Page 57

Perhaps on any other day, Rico would have had more to say.

Today, however, there was too much to be done.

They finished their coffee as they, too, moved down the stairs and through the kitchen, then out the doors that led to the ocean.

Others were already there, carting chairs and setting them up in neat lines.

Seidon joined a few men who were putting the dais together, carrying the podium up and positioning it into the hole in the center once it was complete.

The pedestal of crystal had a hollow core, and he lowered the whole piece until it hit sand and then dug in a few inches.

Rico handed him the crystal Awakening bowl, and Seidon fitted it to the top of its base, making certain its own openings lined up properly.

One way to know for sure, of course. He summoned the water up through the sand, through the pedestal, and into the bowl, teasing it into a fountain whose spray mirrored the one at the palace for a moment, just for the fun of it.

Rico chuckled. “Show off.”

Seidon let the water settle back down, first filling and then emptying again from the bowl. “Has Enoch arrived yet?” A priest was always present for the Ceremony, and Enoch was currently the highest-ranking in the region, which granted him the honor of presiding over whichever he preferred.

“Just landed,” Storm’s mother said, hustling over with a crystal in hand, which she held out to her brother. “Finalized list, ordered as you requested.”

Rico would serve as the master of ceremonies.

He would be the one to read each name, listed in order of residency of the candidate, from the farthest in this district to the one nearest where they stood—Arden.

It had been customary for a millennium for the High Guardian of each region to present their own children last, whenever they were in an Awakening Ceremony.

He didn’t honestly know why, but he’d seen no reason to change the tradition through his own tenure as king.

“What’s the final count?” he asked Rico, who snapped the crystal into his reader and scrolled through the projected list.

“One hundred fourteen.”

Fewer than there would be in larger districts, but even so, it meant hours standing on the dais…largely because he insisted on speaking for a moment with each young man or woman. Hence why they began so early in the morning, before the heat of the sun could make them uncomfortable.

He checked the time on the display. Twenty minutes until the Ceremony would begin, which meant the families would be arriving any moment.

He nodded to Rico and his sister and hurried back to the house to change into his own more formal clothing.

It only took him a few minutes, and he returned to the kitchen as Arden and Sapphire entered.

He let out a whistle just to watch Arden’s cheeks go red. He’d known, of course, that the dress he’d had made for her would fit like a dream and make his own mouth go dry. He just hadn’t known exactly how it would look.

Amazing. It was a pale, silvery blue, filmy sleeves nearly off the shoulder and fluttering loosely to her elbow, the fitted bodice showcasing her lithe frame and the long skirt promising to swirl around her mile-long legs in the breeze. He held out a hand.

She moved toward him, even as her grinning stepmother ordered, “No kissing her, Your Majesty. It took me twenty minutes to convince her to wear color on her lips, I won’t have you taking it off.”

Chuckling, he settled for taking her hand and raising it to his mouth, pressing a long kiss to her knuckles. “You look nearly as beautiful as you do when you dismount from Ora, your hair all wild and gorgeous and your leathers looking like a second skin.”

Arden sighed. “Why do you have to be so perfect?”

He winked and wove her arm around his, turning them both toward the door. Rico met them there to escort Sapphire, and soon they were in the throng of other families.

There were ushers to see each candidate to their assigned seat, but Seidon bypassed them and led Arden straight to hers, since there was no question as to which seat it was. The one closest to the podium but farthest from the aisle, right beside Storm.

“I still think you could have at least worn your crown,” she muttered, smoothing a hand down her silk nervously.

“I told you,” he replied, voice quiet and teasing, “weddings and state funerals. So if you want to see me in my crown, you just need to agree to marry me.”

Her gaze whipped from left to right, clearly afraid someone had heard. But there was so much chatter, he knew very well no one had. So he kissed her hand again, delivered her into her chair with a bow, and gave her a wink as he turned to the dais.

Once everyone had taken their seats, Jericho welcomed all the young people and families and officially introduced Seidon, then stepped back to allow him to speak.

“Today, we celebrate the futures of these one hundred fourteen bright young lives,” Seidon said, projecting his voice so it would reach all the gathering.

“Some among this group will have magic in their blood—some will be the recessive traits coming forward after generations of dormancy, sparking up and calling the individual to things they hadn’t dared to dream.

Others may have a strong, new magic, made from the meeting of our world with the mer’s.

Because the Triada rewards the unity he designed for us.

He gives blessing where love conquers bias and prejudice.

He sends power where it will be used to protect. ”

As was his role, he lifted a hand and brought the waves roaring up, dancing, twirling, making a show that had everyone gasping and clapping as sunlight arrowed through droplets and cast rainbows all over the assembly.

He let the water ease back into its usual ebb and flow.

“Most of you, however,” he said, angling toward the young people, “will not be Awakened today. You will find, as your blood stains the water, that you possess no magic—but you each still have the touch of the Triada in your soul. You each have talents and gifts given by his generous hand.” He reached out and clapped a hand to Rico’s shoulders.

“Over forty years ago, your own High Guardian was in your place. His drop of blood spread out in a way that proclaimed him unmagical. But he declared on that day that he would serve Daryatla with every natural strength the Triada had given him—and he proved, as so many others have done, that he needed no magic to be one of the best officers this kingdom has ever known.”

He paused to sweep his gaze over first the young people and then their families, sitting opposite them on the other side of the dais.

“Whether magical or not, today marks the day when your choices are laid before you. Whether you are Awakened or Unawakened, will you serve? Or will you pursue your other passions and dreams? That choice is yours. All of you will have the choice of universities or careers, of Guardian training, or of starting your own families. What your blood proclaims today will only be one piece of information to help you decide. Whatever you choose, I invite you to remember that you are exactly who the Triada created you to be. Seek his will above all, and you will do great things—for his kingdom, and then for ours.”

He stepped to the bowl and lifted the gleaming Blade that Enoch had brought with him. “Let the Ceremony begin!”

Enoch moved into his place, a towel over his arm, ready to dry any who were Awakened—the only ones who would have to dip their finger into the bowl.

Rico moved into his own position, his crystal’s display in the air before him.

He called for the back row to stand and move forward, calling out the first name.

“Lilith Gray.” A young woman stepped forward, the breeze rustling her pink dress and teasing hair from her braid.

Her hands were shaking as she lifted her right one and presented it to him, palm up, fingers extended. He gave her an encouraging smile. “Ready?” he asked softly, the word not meant to carry beyond the dais.

A fleeting smile was the only answer she gave.

Seidon moved his left hand under hers, moved his right until the Blade touched her finger, and waited for the blood to well up. He set the Blade into its holder so it could be sanitized while he guided her hand over the bowl and turned it upside down. The blood dripped into the water.

A cloud, no flourishes or swirls of magic. Her shoulders sagged. Relief? Disappointment? He couldn’t know.

But he smiled and pressed one of the many small squares of gauze beside the bowl to her finger. “What dreams will you chase, Lilith Gray?”

Her smile stayed steady on her lips this time. “I have my application in at university. I want to be a history teacher.”

“A fine dream. Our children always need worthy men and women to guide them, and knowing our history is our only hope of walking wisely forward. I wish you all the best.”

She stepped away as he flushed and refilled the bowl, and a young man was called forward, then the next, and the next.

They were to number twenty-three before Seidon saw the first stirring of magic in the water, from a young man with dark hair curling to his shoulders and eyes as green as peridots who Rico had called Ryder Mallow.

It was a strong flourish, signaling that this wasn’t a recessive trait—this was new magic, fresh and fierce.

Seidon met Ryder’s eyes, smiling. He saw no surprise in the other’s eyes. This one knew who his parents were. He knew that this had been likely. He’d wanted it.

Sometimes that boded well for an Awakened Guardian. Sometimes it made for someone too arrogant, too proud. They would see which way this young man leaned.

Seidon lowered Ryder’s finger into the bowl, and a murmur moved through the crowd. He then lifted the Blade high—meant to gain any attention that had wandered—before opening his own finger. He didn’t let the blood well and drop, just lowered it directly into the water.

His blood curled out, twined through Ryder’s, danced its way to the young man’s finger.

“Brace yourself,” he warned in a low whisper. “It feels like fire.”

Ryder nodded, went stiff, but even so, the moment Seidon’s blood touched his open wound, he drew in a sharp breath, his spine snapping straight.

“Ryder Mallow,” Seidon said loudly, “you have been Awakened. The magic that the Blade enabled has now been activated by my own. The Triada has given you a great gift—but still it is up to you how you use it. Do you know, my young friend, where you wish to go?”

Ryder’s gaze locked with his. “I will be trained, Your Majesty. I will protect our people. I will be a Guardian, as long as you will have me.”

Praise the Triada. His own finger tingled with this one’s blood—strong magic indeed.

“Daryatla thanks you. I thank you.” Softer he added, “Return to your seat. Celebrate with your family at the reception. We’ll have a crystal ready for you before its close, giving you instruction on when to report to the palace. ”

Ryder nodded, eyes alight. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

Seidon nodded too. “I look forward to seeing you grow in strength and ability.”

He held his finger in the water a moment more, until the wound healed over. And then he flushed, refilled. There were still nearly a hundred candidates to go.