Liv had never thought about it that way. The Thresher just was. Everyone went through it. It was inextricable from drafting, from the Chromeria. If nothing else, every drafter had the Thresher in common.
"The noble girls all knew what was coming," Liv said. "Unlike the rest of us. They knew the test itself wouldn't hurt them, so that bit of talking outside the test was the only thing that made them afraid. Because even if they'd been warned, hearing a tester who claims to belong to your enemy's family say that accidents happen is terrifying."
"Hadn't thought of that," Gavin said. "All my friends were nobles. I thought everyone knew what was coming."
Of course you did. It's just another way the Chromeria's stacked to favor your kind.
Gavin cleared his throat. "Liv, my son might be special, really gifted. We'll find out presently, but I wouldn't be surprised if he's a polychrome. He's Tyrean, his mother just died, he's going to face false friends and unearned enemies just for being my son; he won't fit in anywhere and yet people are going to be watching him all the time. If he's truly powerful on top of that… he could turn into a monster. He wouldn't be the first in my family to handle great power poorly. The gift isn't a pure gift, you know."
"What do you want me to do?" Liv asked. Was she really going to be tutoring the Prism's son? Bastard son, but still. She felt like a huge weight had been lifted off of her. The Prism was just the Prism-well, maybe there was no such thing as being just the most powerful man in the world-but he was a lord to whom she owed service. Normal service. Something not terribly hard, given how completely he'd changed her life.
"Maybe he'll be a monochrome. Probably will be. I'm getting ahead of myself," Gavin said.
"But if he's not?" You've got to let me know what your expectations are or I'm going to fail-and then you'll be mad at me for that. Typical nobleman. Liv felt good that she was able to be irritated. She was regaining her bearings.
"Pretend he's normal. In all ways. I know he'd figure it out pretty quickly if we stay, but I'm going to take him away from here as soon as I possibly can. Until then, give him some normalcy. If he makes you mad, yell at him. Smack his knuckles with a stick if he misbehaves, you understand? But if he masters something difficult, pretend it's good but nothing out of the norm. I want him to know that those who matter aren't going to be impressed by who his father is or how much he can draft."
"And who are these people?" Liv asked sarcastically. She hadn't really meant to say it out loud, but Gavin was being ridiculously idealistic. Of course who he was and how much he could draft mattered. Maybe when you were born on the top of the mountain you could pretend the mountain didn't matter, but those who climbed it and those born at its base who could never climb at all knew differently.
"Me and Orholam," Gavin said, ignoring her tone. "If we're the only ones whose approval he cares about, he's got a chance."
Liv didn't know if that was the most arrogant or the most profound thing she'd ever heard. Maybe both. Whatever else it did, though, it reminded her who and what Gavin was. By Orholam's scowling brow, she'd been glibly sarcastic to the Prism, the man closest in all the world to Orholam himself. And thank Orholam that Liv had turned down that awful woman. Even if it was going to cost her dearly. Spying on the Prism himself? It was practically sacrilegious. As bad as Liv's stupidity and awkwardness and horrifying sliver of infatuation was, how awful would it have been to be a traitor too? She swallowed. "I'm sorry, Lord Prism, I was out of-"
Gavin raised a hand and stood abruptly.
Liv glanced at the crystal but saw nothing. The crystal hadn't changed. She looked over at Gavin in time to see the Prism blanch-then his face was lit up like the sun had just come out from behind the blackest clouds.
A wash of colors flashed through his skin and he threw out a hand toward the crystal. A crackling, shimmering tube of luxin shot from his hand and stuck to the crystal on the opposite wall like an iridescent spiderweb on fire. More and more gushed out of the man, pushing deep into the crystal.
And then, as abruptly as he started, Gavin stopped. A moment later, the crystal glowed a brilliant jade green, and then a less intense blue.
Gavin sighed with relief.
"What was that?" Liv asked.
"A secret!" Gavin barked. He gestured, and Liv felt a gust of cold wind and heard the windows drop heavily into their slots.
"Come here," the Prism ordered. His body filled with every color in the rainbow and beyond. A rope of green luxin wrapped around a chain of yellow-infused blue ran from his hand. "Now, girl! I have to be there first to contain this, and he's going to need you."
In a daze, Liv hurried over to the Prism. She didn't even know what he was talking about.
"Get on my back," he said.
"What?"
"On my back, now! Hold on tight."
She jumped on his back. His body was unnaturally hot from the sub-reds he was holding along with every other color. What was he doing? She looked at the chain he was holding again. Then he turned and faced the void outside his window. She squeaked and held on with a death grip.
"Nna tha igh!" the Prism said.
"What?" Liv asked, loosening her grip around his neck.
"Not that tight," he growled.
Even as she apologized, bands of luxin whipped around her body, holding her tight against him. Gavin took a run toward the window and leapt.
Liv's view, at first, was only of the luxin spooling out of Gavin's hand like spider's silk, perfectly matching the rate at which they were falling. She realized she had no idea how far exactly they would have to fall to get to the level of the Threshing Chamber, or how Gavin would know when to stop them. For that matter, how did he mean to get back into the tower from the outside? Hope someone left a window open?
Oh, dear Orholam!
They were falling an awfully long time. Liv's eyes disobeyed her and jumped from the luxin above to the ground below. It was rushing up at them with incredible speed.
Then she was crushed into Gavin's back as he solidified the rope. The pressure threatened to sweep her off of him and straight into the courtyard. They whipped around backward and she saw the rope-chain spooled out to the distant top of the Prism's Tower, and the tower itself was looming bigger and bigger as as they swung back toward its sheer, unbroken face.
Three sharp jerks pushed her and Gavin backward, but with nowhere near enough force to slow them down. Briefly, Liv saw three missiles streaking out from Gavin's outstretched left hand toward the tower in front of them.
She didn't see what the missiles did, because whatever else they accomplished, with Gavin shooting them out of his left hand while his right held the rope, he absorbed the recoil with his left arm. So as soon as the missiles were out of his hand, Gavin and Liv were sent spinning sharply widdershins.
Glass and stone exploded on every side around Liv. She was sliding along a floor, zipping straight and smooth for a fraction of a second, abruptly cut away from the Prism. Then something caught the hem of her skirt. Her momentum and the friction with the floor yanked it up hard, and then her bare skin squeaked on naked stone. She flopped over sideways and rolled a few times. When she stopped against the wall, all she could think was that she couldn't believe she was still alive.
There were half a dozen drafters in the suddenly breezy hallway, looking at the Prism and her in disbelief. The Prism was already up, giving sharp orders.
Why is my butt cold? Liv followed the drafters' stares and looked down. Her skirt was bunched around her waist from the slide, exposing her to all the world. She squeaked, yanked her skirt down, and jumped to her feet.
"You, get Luxlord Black. Tell him I want this repaired. Today. Go immediately. You, take the names of everyone in this hall and everyone in the testing chamber," the Prism was saying. Liv, seeing everyone's attention was on the Prism, shifted her hips. She hadn't noticed until after she jumped up, but her butt cheeks had been cold because her underclothes had been yanked up too. Now they were cleaving the moon in a serious way. She shimmied, trying to fix her underclothes without fishing after them with a hand. "Aliviana, what are you doing?" the Prism asked.