He would apologise later. Finding Isse was all that mattered for now. This was the thought running through his head as he cruised through the air, hunting down the fox.

  Scouting the island at night was far more difficult than he’d imagined. For as far as he could see, there was nothing but a sea of grass. All the times he’d encountered the fox, she had been the one to look for him—and it always happened when he missed his sister the most.

  That resolution was simple: think about Isse. Miss her.

  How about the time she barged into his room asking for help with her homework? He’d told her he was busy. What had he been busy with? Video games. Stupid, pointless video games. There was that one time their dad took them on a camping trip in the forests of Islan. He’d had lots of fun with the other boys they met up there—lots of swimming and running, lots of bonfires and a trip into the cave. Had Isse been there? Or had she been crying because he’d left her behind?

  They’d been at the same school all their lives, and he couldn’t remember one meaningful moment together. All he had were horror slideshows of himself getting as far away from her as possible. She’d wanted nothing more than to meet his friend Jenne, and he’d put her off for as long as he could.

  He landed on a chunk of floating castle rock. Another passed by, and he jumped on that instead. He bounded from one to the next, taking light steps across the smaller chunks. More of them floated above. He needed to go higher, to get a better view.

  Strings of time—not controlled by him—latched around his arms. The mystery marker tugged on the X and Z chords, sending him flying down in a diagonal sprint. Hamis screamed, heading straight for those huge—kind of pretty—not the time—rocks! He latched his legs to other strings, halting his motion. His arms tugged, threatening to pull out of their sockets. Eventually, the marker controlling them gave up. Hamis sighed.

  Looking down, he found the culprit standing amid the boulders—not alone. A few faces belonging to the Hill Boys were present. They were spread out, some perching on the boulders, others leaning against the glowing white hexes on their sides. The marker who had tried to murder Hamis had a presence about him, something that added to the air of familiarity. Hamis lowered himself for a better look, confirming his suspicions.

  “You’re Dasu,” said Hamis, remembering the name of Asmalu’s son. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

  Dasu kept his arms folded, pushing his cheeks outward with his tongue. He was supposed to be the leader of the Hill Boys—the one who had allegedly punished Kade for his weakness.

  “I won’t take that from a stranger,” Dasu said. “Because that’s what you are.”

  Was Hamis in some kind of trouble? From his recollection, this was the first time they had ever spoken. It seemed Dasu was out looking for trouble. Hamis was not prepared to be the target. Yet he could not simply fly off—not if he ever hoped to remain friends with the Hill Boys.

  Showing eagerness would be a mistake in this situation. The best thing to do was remain calm and allow Dasu to get bored of him. Hamis controlled his breathing, kept his mouth shut, and examined his surroundings.

  “You’re a stranger, and you’ll always be a stranger until I say otherwise,” said Dasu, floating from one boulder to the other. Behind him stood a chair made of stone, with a back as high as a tall tree. What tools had they used to carve it?

  “Are you even listening to me?” said Dasu.

  “What?”

  Dasu tightened his taunt. He pointed his ringed finger at Hamis, held his tongue from saying a curse, and rubbed his face, thinking. “My boys told me they don’t let markers take the Stone Trial when they come of age in Henrikia.”

  “Nope,” said Hamis, shaking his head. “I hardly know what that is.”

  “That won’t do, stranger,” said Dasu. “You don’t walk the grass until you prove yourself. That is the way of the Grem. Do you accept this challenge?”

  The boys applauded, giving three cheers to Hamis. One by one, they hopped off the boulders, gathering in large groups.

  “I’m kind of in the middle of something,” said Hamis. “Can we do this tomorrow instead?”

  Dasu pretended as if he hadn’t heard and retreated to the stone throne. He sat in it, legs far apart, with a finger resting against his cheek. His command to the Hill Boys came without words. All at once, they formed a circle, taking a stance Hamis did not recognise.

  They threw out their palms and cast spells. A boulder nearby responded, escaping the flow of time. The large stone floated off the ground, rising a few centimetres into the air. It moved forward a few paces before breaking their field. It did not fall into the grass but sank deeper.

  Hamis leapt over at once, seeing what distance had not allowed him to see—a pit, and the boulder was falling into it. The deep, dark hole had no end. Try as he might, he could never hear the boulder fall.

  Without wasting time, the boys carried another of the large stones and dumped it into the pit. They did so with a third, and a fourth. Soon, some of them began to groan.

  “Is the army aware of this?” Hamis asked. “You’re not supposed to use your powers, you know?”

  “Dasu!” one of them yelled. “He’s telling the soldiers!”

  “No, I’m not!” yelled Hamis. “I just wanted—never mind. What is all this anyway? What do you want me to do?”

  They gave him no clue.

  After the seventh boulder, the stack became visible. Only a handful of them were lending their strength to the cause now. They were the older ones of the group—those who had expanded their limits and understood how to use the ascension in their blood economically.

  “Who taught you the signs you’re using?” Hamis asked. “Did you learn them from Eden?”

  “I taught them everything they know.” Dasu had appeared beside him. “We don’t need Henrikians to teach us.”

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.”

  “Empty the pit.”

  “What?”

  “This is how you beat the Stone Trial. Empty the pit by yourself.”

  There were ten boulders stacked on top of each other. The boys lay in the grass, panting, and there had been about twenty of them using their combined power to fill the pit in the first place.

  “This is insane. I can’t do this.”

  “Do it, or never walk the grass again.”

  The castle rocks drifted past, covering the moon and its light. Once the darkness had passed, Hamis placed his palms together. He slid his hands open, facing west and east. He froze for a long time, then set his field around the boulder, escaping it. The massive stone rumbled, refusing to be moved so easily out of the flow of time.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  It was his left hand facing the boulder, so he lowered his left knee, tilting his body downward. Ascension flowed into his left arm, and he built up the strings, escaping the boulder from gravity. It shot up into the air.

  The boys lounging in the grass raised their voices, spiking their energy as they ran for cover. Hamis knew what he was doing, though. He lowered his right knee and ascension flowed to his right hand. He sent his thick chords shooting into the air, and they snatched the boulder, returning it safely to land.

  His eyes burned. It felt like someone had tried to gouge them out with a spoon. This was hard—far harder than anything Firios had ever made him attempt.

  The first technique he’d used sucked and was far too risky. Hamis criss-crossed his fingers, except for the thumbs, which he placed side by side. The second boulder was slightly deeper than the first, requiring everything he had. Being careful meant staying here all night. If he wanted to do this quickly, he had to be ready to face certain risks.

  Hamis cast his spell and the boulder shot into the air. But this time it was in his control. It landed with a soft thud on the first, and those who stood at a safe distance rubbed their eyes. The third boulder shot out right after, stacking upon the first two.

  Dasu pocketed his hands, scoffing. He turned away, taking a seat on his throne. Hamis held his knees, closing his eyes to catch some much-needed refreshment. He was out of ascension. For the first time in his life, he knew what that felt like.

  There was no harm in stopping here and going home.

  Was this all he could do? What made him think he stood a chance of stopping what had happened to Isse?

  He picked himself up and approached the edge of the pit. The hex of markers glowed bright within, casting their light on the black soil walls. Hamis cast another spell; the fourth boulder dragged itself out of the pit. The strings of time snapped, sending it tumbling down. Hamis slapped his palms together, baring his teeth. He snatched at it again, tugging with his mind. His brain slammed against his skull. His gums peeled. Hamis grunted, digging his heels into the dirt. He twisted the strings, spinning the boulder out. It slammed into the stack, sending the column tumbling. The boys roared, now on their feet, applauding him to get another.

  The animal inside Hamis awoke. He grinned through bloodied teeth, unable to feel his legs anymore. He collapsed to his knees and crawled to the edge of the pit, peering inside. What happens when you take a certain number of stones from ten? The answer was a certain number of stones. Could he do it?

  As he lifted his arms to cast another spell, his skin tightened at the collarbone. A second attempt strained his upper arms. Something dark and nasty was spreading across his skin. Someone as learned as him understood exactly what was happening. These were the signs of debt. The symbols represented his debt to Geles, as he was using ascension that belonged to the goddess—one he would be able to repay if he stopped now and rested. The alternative was to keep borrowing and risk death. He chose the alternative.

  He slapped the ground, sending strings flying into the pit. They latched onto the fifth and sixth boulders, shooting them out with far more force than he’d used at the start. He repeated the trick for the seventh, watching through blurred vision as the dark markings spread around his hands.

  “What is an ascender’s most useful weapon?” he asked himself. “Their mind.” Their power was one born out of emotion. He missed his friends back home. He wished Jenne had said goodbye when he was leaving. For some reason, he missed Ashey too, and their stupid little fights that got him so angry.

  The eighth stone landed without his awareness. It could be nothing short of a miracle. Two more to go. The spreading had slowed because he’d used a part of his own power for the latest round.

  “Geles, just a tiny bit more. Don’t kill me, please, I’m begging you.” Hamis launched out the ninth stone, and black lines appeared in his vision. He could no longer see the strings of time as they were, only as blurry mists, melding into each other. This was it—the last stone. If he was to succeed, he would have to use his own power exclusively. It meant facing the truth that made his chest ache.

  He should have been the one to die.

  The last stone tumbled along the pit’s wall, thumping into the grass with a soft thud. As he knelt in the grass with his head covered, the cheers grew louder. Arms helped him to his feet. Just as one boy carried him on his shoulder, Dasu approached, and the chants ceased. He was set down again. This time, he stayed standing.

  “Well done,” Dasu said. “That was impressive. But you’re Henrikian. I can’t accept you.” He pushed Hamis, and down he went, free-falling—nothing but darkness surrounding him and the rush of wind on his face. He cracked his head on hard ground.

  The light above was a flicker. So many voices — threats, confusion. It felt so far away.

  “Get out of here, all of you!” Dasu shouted. The light above snuffed out, and in its place was a white triangle, growing larger, coming down.

  Hamis’ eyes widened. He raised his arms and covered his face. Strings of time criss-crossed above him, forming a desperate mesh to stop the boulder from crushing him. The boulder creaked and groaned as gravity pushed with all its might in a universe eager to correct itself.

  There was a thump. The strings strained more than ever. This could not be happening. A second boulder landed on the first. The strings snapped one after another.

  “This is for my friends!” someone cried.

  Thump.

  “My fathers!”

  Thump.

  “My mothers!”

  Hamis screamed — a cry for anyone to save him. All the strings snapped at once and the boulders slammed into his chest. But it was painless, as light as a feather’s touch. He panted, lying flat on the ground, rendered paralysed.

  A small gap appeared between his flesh and the stone. The gap widened little by little as the boulders reversed course. Hamis’ body began to rise out of the pit. Part of him believed he was dead. He could not move his neck to confirm whether his body still lay on the ground.

  Suspended above the open plains, he saw Dasu bound too — by thick vines tightening around his skin. Hamis peered into those bundles of primordial cords and made out flashes: images of a time gone past, when the Grem had been nothing more than a volcanic landscape, riven with lava. It was rare to see into the timelines that markers manipulate. There was only one person he trusted to harness ascension on this scale.

  Eden placed a hand on Hamis’ belly, then turned and walked on. The two boys, tethered to her, followed through the silent night. Dasu grunted, straining to break free; his mother made no effort to loosen his bonds.

  As they approached the palace, Eden finally spoke. “What were you thinking?” she asked. “You should not have left home at all. I had to pull him out of the sea. Do you know how hard it was to convince his grandmother that he was fine? You will do well to visit his household and apologise first thing in the morning.”

  What was this about? Olande — right. “I could’ve killed him,” realised Hamis.

  “And for what?” she asked.

  “He hurt Isse.”

  “Who?”

  “The fox. He made the fox vanish when I—“

  “That is not good enough,” she said after a long pause. Eden stopped and set them free. Dasu squared his shoulders, glaring at them both. “If I catch you near my son again, I will break your limbs and they will never be set right again.”

  Dasu parted ways, drowning in the grass. Eden did not take Hamis home. She urged him to follow her. With bones of butter and a twig for a spine, Hamis stumbled; Eden, being kind, took him by the arms and carried him on her back.

  Their walk was long through the grass, the stars and moon lighting their path. They passed houses and huts with families gathered round pots of brewing tea. Many approached Eden to ask what had happened out in the open. In most, boys ran home to hide under beds.

  She responded to a few, excusing herself to the rest. Their path brought them to an ascending, jagged rock that thrust from the island like a horn. The sea below smashed against the stones, sending splashes soaring high. On each side stood broken statues of unfamiliar gods; they resembled those in Gaveria, smaller in scale but just as imposing. At the precipice of the rock stood a massive Dande tree — a grey trunk with rounded branches bearing white leaves. Surrounding the base was a ring of ashes, whirled into a spiral by the rising sea winds.

  People of the Grem moved up and down the stone path, clutching clay pots to their chests. Those within reach of the Dande tree would bend to pour ashes from their pots, adding to the spiral.

  According to Hexism, the Dande tree was the tree of death. The priests taught that its roots went deep into the Dead World. He doubted Henrikians had brought this belief to the Grem; it was a conviction each people had arrived at for themselves.

  “Mariel exiled your grandfather to the Grem,” Eden said. “He will be coming along with Isse’s body.”

  Hamis nodded. He climbed down from his mother’s back once they were within touching distance of the tree, careful not to look at the jagged rocks below. His arms were still inked with warning marks — all the replenished ascension in his blood being spent to pay a debt to the goddess of time. If he fell from this height without Eden, he would most likely die. It wasn’t a welcome thought.

  Keeping his eyes on the Dande tree, he moved through the ashes and placed a hand on the trunk, closing his eyes. There was a warmth there that comforted him; the distant ache in his chest subsided.

  “We will spread your sister’s ashes beneath the tree,” Eden said.

  “Not all of it,” Hamis replied. Eden furrowed her brows. “Isse wanted nothing more than to see the Grem — the whole of it. I don’t want to spread her ashes beneath this tree alone. I want them under every tree on the Grem.”

  “There are four other islands, Hamis,” she said. “It is not worth the effort.”

  “It is. I have to.”

  “You don’t understand,” she said. “None of the chiefs would allow it unless they recognise you as their own. We will accept Asmalu’s generosity and move on.”

  He wasn’t going to do that.