Page 57 of Tempt

15

The Chamber’s celestial light bathes the corridors in green. Wonder tucks her legs beneath her as she stares at the countless book spines, taking solace in the foiled titles glistening across the shelves. Since childhood, they’ve been her source of strength, more than any weapon.

Who are you?

That’s a question she has always pondered. From her first memory, musing has been a beloved pastime. So who could have known how dangerous it would become?

She certainly hadn’t…

16

There’s a star that drifts in the sky. It wanders from constellation to constellation, exploring each celestial arrangement and pondering the shapes they make. It’s a curious little traveler, a nomadic firefly of light bathing in moonbeams and trailing comets.

This star changes its course often, overwhelmed by the possibilities. Unable to stay in a single place at a time, it muses from one planet to the next, from one astral attraction to the next. It wants to know, and it wants to ask, and it wants to see, and it wants to do.

Mostly, it longs to think. It yearns to wonder.

Unfortunately, it floats without paying attention to where it’s going. On one such occasion, an asteroid bumps into the star and knocks it back to the place where it began, right into its original position. Right back in its cradle.

It wiggles there, restless. That’s when the five members of the Fate Court identify it, able to discern its nature now that it finally stands still.

Although they should know better, thinks Harmony, the amused Guide of Wonder, who stands beside them. What other archeress would behave this way?

It can only beher.

The star’s future mentor smiles with pride and holds out an open palm. From the canopy of constellations, that celestial firefly sinks and settles into the Guide’s hand. It blinks with luminescence as if glancing around, as if it’s just found a new place to explore.

***

Sitting atop the hill, Wonder crosses her small limbs, her lap swaddled in a skirt woven from petals, an overflow of blonde pouring from the crown of her head and covering her hips. Because the marigold locks cascade around her, sometimes it’s difficult to skip across the grass while collecting flowers.

She cocks her head. At the glen’s base, fragments of a landmark peek out of the forest. From this vantage point, a series of towers merge with the beeches and willows.

“You’re not paying attention,” Harmony scolds affectionately, because this usually happens during morning meditation.

Wonder points to the building, because someday she will get a favorable answer, and she won’t stop until she does. “What’s in there?”

Her Guide pats Wonder’s knobby knee, tucked somewhere beneath all the tresses. “You’ll find out soon enough. Save your inquiries.”

“But what if I forget my questions?” she questions.

The deity laughs. “Then they weren’t that important, and you’ll have new ones. There is always something to ask.”

Wonder beams as if she’s been promised a confection. “And something to discover. And something to daydream about.”

Mirthful, the mentor wags a finger. “And plenty of time to do so later.”

Dutifully, Wonder closes her eyes and practices emptying her mind and breathing deeply, which lasts until the next breeze stirs her hair and a hyacinth stalk tickles her bare toes.

***

When she’s a little bit older, she earns her bow and quiver of arrows.

Her classmates have been anticipating this moment, but truthfully, Wonder has anticipated so many things, queried so many things, contemplated so many things, that she must have misplaced this excitement. She must have lost it somewhere between one rumination and another.

That’s why it takes Wonder longer than any of her peers to choose an element for her weapons. Love favors iron, swapping dirty looks with Anger when he makes the same choice. Envy chooses glass, and Sorrow chooses ice.

After much hemming and hawing, and fantasizing over the endless options, Wonder decides on quartz. She likes the shimmer, which reminds her of drifting stars. And when her Guide mentions that quartz is a healing element, well, there’s something precious about that.

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