Page 45
Story: Shadow and Smite
I really didn’t want to deal with whatever lay beneath that iron sheet. That power seemed dangerous, like a lit fuse creeping toward its inevitable blast. A bolt of lightning ready to strike when all I wanted was tolive.All my life I thought I wanted magic, but power like that could kill me.
Besides, it probably wasn’t about me. Right? I was just making assumptions. It ached to imagine the twisted roots, growing on a hilltop unsuited for such a beautiful tree.
That couldn’t have been about me. I shoved my suspicions down deep. I made a mental promise to avoid gnomes in the future—and never let them anywhere near my mind.
Slowly, feeling a little more like myself, I focused on the task ahead. “Two doors left.”
“Air or water?” Zayne asked.
“Water will be last.” Water was cold and wet, like snow and mountains. It was damp, like tears. I would rather take my chances with air.
He motioned to the door. “When you’re ready.”
Yet I hesitated, cautious about barging through another door. Confidence had driven me after defeating the drake, but whatever those gnomes had done…
Zayne saw my hesitation, my doubt. He raised a brow, curious. Suddenly, I felt far more naked than when he applied the ashflower. I wanted to be brave and heroic. Now he knew I wasn’t.
“Ayla, you’re doing great,” he said. “You didn’t need my support to face the gnomes. Ninti chose you for a reason—youcancomplete this trial.”
Heencouragedme.
My family never did that. My family watched silently from a balcony while I trained on the fields. The Southern Watch cheered for me, as teammates do. Yet, I had been different—a fae, a royal. Their future leader.
I wanted to hate Zayne for his kindness, but his encouragement warmed my aching heart.
Zayne understood me in a way no one else had. Even Rhett couldn’t grasp how my family played into my identity. With Zayne, I could piece myself together. Angry and playful. Daring and willful. Tenderhearted, though I tried to hide it. He understood all of it. He sawme.
The realization terrified me. I was trusting him too fast—
I needed Ninti. Shoulders back, I pushed down the third door.
The air trial was straightforward. It wasn’t easy—my palms were sweaty the entire time, but at least there were no battles or visions.
The trial took place on the rooftop of a floating building. Looking over the edge, I could see the aqua sea far below.
Five air masters instructed me to stand in the center of a large circle. They surrounded me, four griffins and one sphinx.
They asked me many, many questions.
“When did the Dusk Court move its capital?”
“Who is the prince of the Dawn Court? Please also name his partner.”
“What resource is Wisp known for?”
My education had been far more concerned with Valterra than the Isles. I wasn’t exactly prepared for this sort of interrogation.
Yet every time I answered wrong, they corrected me without chastisement. The air masters could talk and talk, giving mini lessons to answer their own questions. The lessons were worth paying attention to—sometimes they helped me answer a different question.
For a while, I answered more questions wrong than I did right. My palms grew sweaty.
My luck changed when I mentioned I was from Valterra. A few of the air masters expressed an interest in the kingdom, and they wanted to know everything—from geography to culture to history.
Those were questions I could answer.
I hadn’t been a great student. I could strategize moving parts, but I couldn’t study for hours. In the classroom, I would grow twitchy and start tapping rhythms against my desk, annoying the tutors until they let me run to the training grounds. Yet I still had a wealth of knowledge compared to the air masters, who seemed contained in the Isles of Fae.
Their questioning seemed to go on for hours, and I lost track of time, lost in a haze of doubt and concern. Anxiety buzzed through my body—Would they pass me? What waited beyond the water door?—but in time, even that faded to fatigue.
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