The Fire Seer by Amy Raby Read Free Book Online Page B

it faced him. “You dictate, and I’ll write. Go.”
    Taya swallowed the lump in her throat, blinked back the tears in her eyes, and began to dictate. As Mandir’s hand flew across the tablet, her heart burned with jealousy for the unearned natural talent he possessed. She waited for his mockery. He knew her weakness now; it was only a matter of time before he used it to hurt her. But he only wrote, keeping his silence.
    Twenty minutes later, the work was done.

Chapter 8: Mohenjo Temple, Nine Years Ago
     
    Taya stepped into her first Coalition classroom with trepidation. She looked around for Mandir isu Sarrum, the only fellow first-year initiate who’d been remotely friendly. He’d also been a little bit mean, so she wasn’t sure he liked her. Her heart fluttered with hope and desire as she caught sight of him. He was so handsome and clever. Well above her station, she knew, but one could dream. Mandir was sitting with the three other ruling-caste boys. He saw her, and his expression changed just enough to indicate that he remembered her from the dining hall, but then his gaze slid away as if he’d deemed her beneath his notice.
    Taya’s heart sank. She took a seat at the other end of the room.
    On her desk was a clay tablet with something written on it in big letters. Looking around, she saw that everyone had a similar tablet, and every tablet had something written on it, but they were all different things. She felt pleased with herself for recognizing that the words were different. But her stomach knotted up as she realized she was probably the only initiate in the room who couldn’t read them.
    Mandir rose from his chair and walked across the room. Taya tracked his movement. The boy was larger than life; she couldn’t help but be aware of him. She hoped he might be coming to talk to her, but of course he wasn’t. He had gone to talk to some ruling-caste girl two seats away.
    Taya sat quietly, feeling very alone. All the other initiates were talking to their friends, and she didn’t have any friends yet. Nobody wanted to be friends with the farmer girl. She couldn’t even read the words on the tablet while she waited for class to start.
    Mandir headed back to his seat, passing behind her.
    Suddenly she felt an awful, painful tugging at her hair. Strands tore. She grabbed at her headdress—too late! Mandir had ripped it out of her hair.
    Taya’s hair fell free, just brushing her shoulders. The class laughed. Mandir, who’d returned to his seat, dangled the pale yellow headdress in front of her as if baiting a dog. Taya blushed furiously. Farmer girls never wore headdresses, and didn’t grow their hair long enough for them. But Coalition girls were supposed to wear them. It had been a struggle to put the thing on this morning; she’d had to use pins. Now Mandir had exposed her for what she was, with her too-short hair.
    “Give it back,” she demanded.
    “Come and get it,” he teased.
    Taya’s muscles tensed for action, but she stayed where she was. It was no use getting into a physical contest with Mandir isu Sarrum. She could not win.
    When he saw she wasn’t going to take the bait, he tossed the headdress over her head to a girl across the room, who neatly caught it.
    Taya considered charging at the girl—this was a physical matchup she could handle—but if she did, the girl would just throw it to someone else. While Taya was mulling over her options and lamenting the fact that none of them would result in anything but further embarrassment, the girl suddenly threw the headdress right at her. Surprised, Taya caught it, just in time to hear an instructor rap out, “Class. To order.”
    Taya hadn’t seen the instructor come in. She quickly sat down, with her headdress clutched in her hands.
    “You,” said the instructor, pointing at Taya. “Why are you not wearing your headdress?”
    The class tittered.
    Taya, too humiliated to confess the circumstances, froze in her seat.
    “See that you