by Kova, Elise
“You’ll have time to go through the rest of the gifts later.” Jax looked to one of the windows of her study. The dark morning was finally giving way to the first hazy colors of dawn. “We should get down to the pits.”
“Do I have to?” Vi dared to ask, knowing better. “It’s my birthday.” She may hate the day, but she’d gladly use it as an excuse.
“Yes.”
“You are truly heartless.” Her words had no bite and Jax’s grin assured her he didn’t take them personally.
“One of my many positive traits.”
“Let’s get this over with.” Vi rolled her eyes dramatically as she started for the door.
The rules of her life were simple, structured, and painfully clear.
If she followed them to the letter, remained the model future Empress, her reward would be reuniting with her family. She would be liberated from her beautiful, comfortable prison.
In theory.
In practice, she was supposed to have been returned when she turned fourteen. But three long years had dragged on, and here she was on her seventeenth birthday. Still in the North. Still a ward confined to Soricium—the fortress, specifically, for her “safety.” Still stuck feeling trapped, repetition defining her days as she continued to try to jump through political hoops so high and obscure, she barely knew where she was half the time.
There had been delay after delay, issue after issue, preventing her from heading south. The years had slipped by until, at seventeen, growing bitterness had all but replaced waning hope.
Every effort she had ever expended toward this one goal seemed more futile by the day, and now she headed for the most futile effort of all: sorcery training.
Chapter Two
The sky was barely orange, and she was already drenched in sweat. It rolled down her neck and was caught by the collar of her shirt, pressed slick to her back. It stuck to her just like every couple labored breaths stuck in her throat.
There was nothing enjoyable about trying to wrench her magic to the surface. Her shoulders sagged and her whole body ached. She’d only left her bed a few hours ago and Vi already felt like she needed a good night’s rest.
“You look like you’re about ready to try again…” Jax said from across the fighting pit. He’d sat on the steps while she caught her breath after the exertion—and frustration—of her last failure.
“This will be, what, the seventeen-thousandth attempt to Awaken my magic?”
“I hear seventeen-thousand-and-one is a lucky number.”
“You’re such a liar,” Vi muttered. “How is it that you, of all people, ended up the guardian of the Crown Princess?” The question was a running joke between them. She’d long known the answer.
Jax, not her uncle by blood, was an old friend of her parents. After the fall of the Mad King Victor, he was even hand-selected to rebuild an illustrious fighting force—the Golden Guard. But he’d chosen to come North with Vi after she was born, giving it all up to look after her.
Guardian might be his official title, but for Vi, Jax was the closest thing she had to an in-person father figure.
“Right now it’s because I seem to be the only one who can put up with her ill-tempered moods in the morning.”
“If I’m ill tempered then you only have yourself to blame. You could make more of an effort when you are in the presence of your Crown Princess.” Vi made an attempt to put on a regal air, fighting a grin.
“Not when I wiped that princess’s arse when she was in nappies.”
“Your service to the crown is much appreciated.” She gave a bow, making a point to stick out her bottom for emphasis.
“Is it? Your family has an odd way of showing appreciation. Shite from you, shite from your parents.” If anyone else had said those words, Vi would’ve risen to anger in defense of her family. But she knew better with Jax.
Jax could say whatever he wanted. Vi knew he would die for her and her family.
“Well now you’re getting shite for magic from Solaris’s latest installment.”
“Your magic is stubborn, not shite.” He gave her a tired smile. “You will open your magic fully soon, I can feel it.”
“What if I don’t?” Vi said softly, confessing one of her greatest fears. “It’s already been two years since I manifested… What if I’ve already Awoken and this is all I have?”
“You don’t believe that.” Jax stood. “You’ve told me of the spark you feel within you. That chasm of light you can peer into but not reach.”
“Perhaps that’s something else?” Though she didn’t know what it would be.
“Or perhaps we simply need to keep trying.”
“How about, instead, we take a break today and I focus on something actually attainable? I could prepare for my lessons, work on my maps, read the books my parents sent…”
“I think if you spent as much mental energy on your magic as you did your maps, you would’ve long since opened your channel and we’d no longer be standing out here.”
That was the last thing she wanted to do. Vi looked up at the treetops dizzyingly high above her. The fortress of Soricium was built in and around them. A noble house beginning to wake—which gave her an idea.
“Aren’t you hungry? We could go inside and have the nice big skillet cake Renna makes for me on my birthday. The ones she drizzles syrup over with pats of butter and fresh berries and candied nuts? Maybe some of the rum whipped cream you enjoy so much?” Her mouth was already watering, stomach grumbling to match.
“And think of how much sweeter it will be when you’ve properly tasted your power.”
“It’s hard to learn magic when your stomach is eating itself.” Vi plastered a hopeful—but knowingly futile—smile across her lips. “I leave for my birthday hunt tomorrow morning; surely I should maintain my strength today.”
“You’re not going to win me over with the promise of food… no matter how delicious Renna’s skillet cakes are.” She opened her mouth to object again, but he continued before she could. “Try once more, Vi—a good showing of it—and then I’ll let you go.”
Vi knew his acquiescence was a victory, but it didn’t feel like one. Her cheeks burned and she didn’t know who she was more frustrated with: Jax for not giving in, or herself for being such a coward and a weakling about her magic.
Two heavy hands fell on her shoulders, holding them tightly, giving her a light shake. Vi looked up at Jax, his dark eyes set against tan skin. “You know you must.”
“I know.” Vi sighed heavily. “The Senate expects me to learn magic. The Tower will want to see it. I have a lineage to uphold…”
“More than any of that, the longer you go without being fully Awoken, the more likely it is that the eventual, inevitable release will be violent.” His voice had a deathly seriousness to it. “You already have enough strikes against your future rule, Vi. Having grown up here. Being a sorceress at all. Don’t add a magical incident to their fodder. Awaken here, where it’s safe.”
Every action had an equal reaction with the nobility of the South. Romulin made them out to sound like vipers, waiting for her to fail. Delighting in her every mistake. Never in public, of course, but behind closed doors.
She was the one forced to stand in the sun while they lobbed their volleys at her from the shadows.
“So, one more time?” Jax persisted. “Give it a good effort?”
“One more time, and then you promise that’s it for today?”
“I promise.”
“Fine.” Vi lifted her hand, reluctantly obliging. One more attempt at magic for the day. What could it hurt?
“Remember, when opening your channel, it helps to articulate a physical action.”
“Let’s not put the cart before the horse. I’m not opening any channel until I’ve Awakened my powers.”
“It’s important to start building good habits from the beginning,” he insisted. “Maybe it’ll help draw out the power.”
“I’ve tried just about ever
y physical action imaginable.”
“Then try something you can’t imagine.”
“I think I’ll stick with knuckle cracking,” Vi muttered.
“Suit yourself.” He shrugged and Vi saw how little faith he had in her.
Believe in me, she wanted to say. If she had one person believe in her when it came to her magic, then maybe it’d be enough. But how could she ask that of Jax when Vi didn’t believe in herself?
Fritz’s letter appeared in her mind once more.
I believe in you, Vi… magic has an odd way of finding us when we need it most.
Her hand rose to the watch around her neck. Vi closed her eyes, holding it tightly. Maybe it would bring out her spark a second time.
“Find me,” she whispered.
Vi didn’t know if it was a prayer to the Mother above, or just a plea to whoever might be listening. But the words were the first thing all morning to feel right. If Jax heard them, he made no indication.
Watch in one hand, the other outstretched, Vi dug deep within herself. She tried to coax the power upward, feeling it crackle under her flesh before it crept through the pores around her wrists and hands as shimmering heat that finally ignited into fire.
This pathetic flame was the best she could muster while maintaining any control over it. Daughter of Emperor Aldrik Solaris, regarded as one of the most powerful Firebearers alive. Granddaughter of the late Empress Fiera Ci’Dan Solaris, also regarded as one of the most powerful Firebearers in the world before her son. And now… all eyes were on Vi.
“More,” Jax encouraged.
“There is no more.” Vi pressed her lips into a thin line, trying to tame her frustration. Her uncle had heard it all already.
“There is.”
“There isn’t.” She looked from the fire to him.
Jax’s eyes were alight with the orange hues of her blaze. It lit up the stone walls of the pit, winning against the yellows of dawn. He had a hard expression that she already didn’t like.
“More, Vi.”
Vi shifted her feet out slightly on the barren ground, getting a better stance. She tried to push the other thoughts from her mind, focusing only on her magic. Her muscles tensed as she urged more power into the flames around her fingers. The moment the ball grew past three times the size of her hand, the fire became wild, barely tamed. Her magic would only extend so far while staying under her command.
“Now, protect yourself with it.”
“What?” Vi looked out to him. This was not part of their normal training regimen.
“Use the fire to push against mine, like a shield. Protect yourself.”
“I don’t think that’s—”
She didn’t have a chance to finish her thought before a wall of flame hurled toward her.
The fire passed over her, nothing more than a whisper.
Fire—naturally occurring or their own—could not hurt a Firebearer. The only fire that could singe a Firebearer’s skin was one created by another sorcerer—a more powerful sorcerer. So Vi would be fine… as long as Jax didn’t really levy his full strength against her.
“Protect yourself, Vi,” he repeated, lifting a hand. Flames crackled, rising up through thin air, binding together into another wall that he pushed toward her. These flames had a tickle to them. Nothing dangerous or uncomfortable, but more powerful than the last.
“I can’t!” Vi called back to him. But he was already moving his hand again. Another wall of flame; Vi staggered.
What was he doing? Her heart was racing. If he kept this up he would actually harm her. Would he actually harm her? Vi thought she knew the answer, but he was making a dangerous case for proving her wrong.
“Yes you can!” He was already readying another pulse of flame.
Vi gritted her teeth, clenching them so tightly her jaw popped. She dropped her eyes to her own flame and willed it to grow.
The fire swirled, condensing into a column, slowly growing in height. Vi began to sweat yet again from the mental and magical exertion. Even if she couldn’t feel heat from fire as a Firebearer, the humidity of the northern jungles did her no favors.
Like a wave crashing against her, another wall of Jax’s fire hit. Vi stumbled, knees hitting the dusty ground. The fire she had been working on completely vanished.
“I—”
“Again!” Jax shouted at her.
Why was he doing this? He had never been like this in any of their lessons before. Vi stared at him, anger singeing her chest. It made the watch feel unnaturally cool against her skin as she struggled back to her feet.
The moment she was upright, another wall knocked her back over. Vi balled her hands into fists, knuckles pushing on the rough ground. She couldn’t give up like this.
She lifted her hand, readying herself, but the next wall never came. Instead, fingers closed around her forearm, hoisting her back up. Vi swayed slightly, looking up at Jax.
“That’s enough for the day, I think,” he said gently. “Sorry for pushing you so hard. I thought it might help jostle something.”
“I… it’s fine,” Vi mumbled, looking aside. Shame took over her for every nasty thought she’d had. “I know you were only trying to help me.”
“Yes, well, I think it’s time we get that skillet cake.” Jax gave her a pat on the back and they started for the stairs.
“You go on ahead.” Vi lingered, sinking onto the bottom step.
“Vi…”
“I’m fine, uncle. Just a bit tired. Just want to catch my breath is all.” Vi twisted, looking up at him and forcing the biggest smile she could. “More like, I’m trying to sneak away to look at maps instead of skillet cakes.”
“It’s always a ploy for maps.” He started up. “You should consider joining me for breakfast, Vi. As you said, you should keep up your strength.”
“We’ll see,” Vi called back. But he was already gone.
With a soft sigh, Vi leaned against the stone, closing her eyes. Why? Why couldn’t she manage anything? Her hand closed around the watch at her neck.
So much for magic coming when she needed it. The bitter thought was the ignition strike. Her eyes shot open.
“One more time,” she whispered, knowing that it wouldn’t yield anything but hoping against hope it did.
The spark deep within her was ablaze, bright and hot. Rage fueled it—from her birthday and its reminder of how she was stuck in the North, from the leftover feelings of anger at her uncle’s test—rage at her magic itself for betraying her as it had.
Fire exploded around her hands.
Hotter, brighter—she pushed her magic as though Jax was still levying walls of flame against her. But instead of attempting to shield herself with it, Vi poured all her energy into the tiny ball in her palms. Every ounce of frustration was set ablaze, brighter than she’d ever seen her flames before.
The scales tipped without warning and magic flooded her system. Its white-hot flames roared like an unruly beast. Vi gasped as magic poured from her faster than she could find air.
Without warning, the wall had been broken down within her. This was the power she’d longed for, and now that she had it, she didn’t know what to do with it. It was as though sunlight itself had turned molten and was now pouring from her.
She stared into the bright, shifting light, her eyes blown wide, and in it, she saw a figure come into clarity. Suddenly the world she knew was gone, and something new clicked into focus.
She was no longer in Soricium, but in a stone passageway she’d never seen before.
It was akin to what she’d imagined the dungeons of Solaris to look like—damp, dark, unembellished, rough stone. But there were no cells, just a long tunnel that continued stretching into the darkness in both directions. She turned to face the source of light at her left.
Vi blinked, disoriented.
Waiting with a small ball of flame hovering over her shoulder was… herself. At least, Vi thought it was her. It looked like her, the resemblance as uncann
y as looking into a mirror. But there were notable differences. The woman across from her looked hardened, far more toned, and the natural tan hue of Vi’s skin was deepened even further on her cheeks. The large cowl hood that covered the majority of her head cast further shadow.
The woman’s clothes were drab and threadbare. Her hands were wrapped up to her elbows, like bandages, or the wrapped knuckles of a brawler. She stared into the darkness, watching, waiting.
Vi didn’t have to find out what she was waiting for.
Soon, another light appeared far in the distance. As it grew, it illuminated a man.
He had a tousled mess of black hair cut at odd angles that ultimately ended at his shoulders. No… not quite black. It was another hue—a deep plum color off-set just slightly by the light.
A wicked, sickle-shaped scar ran down his left cheek and beneath the high collar of his intricately embroidered jacket. It brought her attention to a pair of piercing green eyes. He stared from underneath long lashes, fixated on the woman.
The mirror of herself spoke, but there was no sound. It was then that Vi realized she hadn’t heard the dripping of water off the dank walls and ceiling, or the crackle of the fire over the woman’s shoulder.
The whole world was muffled. She could see, but not hear or touch.
Can you see me? Vi tried to ask, though she already knew the answer. They couldn’t. Their focus was entirely on each other. Tension filled the air nearly to the point of sparking into magic.
The man spoke and again she heard no sound. But Vi could tell by his expression that, whatever he said, it was serious.
When the woman replied, her free hand rose to her chest, touching her cowl lightly.
Vi’s hand reached upward in tandem, her fingers falling on the watch Fritz had given her.
Looking down, she saw a shimmering glyph hovering above it—weak, frail, and flickering. As soon as her eyes landed on it, the symbols shifted and changed, spiraling in concentric circles. Sounds filled her mind suddenly. It was a maddening cacophony she couldn’t understand, but desperately wanted to.