlight reached the Lower City, the Towers like umbrellas that offered not shelter but shadow, the few plants stunted and withering in that shade?
Or could she see the beauty in the stadium arena’s stained patchwork awnings as they underwent their spring repair?
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