by Kova, Elise
“One more thing,” Ferro interjected. “Before we get to that, I’d like to make sure that you and I are aligned. I have no intention of telling anyone else of our discussions. While nothing untoward is occurring, I wouldn’t want to give the look of impropriety or favoritism, since I will be designing your final two trials.”
“Oh, that’s right.” Eira tucked her hair behind her ears, thinking a moment. “Well, as you said, we know we’re doing nothing wrong. I don’t see why our meeting needs to be public knowledge.” The only person Eira might tell would be Alyss. And Eira knew that Alyss would keep it secret, and not judge her too harshly…hopefully.
“Good!” Ferro clapped his hands together. “Now, I want to know more about your magic, and then I will tell you a legend.”
“Mine?”
“The elemental affinities fascinate me. I’ve been told that sorcerers of a particular affinity cannot be harmed—at least not lethally—by elements of their affinity.”
“That’s true.”
“So, I wonder, can a Waterrunner drown?”
“Yes, though not easily.” Eira’s mind wandered to the underground spring she’d seen earlier, deep in the depths of the palace. She imagined a Waterrunner, far bolder than her and with a voice like ice, diving into those equally cold waters, never to emerge again. “It’s not easy to drown a Waterrunner, as our innate sorcery will spring to action, preventing water from harming us. Our magic forms a bubble around us, underneath the surface. But, that very act, however instinctive it is, saps our power.” Eira pursed her lips. “It’s difficult to explain. But, if kept under long enough, we would run out of magic and strength. When that happens, yes, we would drown.”
“And the air in that bubble?” he asked.
“I suppose it could run out…” Eira had never really considered it. “It’d depend on how prepared the Waterruner was before going under, I think.”
“Ah, I see.” He laughed, though Eira wasn’t amused by the conversation in the slightest. “I have witnessed your crown princess walk through fire and come out unscathed. So I thought that all Solaris sorcerers were impervious to their elements.”
“Completely impervious, no. But thankfully, as I said, it’s not easy for us to be harmed by the same element as our affinities.”
“Indeed.” Ferro smiled. “Now, I promised you a legend about your continent. Let’s start with how Meru and Solaris were once one.”
Eira settled back in her chair as Ferro told her a story of a long-ago time when Meru, Solaris, and the Shattered Isles between them were one unified continent. He told her of a great godly war between the ultimate good—Yargen—and ultimate evil—Raspian. In that battle, the continent was torn asunder.
It was more fiction than fact. But in his rich tones, the words came to life. They painted pictures before her eyes like no one ever had before. Ferro was a skilled orator and Eira listened to him speak long into the night. She eagerly answered his every question about her magic just in exchange for his voice.
By the time they stood, the fire had died to smoldering embers that cast them in red outlines.
“I believe that is our signal.” Was that lamentation Eira heard in his tone?
She stood from her chair at the same time as him. “I enjoyed tonight.” She was surprised by how much she meant the statement. Her voice was hoarse. Eira wasn’t accustomed to speaking with anyone so much. By now, she and Alyss would’ve long fallen into a comfortable silence as they focused on a book and a wad of clay or bit of wood, respectively.
“As did I, more than I expected.” Ferro hovered and Eira followed his lead. “Thank you for telling me so much about your magic, and the Tower.”
“Of course. I look forward to our next exchange.”
“As do I.” Ferro’s attention dropped. Before Eira could figure out what gained his focus, he swept her hand up in his. In a fluid motion, the ambassador brought her knuckles to his lips.
Eira was grateful for the warm glow of the room, because the flush on her cheeks was worse than if she spent an hour in the sun.
“Until next time, sweet Eira.” Ferro left her standing in the growing darkness, trying to collect her breath and find her knees.
* * *
Over the next week, the whole encounter felt like it had been a dream.
It couldn’t have been real. A clandestine meeting in the middle of the night with Ambassador Ferro? Things like that didn’t happen to Eira.
Then again, perhaps they did. In the past month she had discovered a secret room and passage. She had defied her family and become a candidate for competitor in the Tournament of Five Kingdoms. Why couldn’t she also secretly meet with a dignitary from Meru? She was becoming someone new, perhaps someone she’d always been meant to be.
Every night, Eira returned to her room, waiting for another letter. But none came. She wished she could’ve kept the first letter he’d sent and vowed to keep the next. It would be the only proof she had that she really hadn’t dreamed the whole encounter.
“All right, what do you know?” Alyss looked up from the clay that was coating her fingers. Her bowl of porridge was pushed off to the side, mostly empty.
Eira made a low humming noise, bringing her attention back to the real world.
“You’ve spent the better part of breakfast daydreaming while staring out the windows. Spill it.”
“I’m thinking of the next trial.”
Alyss snorted. “I don’t believe that for a second.”
“Well, it’s true.” Just not the whole truth.
Alyss leaned forward, her voice dropped to a whisper. “You haven’t been going back to that place, have you?”
“No, I promised you I wouldn’t.”
“Good.” Satisfied, Alyss settled back with the clear intent of returning to her sculpting—a fox, today. But her eyes didn’t make it. Instead, they looked over Eira’s shoulder, narrowing slightly. “Well, if it isn’t the Prince of the Tower, gracing us with his lordly presence.”
“Good morning, ladies.” Cullen gave a nod. His hair was free and tousled today, falling into his eyes. “Eira, I was hoping to have a word with you.”
“Why?” Eira didn’t bother hiding a grimace. Alyss snickered.
“Because I would like one.”
“And I would like a boat to Meru. Get me that and I’ll think about giving you a word.”
“May we speak, please?” Cullen ground out the word. He clearly wasn’t accustomed to people not jumping at the opportunity to bask in his glory. “I’m here on your brother’s behalf.”
That brought her attention back to him in an instant. “Is everything all right with Marcus?”
“Yes, please, just a word before I meet with the empress.” Cullen, per usual, never missed a chance to mention he got to train with the empress. Or dine with the empress. Or just get to bask in the empress’s glory because he was so special.
Eira rolled her eyes. “Fine.”
She followed Cullen out of the mess hall and up the Tower. They wound around, past the library and Waterrunners’ workshop, eventually entering a door not far from her brother’s room—between the workshop and the minister’s office. It was a strange little room, indeed. As if the space couldn’t make up its mind on what it wanted to be.
A small wood-burning stove had two chairs positioned next to it. Eira could see the smoke it piped through the wall streaming by the stained glass window. Two bookshelves were crammed full, a desk wedged between them. The right half of the room was dominated by a large table and stools with cramped curio cabinets behind them, almost like a miniature version of the Waterrunners’ workroom.
“What is this place?”
“We call it the Windwalkers’ study.” Cullen motioned to the chairs by the stove. “Make yourself comfortable.”
“I think I’ll stand,” Eira decided when he leaned against the table rather than sitting.
“If it pleases you.”
“Where is my brother?”
<
br /> “Already out for the day. I think he was sent to the East Clinic, if you’re curious.”
Even though competitors weren’t supposed to have duties, Marcus apparently still did. Eira didn’t envy the work. But she did envy the idea of being so important that people didn’t want to even afford her a day off. “I thought you said—”
“He asked me to speak to you.” Cullen gave her a hard stare. He oozed discomfort from every pore as he gripped the edge of the table, clearly debating what he was going to say next. Eira allowed him to stew in his agony. She was used to awkward situations; she’d been the herald of awkward for years, so the circumstances weren’t having the same effect on her. “I am going to invite you to court tomorrow. I mean, I am inviting you to court tomorrow.”
Eira blinked several times, shook her head, and tucked her hair behind her ears. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I heard—”
“Tomorrow, I would like you to be my guest at court,” he rephrased. The eloquence Cullen could usually muster had returned the third try.
“Why?”
“It’s not because I want to be around you.”
“Obviously.” Eira rolled her eyes. “Given my shock, I thought you’d realize I know that.”
Cullen’s lips curled into a thin smirk. There was a mischievous glint to his hazel eyes that Eira wasn’t used to and didn’t know how to read. “Your brother asked me to do it.”
“Still unclear as to the why.”
“Rumor is, the obstacle course for our next trial is being set up in the training grounds. They’ve been closed off for the entire week, so it seems likely. The training grounds aren’t far from court and there is a back entrance to them where, sometimes, the nobles will go to observe the guards running drills.”
“Why would they want to do that?” she blurted.
“The things boredom can drive wealthy people to do would shock you.” Cullen shrugged. The way he said it made it clear that he didn’t count himself among those “wealthy people,” which struck Eira as odd, given his status. “In any case, if I slipped out of court to go take a look, it would be noticed. But if I brought you…well, you’re pretty good at being overlooked.”
“Thanks,” she said dryly.
“I meant no offense, just a fact.”
“Well, the fact is offensive.”
“Mother above, you are abrasive.” He put his hand over his face and sighed.
“Only to people who are abrasive to me.”
“I have been nothing but kind to you.”
Eira snorted at his remark.
“Oh? How have I been unkind?”
Eira folded her arms over her chest and turned to the windows. She hated the memories the mere question dredged up. “You know how.”
“Eira.” His tone softened some. His eyes searched her and she felt vulnerable under his gaze. “I had no idea what Adam’s letter said. I didn’t know what he was planning to do to you. Don’t shoot the messenger.”
“Stop.”
“I didn’t support them.”
“Lies.”
“Don’t call me a liar,” Cullen snapped.
“Then don’t lie to my face! You and Adam were inseparable. You still are. There’s no way you didn’t know.”
“I seriously had no idea!” He pushed away from the table and advanced on her.
“Lies,” she repeated. Eira jutted out her chin as he crossed the threshold of her personal space. Her heart raced. Cullen opened his mouth to speak but she cut him off. “Even if you didn’t know, you let it happen. You were—and still are—complicit to him torturing me. You stood by him after, and everyone in the Tower looks up to you, so you told everyone with your actions that what Adam did was all right.”
Her words seemed to shake him, but only for a moment. “Just let it go. Everything will be better for you if you do.” He almost sounded sincere. Compassionate? The notion soured her stomach further.
“I will not. Not until justice has been properly served.”
“Justice?” He scoffed. “Says the woman who killed someone and still walks free.”
Eira took a step back like he’d struck her.
Cullen looked away guiltily. “I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry.”
“What do you care?” Eira grabbed her elbows, holding herself.
“Eira, I—” He faltered. His hand hovered in the air, as if he’d been about to reach for her. Eira looked between it and his face and Cullen dropped the offending appendage. “I can understand.”
“Oh, you can? The perfect Prince of the Tower.”
“I can more than you know.”
“Just stop.” Anxiety was welling up in her at the memory of the incident. She hadn’t meant to, but she had killed someone. It would always make her feel cold, clammy, off-balance. It should. That was her punishment.
Her usual mental barriers were weakened and the voices began to slip through.
…I don’t think I can master this technique. It’s hopeless…
…You like her! Gregor has a crush…
…I know I have no choice. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep up this game. If the truth ever got out, my family would be ruined… Cullen’s voice.
The last voice was his, resonating from the mantle. Who was he speaking to when he said that? How long ago had it been? What dark secret was he carrying? He could understand more than she knew? Suddenly the ascension of his family to nobility, his father’s senate seat, everything was cast in a slightly more nefarious light.
The door opened and both of them turned to find the empress.
When the startled expression wore off Vhalla’s face, she smiled almost a little too sweetly. “I apologize for interrupting, Cullen. If you need to reschedule our lessons today I’d be happy to do so.”
“We were just wrapping up.” Cullen cleared his throat and hastily stepped away. It wasn’t until then that Eira realized how close they’d been. She pushed ice under her cheeks to keep them from warming and making the whole situation look worse.
“Apologies, Your Majesty.” Eira curtsied as best she could.
“It’s no trouble,” Vhalla said warmly. She crossed the threshold and placed a heavy tome on the table. Windwalkers of the East was its title. “Are you certain, Cullen?”
“Yes. I was inviting Eira to court tomorrow. Since she accepted, we were just wrapping up,” Cullen said smoothly.
“Oh, you will be a delight at court.” Vhalla beamed. “The emperor and I hope for more and more sorcerers to be around the nobility.”
He involved the empress, the bastard. There was no way Eira could back down now. “It’s my honor,” Eira forced herself to say. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
She had to go and use every hour to mentally prepare herself for the viper pit that was the Solaris Court.
11
That night, a courier arrived in the Tower with a box for her. Inside was an impeccably tailored gown of a deep blue velvet and sea-foam satin trim that Eira hated herself for admiring. Especially given who sent it.
She marched straight to her brother’s room, box and letter in hand. The moment Marcus opened the door, Eira launched into him.
“It’s one thing to sign me up to do something with Cullen, of all people. It’s another for that thing to be going with him to court. But did you have to give him my measurements?” Eira pointed accusingly to a section of Cullen’s note that smugly read:
I do hope the color pleases you. I tried to find something that matched your personality. Based on the numbers I was given, it should fit. Luckily, things only needed to be taken in since you don’t have much in the way of hips or bust.
Marcus burst out into laughter.
“Marcus, this is serious!”
“Eira, it’s fine. Come in and sit.”
Marcus’s room was identical to Eira’s and every other apprentice’s dormitory. She sat on the bed in a huff, the box a whisper of rustling fabric beside her.
“Listen, he’s doing it
as a favor to me. I knew you were free tomorrow, I’m not. Uncle has me still going to the clinic despite being a candidate. He says they need me there and that it’ll help my overall prestige and appearance as a candidate. I would’ve gone if I could.”
Eira still chose to ignore that her brother was so important he wasn’t getting time off like the rest of them. “Why don’t you go to court the next day?”
“Because the court only meets once a month, usually. We’re lucky the timing works at all. We might not have had a chance to catch a glimpse of the course early otherwise.”
Eira stared at her toes. That was the real reason why she’d come. “You know you’re talking about cheating, don’t you?”
“It’s not really cheating.” Marcus rolled his eyes.
“You’re going to know elements of the course before anyone else. How is that not cheating?”
“But we won’t know how they’re going to make us run through those elements. And it’s only partway built; they might change something. So it’s not really any kind of leg up.”
“If it’s not a benefit to you then why am I doing this at all?” Eira stared him down. “And if it’s not cheating, why am I sneaking around to do it?”
“Eira…” Marcus grabbed her shoulders. “Please? As a favor to me?”
“Why are you stooping to this level?”
He released her with a sigh. “I need to win.”
“You don’t need to cheat to do that.” Eira stood. “Marcus, you’re the best Waterrunner I know. You’re even better than Fritz,” Eira echoed Cullen’s words. Maybe if enough people told her brother, he’d believe them. “I’m sure that’s part of why he’s allowed you to stay in the Tower as an apprentice. You can learn more without all the limitations of an instructor on your time.” At least, she hoped that was part of the reason he was still here. It couldn’t all be because of her, could it?
“I’m not as good as you think I am.” He looked at her with weary and sad eyes. Eyes Eira didn’t recognize from her brother.