Page 117 of The Devil May Care

He studies me for a long moment. “That sounds like the Rite.”

That catches me off guard. “The Rite?”

He nods. “You stand before fire and let it see everything. All you are. No masks. No hiding. And if it chooses you, if you prove yourself worthy, you rise.”

I swallow. “But if not?”

He looks down, brushing his thumb lightly over my knuckles. “Then you are still seen. And that is not nothing.”

And somehow, the map between us feels less like a lesson in borders and more like an invitation.

He turns back to teacher then. Putting his right hand back on the center of the parchment. I try not to stare at him, not after baring my soul the way I did. I trace the lines of each finger with my eyes. His skin seems to shimmer over his knuckles. I blink.

“The true ruler of Crimson cannot simply command its Flame. They must know how to resist, adapt to, or outwit the other Realms. Infernalis is presently at peace, but we can’t have a leader that is susceptible to the magic threads of the other realms. Just like they don’t want a ruler who would fall to the flame. Each trial tests a different quality. Strength is only one.”

My mind races ahead. “So, the next trial—”

“Obsidian comes first. Sorrow before all,” he says.

That sobers me. Obsidian. Sarai mentioned them days ago. What did she say again? The realm of grief and memory?

“What does that even mean for a trial?”

“No one ever knows. That’s the point.” He closes the map and replaces it with a parchment covered in scrawled Daemari runes, each one annotated in his firm, angular handwriting. “Obsidian doesn’t break you with force. It asks. Reminds. Demands you carry weight you thought long buried.”

“It’s emotional.”

He nods. “Or worse. It can feel like being submerged. Lost.”

I wrap my arms around myself, suddenly cold despite the heat still rising off my bruised skin. “Like a dream.”

He’s quiet for a beat too long. “For some it is.”

He doesn’t have to tell me that for most it’s a nightmare. When I look up, he’s watching me. Not studying—not this time. Just… watching. Something in the shape of it twists through me, low and hot.

“This isn’t the part you usually do, is it?” I ask.

He leans back slightly, just enough that his tunic pulls against his chest. “No. I’m rarely the teacher.”

“Why me?”

Caz is silent again, longer this time. Then, very quietly: “Because I want you to live.”

The words settle over the table like smoke. Heavy. Unapologetic. Not a hope. A want. His.

I swallow. “Well. That makes one of us.”

“You don’t want to survive?”

“I’m not sure it’s an option.” My voice cracks before I can catch it. “I’m not exactly impressive with a blade. Not after only days.”

“You may not need to fight, but all Daemari have some weaponry training. Each trial begins when you step through the gate. It ends when you find your way out. The realm will try to stop that from happening. Any way it can. Using any tools at its disposal. It’s trying to outsmart you. To overpower you. To trap you. And each trial will be timed. You’ll have one hour.” He reaches across the table, resting his hand near mine. “The Flame branded you for a reason Kay, there’s something you need to show Crimson and its people in the arena, whether we understand or not. It has to be my faith that you will walk out the other end.”

The air tightens between us. I look down at his hand, the blunt strength of his fingers, the slow curl of tension in his forearm. My fingers twitch and he covers my hand with his. Hot. Solid. The silence between us hums with warmth, but it doesn’t last. Caziel lifts his hand from mine slowly—like he doesn’t want to break the contact—and reaches for the scroll again. The map of the realms stretches across the stone bench, the colors vivid even in the low light.

“If I don’t make it out,” I clear my throat, the words feel stuck there, like a hard piece of something I swallowed too fast. “I die? But if I do, I’m safe?”

Caziel shakes his head. “It’s a bit more complicated than that. If you don’t make it out in the allotted time it is not a death sentence, but the realms can and often are violent. You can very well die in them. Manyhave. Anyone who completes the trial in the allotted time is then ranked by the Flame.”