Page 84

The final trial is held on the same rooftop where Kel died.

Now it’s covered in a thin layer of snow that’s partly melting in the afternoon sun.

The moment we emerge, Luren’s eyes instantly go to the spot where her best friend took her last breath.

Mine follow, thinking of the hours of scrubbing—an act that could expunge the blood, but never her memory.

Even though Vaduin had us running drills for the past season, it was always elsewhere.

Neither of us have come up here since that day.

I rest a hand on Luren’s shoulder and whisper, “You’ll be fine.”

“Do it for her,” she repeats my words and renders me momentarily breathless. I’m back in her room, giving that advice. Back in the library as Luren repaid the favor, offering me comfort in a way no others had.

“We’ll do it for them,” I vow. I squeeze her shoulder tightly before releasing her. Luren nods. Never have I seen her more determined.

We continue moving with the other initiates, collecting at one end of the rooftop. The other students are permitted to watch this final trial—their own winter tests now complete—along with the full faculty.

And Kaelis.

My gaze snags on him. Emotions wage war in his eyes. There’s the initial flash of worry, pride tempered with fear, with admiration, too. It’s everything I’ve been wanting to see for weeks, that he kept me shut out of. Why can I see it only now? Why is he risking all of them seeing it, too?

It’s part of the game. He looks like he cares only because other people are watching. That’s all it is, I try to tell my racing heart. He wants them to see him be worried for me. All part of our never-ending ruse.

The announcement of our standings so far brings me back to the present, and I force Kaelis from my mind. I can’t allow any distractions.

I’m pleased to learn that my overall scores put me toward the top of the class.

Despite her despair, Luren is smack in the middle with Dristin.

Which means, even though she failed one of the trials, she passed her reading trial with extraordinary marks, and that should say something to the students.

Sorza continues to impress; she’s right at the top, along with Alor.

Even though Alor’s hardly looked at me throughout the trials, I can only hope she considers my assistance invaluable in helping her pass and she’ll continue looking into Clan Tower’s records as I need.

My sister is gone. But there are still so many mysteries: My mother’s death.

Silas. And so many more things for which I suspect Alor’s resources will prove invaluable in the future.

One by one, initiates are paired off and take their stances on the dueling strip.

We go three pairs at a time. No matter what, half the initiates will fail this trial.

Only one person can win each duel. Whispers lap like waves against my ears.

Somehow, even the snowfall seems loud as we collectively take a breath before Vaduin starts the first match.

Watching the other initiates gives me an opportunity to really assess everyone’s skills.

I’ve sparred enough with Sorza that there’s no need for me to study her.

But Dristin is fascinating: his manner of wielding is direct but almost delicate in its fluidity—no wasted energy.

Alor is as pointed as I would expect; she uses only a few cards but with lethal precision.

I’m not surprised that I am in the last group to step into the arena.

Luren is with me off to the side, against Fyrn.

And, just as he promised he would be, Eza’s the one to move opposite me.

On my way to my position, I catch another glimpse of Kaelis.

His throat tightens with a hard swallow. I fight a knowing smile.

No need to worry, I have this, I try to say with a reassuring look.

Do you? his stare questions.

I’m somewhere between wanting to scold him for his worry and reassure him that it will all be all right.

It’s been a long time since someone new in my world looked at me with that much worry.

My star-crossed family have been constants for so long in my life that I know they care.

It’s not a question. But everyone else has been a chasm away.

I’ve never let anyone else get close enough to have worry for me alight in their eyes.

With one final reassuring smile thrown Kaelis’s way, I shift my stance and turn to fully face Eza.

The world begins and ends in our dueling ring.

Everything else has been consumed by our mutual loathing, rendered inconsequential.

My fingers itch at the sensation of my power building inside me.

The deck is strapped to my thigh and feels three times heavier than usual.

“Are you ready?” Eza asks.

“More than you are, I suspect.” I crack my knuckles. “How’s your jaw?”

His arrogant smirk drops into a scowl. It only causes me to smile wider. The hate between us could ignite the snow. My breath catches and I hold it, every muscle taut.

Vaduin’s voice rings out as if he’s speaking to us and us alone. “Begin!”

We simultaneously spring into action.

Eza immediately goes for the Ace of Wands.

A ball of fire shoots from the deck at his hip.

Given his Major, I’d expected him to try to play some mental game.

But I’m happy to meet him blow for blow.

If I didn’t still have to hold myself back to keep up the ruse of being like any other initiate, I’d counter with the Seven of Wands—a shield.

Instead, I cast the Four of Coins. Four discs of golden light surround me, swirling upward. The snow turns to a rainstorm, soaking our arena and snuffing the flames before they can reach me.

Eza is as quick to respond as I knew he would be, casting the Ace of Cups to give him control over water. With a swing of his arm, the rain stops midair. What I wasn’t expecting was for the raindrops to condense into spears of ice.

Shit.

He hurls the ice my way. The Three of Wands bursts from my thigh. I use the heat of the card igniting to block the initial wave, then try to levy the safety in travel that the card grants me to dance around the rest of his assault.

As I dodge, I use the Four of Cups. Fog condenses around his head, slowing his movements. Eza tries to shake it off but staggers. I crouch and press an Ace of Cups of my own into the ground. The rainwater crackles and freezes, creeping up his ankles.

Without pausing, I cast the Five of Swords, hand closing around the familiar grip of a blade that immediately cries out for blood. I lunge fast enough that even Eza seems surprised, given the widening of his eyes. The shock grants him enough clarity that another card launches from his deck.

It’s the Ace of Coins—well played by him. Pointed columns of stone rise from the rooftop. I dance around them, but one catches my calf. I stumble and let out a shout.

The students shout and cheer. Just like at the Chalice ceremony, they want a show. They delight in pain and bloodshed.

Gritting my teeth, I push through the agony, closing the gap between me and Eza. Blood splatters the snow as I lunge. My blade hits its mark, but only as a glancing blow. Eza has summoned a sword of his own. Hilt to hilt, we struggle. It’s now a battle both of magic and of physical strength.

“You really think you can beat me,” he snarls, “trash like you?”

“I don’t think, I know. ”

He frees one of his hands from the grip of his blade. This allows me to gain control. But as I go for another swing, I see the Five of Coins rise from his deck. There’s barely time to register what’s happening before my sword vanishes.

Eza twirls his sword through the air, and I dance back to the gasps and cheers of the students and faculty. I’m too distracted by dodging his swings to notice the next card until it’s too late.

The Ace of Wands is a blast of fire, white-hot and blinding. He uses it as a shield. I can catch only a glimpse of what follows because of my proximity to him.

The Eight of Cups bursts with an unseen wave that crashes against me, as cold as the waters around Halazar.

I stagger. He used the Ace of Wands to hide casting an upper card.

Damn it. I hadn’t been expecting him to dare use a card above a five.

A grave oversight, especially since I hadn’t thought of how I might be able to do the same.

What did he take from me? The Eight of Cups removes knowledge of something—like a fact, or a skill—for a short period of time.

I find out as Eza swings again. My steps are clumsy. My body refuses to respond as it once did. All thoughts of counterattacks are gone.

Bastard! It takes every bit of my control not to just give up on the ruse and use all the cards I’ve inked over the past seven and a half months. But I know the second I do, he’ll call attention to it. He’ll use any such action on my part to cast doubt on me.

His fist lands hard and I’m sent spinning.

I think I hear him say, “Payback.” Blood dribbles from my split lip as he charges in again, this time with his blade.

I try to dodge. It’s clumsy but successful.

Another attack, another strike. I’m a mess in the dueling ring until this magic wears off or I can cast something to—

“Forfeit, Redwin.” Vaduin interrupts my thoughts. “That’s enough.”

Bastard . I grit my teeth.

“Yes, forfeit!” Eza laughs with a crazed glint in his eyes as he lunges again. The sword clips my arm this time and I stagger back, gripping the wound. The whole crowd reacts with gasps and cheers as he stalks toward me once more.

“I’m not done yet.” While I no longer have the knowledge of how to fight well in hand-to-hand combat, I can still use my cards.

But what can I do that I haven’t already?

I cast the Four of Swords, stitching up the skin of my calf, then another for my arm.

It’s a pathetic mending compared to what the Queen of Cups can do, but it’s a start.

“We’ll see about that.” Eza adjusts his stance. He’s getting ready for another assault.

In a duel like this, I can’t beat Eza with raw power, not while I’m limited in what cards I can use and he’s not playing by the same rules. And I can’t beat him with physical skill, since he took that from me.

So a brutal, chaotic, overwhelming assault is all that’s left.

The Two of Coins allows an Arcanist to sustain the magic of two cards at once.

It’s an essential card for most Arcanists that I rarely need to use, given my innate skills.

But I quickly let three copies of the Two of Coins fly, stacking the ability for the sake of those watching so that way they don’t suspect any of my talents. Hopefully.

Eza is too committed to his attack to notice, or care.

Aces.

I cast all the Aces.

Vines shoot up from the ground, wrapping around his hands. The Five of Swords blade clatters from his grip. Ice freezes his ankles. Fire singes his arms, burns at his ears. Wind whips around his face, pulling tears from his eyes. Every element rages simultaneously.

Now I summon the Five of Wands, which sows confusion. I double down on the assault as exhaustion creeps into my bones.

Eza is helpless and trapped. One more summoned blade. One last Five of Swords in my deck.

I stalk over to him, keeping a firm grip on my power. Balling my hand into a fist, I pull it down, as if I’m grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and yanking him into a kneeling position. My exhaustion nearly has me collapsing as well. But I stay on my feet, looming over him.

“Yield,” I demand.

“Never,” he growls. Eza manages a twitch of his fingers, and that’s all it takes for the Five of Cups to cloud my mind.

Thoughts of Arina dying alone, screaming in pain, overwhelm me.

I hear my sister: We’re going to find Mother’s killer together.

We will get those royal bastards together; I’ll be with you until the end.

The overwhelming grief I feel at all the promises unkept is followed by the memory of Bristara’s worries about Kaelis: He’s deceiving you. Keeping secrets. He’ll betray you.

Even as my fears and doubts swirl, I hold fast to my sword. I keep my focus on maintaining the elements that hold him trapped in submission. I raise the blade.

Eza sees the movement. “You…How?”

I know what he’s asking even as he can’t finish the words. “I doubt the world around me. I fear what I can’t control. But I do not doubt myself, and I do not fear the one thing I have power over: me.” I bring the blade to his throat.

“But, but… I took away your ability to fight.”

“I don’t need to know how to fight to end you. It doesn’t take skill to kill a man on his knees.” I drag the tip of the weapon across his cheek. The Five of Swords won’t vanish until it tastes blood. Now I can dismiss it at will. “Yield, or die.”

“That’s enough!” Vaduin’s voice cuts through, begrudging and heavy. “Lady Clara Redwin is victorious.”