A Trial of Sorcerers: Book One

by Kova, Elise

  Together, they started their silent trek back to Solarin.

  The road they were on eventually dumped into the Great Imperial Way. From there, it wasn’t far to the switchbacks that led up to the capital. The roads were empty at dawn, though in the distance, at the gates high above, she could see a group gathered on a platform that hadn’t been there before.

  As she approached the final switchback, she heard words from a distance. There was shouting. People began to move.

  “I’m not going to be able to help you immediately,” Cullen said softly as he came to a stop. Reverently, he set down Marcus’s body.

  “That’s all right.” Eira dismounted with his help. Her hand was still clutched tight, the muscles long since spasmed and locked into place. “I didn’t expect you to help me this much. I can do the rest on my own.”

  “But you won’t be alone, I promise.”

  Eira didn’t have a chance to ask him to clarify. City guards rushed around them. Fritz and Gwen were close behind. Senators with their bright blue sashes lagged after the rest.

  Fritz’s hands closed around her shoulders and he shook her with unintentional aggression. Eira’s head swung back and forth. Her muscles barely had enough strength to support her anymore.

  “Eira. Eira! Thank the Mother you’re alive.” He yanked her close and then pushed her back. “What happened?” His eyes were soft with heartbreak as they turned to Marcus.

  “I—”

  “She must be arrested,” a familiar voice spoke above her. Cullen’s father, Yemir, had reached the circle of guards surrounding her. “Guards, arrest her!”

  “No one move!” Gwen shouted, pushing past the guards. She was in her official plate armor, dressed to her neck in steel. “Senator Yemir, you are not the head of the city guard.”

  “And neither are you.” Yemir didn’t miss a beat. He made a show of looking Gwen up and down. “You’re part of the palace guard. This is beyond your jurisdiction and falls under the purview of the senate.”

  “Please, let’s let her explain,” Fritz said firmly.

  “She has murdered her fellow candidates. She has a track record of killing her peers. This is what we were trying to avoid by removing her from the Tower and bringing her to justice those years ago.” Yemir spoke more to the handful of his fellow senators than to the guards, as if he was putting on a show for them.

  “I didn’t,” Eira whispered, looking to Fritz rather than Yemir. “You know I wouldn’t. I would never hurt Marcus; I’d never hurt anyone intentionally! We were attacked and I brought him back so he could have a Rite of Sunset. I didn’t hurt him.” Eira grabbed her uncle’s elbow with her free hand.

  “I know, I know,” he tried to soothe. “But you must tell us what happened. Who attacked you?”

  The senators had conferred in record time. “Solaris is under the rule of law. City guard, you will arrest this woman and take her into custody. There is too much suspicion surrounding her to allow her to go free.”

  “We were attacked,” Eira insisted.

  “A likely story,” Yemir fired back. “We’ll see if the evidence supports your claims.”

  “I didn’t do anything!” Eira screamed at Yemir. Everything was playing out how Cullen had said. But it was somehow made worse by it being his father pointing the blame at her. Eira’s breath was short. She was back in that senate hall, barely fifteen, awaiting trial, awaiting her fate.

  “Then you have nothing to fear. Guards, apprehend her.”

  “No! I won’t let you touch her!” Gwen pushed forward and brandished her sword.

  “Auntie, don’t.” Eira was not about to see any more of her family suffer because of their proximity to her. “I’ll go willingly.”

  Cullen finally spoke. “Take her to the depths of the palace.”

  “What?” Gwen’s gaze was murderous. “You will not take her there. I have seen the cells and—”

  “It’s all right,” Eira tried to soothe. Enough people I love have suffered for me today, she wanted to say. “Let me go.” I won’t be a curse on your family any longer.

  “See?” Yemir preened. “My son speaks sense. Lock her away where the worst of Solaris goes. If she’s speaking the truth, she’ll maintain her story. If she’s not…enough time there breaks the strongest of men.”

  Eira met Cullen’s hazel eyes. They shone honey in the morning light, deceptively sweet. He’d said he’d help her, but the moment his father had shown up, he was throwing her into the dungeon. Cullen had to take his family’s side. She knew it. Yet, somehow, it still managed to sting. How were there spots of her left to wound?

  “We’re going to help you,” Gwen swore.

  “We’ll get to the truth of this.” Fritz crossed to his younger sister, wrapping his arms around her to hold Gwen back as the guards closed in on Eira.

  “Look after Marcus,” Eira begged as cold, steel-coated hands wrapped around her wrists, wrenching them behind her. The shackles were heavy—a terribly familiar weight. More hands wrapped around her arms, carrying her more than pushing her in the direction of a palace entry. “Make sure Marcus gets a Rite of Sunset! No matter what, give him a proper send-off!”

  The ground drifted beneath her as they manhandled her away. Was this how Marcus felt as she ferried him all the way back here? Helpless to do anything? The world drifting around him? Changing?

  Her attention landed on him once more. Fritz and Gwen knelt at his side. No…he hadn’t felt anything.

  Because he was long gone.

  “Goodbye, brother,” she whispered.

  The last thing Eira saw was Marcus’s cold body, her aunt and uncle mourning over him. They would look after him. And she—

  A sack was thrust over her head. A hand ripped the pin from her breast. Eira was thrust onto a cart and another tarp thrown atop her. She gasped the stale smell, coughing up dust. They didn’t want the masses to see a candidate dragged through town. This would all be hidden. They would try and blame her for the murders, but as long as Eira drew breath, she would not let that happen.

  Because, no matter what they did to her, as long as she had strength in her marrow she kept her hand clenched into a fist. Ferro was still her captive. And maybe her last bargaining chip.

  26

  The cell she was thrown into was a cold, barren place. There was nothing. No bed, no chamber pot, no warmth, no light.

  It suited her.

  Eira leaned against the bars of the door. The footsteps of the soldiers had long faded into the dripping of some distant water. Someone had to be stationed somewhere to keep an eye on her. Iron bars, even strong ones, weren’t effective at keeping sorcerers locked in. She wondered what sorcerer was given the order to kill her if she tried to escape. Who would be as eager to the task as Yemir had been at the idea of taking her captive for murders she didn’t commit?

  It didn’t matter. She wasn’t going to try to flee. Eira closed her eyes, finding it was hardly any different from having them open.

  Darkness within, darkness around.

  Time passed. The minutes slipped by, pouring into hours. Eira drowned in them just like she should have drowned in that cold abyss where Marcus had taken his last breath. Her numbed senses were beginning to sharpen. Thoughts of her brother returned in full, as though a dam had been broken.

  Her eyes shot open.

  “Hello?” she called timidly. “May I have some light?”

  The darkness she’d once relished was suddenly oppressive. It closed in around her from every corner. Shadows lived in it, ready to make her weary mind into their shattered plaything.

  Dark, just like the water of the lake they’d fallen into. Dark like the forests Ferro had emerged from, the forests she hoped her clenched fist still kept him captive in. Dark as the depths she’d pulled Marcus from too late.

  Too late.

  “Please?” she cried, louder. “May I have some light? Please?”

  If anyone heard her, they didn’t come. Eira curled into a ball, a
rms still bound behind her back. She’d begun using her other hand to hold her fingers and magic in place.

  Pressing her face into her knees, Eira drew deep, shuddering breaths. Ferro was her prisoner. He was captured. He wouldn’t harm her, and she could breathe. She wasn’t underneath the water and ice anymore.

  But Marcus was.

  Oh, Marcus.

  “Someone, please, light!” she begged with a sob.

  Light suddenly appeared, brighter than she expected. Eira bounced away from it with a yelp, tumbling, scrambling backward uncomfortably. At least until she realized that the light didn’t come from Lightspinning.

  The empress stood, a lit torch hovering over her shoulder, magically supported by invisible currents of air around its base. Vhalla quickly unlocked the door and stepped inside.

  “I’m so very sorry,” the empress murmured. Eira panted softly, her nerves calming. Feelings returned, though still somewhat detached and surreal, as the empress of all of Solaris knelt behind her and unlocked her shackles. “I came as fast as I could. Can you stand?”

  “Are you…are you a dream?” Maybe she had died with Marcus. Maybe this torture was the Father’s realms beyond. Eira was being punished for her crimes—for the apprentice she’d killed and for the apprentices who had died because of the information she’d given to Ferro.

  “No, I’m not,” the empress said kindly. “I’m here to help. Now, are you able to stand?”

  “I…I think so.” Eira nodded.

  “Good, let’s go somewhere more comfortable. You’ve had a hard enough day as it is.”

  “But the senators—”

  “The senate answers to the crown,” Vhalla said sharply. Then her expression softened into something more pained, tortured even. “But we have to do a dance around the fact sometimes to keep the peace. Politics can be…complicated. I didn’t understand it myself when I was in your shoes.”

  “In my shoes?” Eira asked as Vhalla helped her to her feet. Her legs wobbled, but somehow still supported her weight.

  “Yes, a long time ago…” Vhalla’s gaze swung around the cell. Her nose scrunched in disgust. “I’ll tell you on the way. I have no interest in lingering here.”

  The empress left and the torch followed her. A very confused Eira hobbled behind, trying to keep up. It was that, or stay in the darkness of the cell forever.

  The empress led her up a stair and down a hallway, where she returned the torch to a rung on the wall. She then lifted a tapestry to reveal a door that they passed through. Farther along, there were two more hidden passages, three more stairways, and several switchbacks, to the point that Eira was well and truly lost.

  This all has to be a dream, her mind continued trying to insist.

  No, dreams don’t hurt this badly, her heart retorted.

  Nightmares do, and you will never have a pleasant dream again.

  Behind a locked door was one last hall that led to another locked door and, finally, into a lavish parlor. Vhalla closed the door—no, painting, it was a painting on this side—behind them and locked it once more. She said, “You’ll be safe here.”

  “Where…” Eira was high up in the palace now, based on the view from the windows, in a room that dripped gold. Beyond that and all the finery, she didn’t have a clue as to where she was.

  “You’re in the Imperial apartments. No one but my family, most trusted friends, and hand-picked guards are permitted here. You’ll be safe.” Vhalla crossed over to a low table between the sofas, where a pile of blankets was set out. “Come, sit by the fire and get warm.”

  “I’m not cold.”

  “No…” Vhalla paused, the blanket she’d been about to offer hanging limply over her arm. “I imagine you’re not.”

  “I don’t feel anything.” Eira shook her head.

  Vhalla slowly approached her, as if Eira were a wild animal. She waited a moment before draping the blanket over her shoulders. When she spoke, it was with a mother’s voice rather than the Empress of Solaris’. “I know…”

  Two words, in that tone, broke her once more.

  “I-I don’t feel anything!” Eira sobbed as the empress bundled her.

  “I know,” Vhalla echoed herself and then stepped forward and wrapped her arms over the blanket. Eira could hardly process the fact that the empress was holding her. But instinct had Eira burying her face into the woman’s shoulder as she sobbed. The motherly position had her aching, longing for a love that Eira had needed desperately but her parents had left her wanting. “I know,” Vhalla repeated over and over.

  Something made Eira believe she really did know. There was a sorrowful need that bloomed from forgotten grief in the empress’s voice. This was a woman who had been born into nothing and had risen up to power despite all odds to take on the Mad King. She had suffered greatly along the way, if the tales were to be believed. This incredible woman was holding Eira, of all people.

  “I’m sorry,” Vhalla whispered.

  “I don’t… What do I do wrong? Is it because of me? Because I cheated? Because I didn’t drop out? Because I didn’t listen to my family?” Eira hiccupped as the tears abated once more.

  “Come and sit with me, for starters.” Vhalla led her gently over to the sofas by the fire. Eira sat, at a loss for what else to do. Vhalla sat close, arm still around her shoulders. “I see so much of myself in you and my heart breaks for it.”

  “What?” Eira blinked.

  “I was in that cell once. They don’t talk about it much anymore… Does the Night of Fire and Wind mean anything to you?” Eira shook her head and Vhalla laughed softly. “I suppose I should be grateful it’s long since fallen out of favor to speak of. That night is certainly not one I wish to be prominent in my legacy…if I get to choose what my legacy is at all.” The empress shook her head and refocused herself. Vhalla pursed her lips in thought, her palm rubbing circles on Eira’s back. “Listen to me, Eira. I was put on trial because there were twisted people in power and because there were forces at play greater than myself. I like to think my husband and I, for all our shortcomings and for all the good we could still yet do, are not twisted people in power. But there are powerful people maneuvering and you have ended up a piece on the board of their game.”

  “I didn’t kill my brother.” The words were accompanied by a violent shake of her head. “Or any of the other competitors.”

  “I know,” Vhalla said quickly. “Cullen told me.”

  Eira stilled, her wide eyes unfocused. “What?”

  “Cullen told me what you said when he found you.”

  “He…how?”

  “First things first.” Vhalla’s hand fell on Eira’s clenched fist. “Do you still have Ferro captive?”

  “You know?” Eira whispered. Vhalla nodded. Eira looked to her hand. “I think I do. I still feel magic leaving me but…I’m so tired. I don’t know if it’s enough, he might be—”

  “We’ll find out soon. After you were taken, Cullen came to me and explained everything. He told me where he had encouraged them to lock you away.” She chuckled softly. “I suppose being honest with him about that night in my past, long ago, and its aftermath resulted in something good. He knew where to put you where no one would look, where no one but guards of Imperial choosing could find you—where I could get to you.”

  “He…looked after me?” Eira slowly brought her eyes to the empress’s.

  “As best he knew how. Be gentle on him; there’s more than you know riding on him as the first Windwalker after myself. He is not without darkness and struggle, either.” She wore a sad smile and smoothed a hand over Eira’s hair. The movement didn’t even seem to register. Eira had only ever thought of the empress as a figurehead, her sovereign…never as a mother. The familial movements were making Eira’s heart break further in a sort of beautiful torture. “He should be here soon. Along with the others.”

  “Others?”

  At that moment the door to the parlor opened, revealing Fritz, Grahm, and Gwen.


  “Vhal, you are truly the savior of Solaris.” Fritz’s voice broke with emotion as his gaze fell on Eira. “Thank you for getting her.”

  “Of course, Fritz.” Vhalla stood to make room for Eira’s family. Eira barely resisted asking the comforting woman to stay.

  Gwen was the first to press her side against Eira’s. Fritz and Grahm surrounded her next, completing a semicircle of protection. Eira dipped her head, trying to drown in the folds of the blanket still on her shoulders.

  “I’m sorry,” she murmured. Lingering underneath all the affection was how things had been left with her uncles and the revelations of her family. It all seemed so insignificant to her now, but would they feel the same?

  “You have nothing to be sorry for. We’ll get to the bottom of this,” Gwen said with a squeeze. “And you’re safe now. No more senators acting like they own all of Solarin.”

  Eira thought back to Yemir. What would he think once he found out Cullen had helped her? He’d been so eager to lock her away… Was he truly that committed to justice? Was it a score to settle from when she had “eluded justice” for the apprentice she’d killed as a girl? Or…was he afraid of her? Eira thought back to the day at court and his reaction to her power. She thought back to what Fritz had warned her of.

  Her powers were dangerous, deadly, and the sort of magic men and women fighting to be at the top would want to possess or destroy.

  “I should have listened.” Eira met Fritz’s sad eyes. “I shouldn’t have entered the trials.”

  “Stop that; it’s all right,” he said softly, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. But nothing felt all right. In fact, everything felt very, very wrong. “We’re thanking the Mother above you’re safe.”

  Eira stared at the floor. It wasn’t enough. She wasn’t enough. Marcus should be here and not her.

  They sat together for almost an hour, saying very little. Gwen made an attempt at conversation, but her voice kept cracking and eventually her words were swallowed up by the absence of Marcus. After that there were only a few words exchanged between them. What was there to say? Nothing was going to bring back Marcus, or fix the broken picture of their family. What was the point of speaking at all?