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Like a fire catching, my hope rises as the aisthekis’s inner flame flares and strengthens.

Will it be enough to soothe its wounds? I watch carefully and notice the flow of blood from its eyes slowing, then coming to a stop.

The smoke drifting from its slack jaws dissipates, and I think for a second I see a golden light shining from within the depths of its open mouth. Then its pincers twitch.

It’s alive.

I don’t untangle its legs just yet. This creature is still dangerous, and I don’t need it charging at me again, but I know it’s turned a corner when its eyes open, looking around alertly.

Then something goes very wrong.

The spider’s eyes roll back, and it starts to shudder violently, like it’s been attacked. Before I can reach back out to see what’s happening with its celestial flame, it stops moving entirely.

“Ah, that is unfortunate indeed,” Respen’s voice calls down from the gallery. “It seems you could not revive it in time, Princess Morgana.”

Bullshit.

I healed it, I know did—pulled it back from the brink of death. So why does it look like it’s dying all over again? I take a step closer to the creature, looking for signs, and that’s when I feel it.

An icy cold is emanating from its skin. The aisthekis is freezing. I reach out a hand and feel a bubble of frigid air flowing over it.

This is sabotage. But if I start shouting about it now without proof, Respen might just accuse me of trying to cheat on the test—and in the meantime the aisthekis will die.

“If you’ll just give me a moment, Your Majesty,” I call to him. “These things can take time.”

I try to ignore the throbbing of my torn-up shoulder as I quickly search the gallery. I don’t have a lot of time. A sea of faces look curiously down at me—and I notice one missing.

Velrir’s moved. He’s no longer sitting beside Respen.

Instead, he has relocated closer to the edge of the gallery, with his eyes focused intently on the aisthekis.

He must be an aesteri, and I have no doubt he’s trying to finish off my new spider friend.

Well, he’s going to be disappointed. I’m going to pass this test fair and square.

There’s not much in the gallery I can work with. But there are a few of Velrir’s guards nearby, in their fancy armor. Including swords.

I thank the gods for all those lessons with Gallis, the drills where she made me orbit things a hundred times in increasingly complicated patterns.

It means that as I send one of the guard’s blades swiveling through the air, I don’t have to worry about it hitting anyone else.

Still, it creates a commotion, and that’s exactly what I want.

The guard who’s just lost his sword shouts a warning, and a fae lady squeals.

Velrir is forced to look away from the arena and duck as the sword flies past him, clattering to the floor of the gallery.

I throw a look at Leon, and his eyes widen with understanding. He nods, and I know he’ll make sure Velrir’s occupied and unable to use his power on the aisthekis, at least for the next few seconds. Voices rise and argue above me as the fae try to sort out what happened. Meanwhile, I get to work.

I tentatively touch a hand to the creature’s thick hide.

The bubble of cool air around it is gone, but it’s already done its damage.

The hide is still freezing cold. I could try reviving its inner flame again, but since this isn’t caused by celestial magic, I worry it won’t be enough to save the aisthekis unless I can bring its body temperature up quickly.

The thing is, I have heat at my fingertips. My sun beams are far too hot to use on most creatures. But the aisthekis’s hide protected it from my sun beams before, and that might actually be a good thing.

My shoulder stings, and I’m utterly exhausted, but I have to keep going.

Something nudges my thigh, and I look down to see the korigos looking up at me with its golden eyes.

Just like last night, a bright clarity washes over me.

Suddenly, it’s easy to marshal my strength and concentrate. I lift my hands.

I conjure sunlight to my palms, then split it into the tiniest rays I can manage.

Next, I lower my fingers to hover just above the aisthekis’s hide, and the beams spread over it.

I saw Gallis do something like this my first day at the Lyceum.

I can’t claim this will be as pretty as that, but the principle is the same.

The rays form a cage of light, enveloping the aisthekis from its head to the point of its thorax. I watch as the warmth of my rays seeps into it. As it thaws the creature down to its core, I keep an eye on its inner flame, monitoring the spark as it starts to grow.

The chatter above me dies down, and I glance up to see the fae focused on me once more. There’s a gasp from someone near the front, and I look back to the spider to see its eyes blinking open once again.

I never thought I’d be so glad to see that monstrous set of twelve eyes swiveling toward me, but I am.

I check its inner flame. It’s a little weak after the battering it’s taken, but the light is solid and constant.

Satisfied, I retract my rays. This terrifying monster is going to be okay, and I realize I’m happy—not just because I passed this test, but because it certainly didn’t deserve to die just to prove a point for Respen.

Dropping my hands and stepping back, I look triumphantly up into the gallery. Velrir is back in his seat beside Respen looking pissed. The fae king does a better job of hiding his response. Either way, it’s time to claim my victory.

“I think you’ll find the aisthekis will be just fine now,” I call up to them. “Although, I’d appreciate if someone could come get me out of this arena. You know, so I can untangle its legs without my head getting bitten off.”