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niara

I tripped three times racing away from the beast’s cage, the echo of its voice still reverberating in my mind. It wasn’t possible, was it? This savage creature that had emerged out of the volcano and whom we had subdued could speak telepathically? Nothing about this made sense.

I needed to find someone I could talk to.

I wasn’t certain of the wardens’ schedules, but I raced to the bunk Safina had pointed out to me and peeked my head in the doorway.

Several women slept soundly on their pallets, but my best friend’s, covered by one of the two poorly crocheted blankets we’d made as teens that she took on every assignment, was empty.

I turned to leave and bumped into a taller figure entering the tent.

Safina was wrapped in a bathing sheet, having just come from the bathhouse. She grabbed my shoulders to halt my escape .

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost, Niara.”

“I need to talk to you.”

Whatever she saw in my face made her expression grow serious. “Two minutes,” she said, and raced inside to dress. When she reemerged, she took me gently by the arm and marched me several feet away, where we couldn’t be overheard.

“What happened?”

I told her about the dreams, of waking up and finding myself at the creature’s cage, of removing the shard of magefrost from its back, and then of what it said to me.

As I spoke, nothing in her expression changed, but I knew her well enough to recognize the tiny signs of amazement and concern in the crinkling of her eyes.

“You’re certain it wasn’t some kind of trick?”

“What kind of trick would it be? And even if it was, if the creature is intelligent enough to trick me in this way, it’s not the mindless monster that we should be carting off to the tournament to be killed.

” My breathing was fast and my heart rate elevated.

“We should try to talk with it, parlay or something.”

Safina pulled at the end of one of the thick cornrows her hair had been wrangled into and looked out into the distance. “You should take this to High Warden Amal. He will know what to do. They might even call a conference over it so that the Archons can discuss.”

I nodded. “Yes, that makes sense. I don’t want to burden High Priestess Valya, since she already has so much on her plate. I’ll speak with Amal in the morning.”

“He plans to sail with Valya tomorrow, anyway,” Safina advised .

“Thank you for listening to me.” I opened my arms, and she pulled me into an embrace.

“Always,” she said. “We are sisters by choice, not by blood, and I will always be here to listen to you. If you would just go to warden training, we could serve together.”

I pulled away and shook my head, then tugged the end of one of her braids.

“Not having this discussion again. You know my Fluidhand skills are terrible, and I can’t conjure a magefrost blade to save my life.

” Though she was a head taller and several stones heavier than me, our bond created as orphans was solid.

It would have been nice to serve the Order together, but there was no area of magecraft that I hadn’t failed terribly at.

I trudged back to my pallet behind Valya’s tent and dragged it into the kitchen staff’s quarters, not wanting to sleep alone that night. Then, I fell into a fitful sleep—without the erotically charged dreams I’d had before, but still hearing echoes of a powerful voice rumbling in my head.

The rising wind whipped my hair back, causing the beads at the ends of my many braids to tinkle.

I lifted my head to the mother and daughter suns to feel their warmth on my skin as the ship pitched gently beneath my feet.

The deck swayed in a lulling rhythm that was slowly becoming familiar to me.

Breathing deeply of the salt-laden air, I willed calmness into my bones.

Day three was a travel day with no eclipse until the wee hours of the morning. The flotilla traveled at a sedate pace, slicing through the azure waters, the route mapped out carefully to ensure we would be in the visible range of each celestial event on the proper day.

Since breakfast, the Archons had been in private conference with one another, and I’d been patiently waiting. Shortly before lunch, Amal emerged from the High Priestess’s cabin. I stood so swiftly from my place outside the door to greet him that my head swam. He grabbed my arm to steady me.

“Thank you,” I said, basking a bit in the light of his gleaming smile.

“Niara.” His voice glided over my skin. “I was hoping to catch up with you.”

“Really? There’s also something I need to speak with you about.”

“Come.” He led me down the steps below deck and over to a quiet nook with a portal window looking out into the waters of the sea. Once we were seated, I began my tale with no preamble.

I left out some details, such as the nature of the dreams and the fact that I removed the magefrost shard from the beast’s shoulder, telling him instead that the creature spoke to me as I passed by on a late-night walk to clear my head.

Amal’s brows furrowed as he listened. “You’re saying the beast spoke to you in your mind?”

“Yes. And it was intelligent, almost cultured, like it had been educated. I don’t think it’s the feral creature that we’ve assumed. I believe we need to try to parlay with it. Perhaps it can tell us why I can hear it and others can’t. Or maybe it’s just that no one else has listened.”

Amal drummed his fingers on his thickly muscled thigh, gaze never leaving my face. “Thank you for bringing this to me, Niara. You’ve spoken to Valya already?”

I shook my head. “She’s been so burdened by the extra pull of maintaining the cage and performing all the rituals. I didn’t want to bother her with it. Since it’s a security matter, I thought it best to bring it to you.”

“Very wise.” He moved his hand to pat my thigh in a comforting manner. “And compassionate of you. I must say, though, I think we should keep this between us for now.”

“Really?”

His expression turned solemn. “You have one more acolyte trial remaining, is that correct?”

I dropped my head. An acolyte had only six times in which to undergo the trials to become a priest or priestess.

After my fifth failure, Valya had installed me as the First Tidemaiden so that I could increase my skills over the solar revolution of service and attack the next test with more confidence.

I had no idea if passing at this point was even possible; it seemed my magecraft grew worse and worse the more I tried.

I had not totally given up on the dream, but it was near death.

Amal squeezed my thigh gently. “You cannot predict who will be a judge at the trials, and I would hate for anyone who hears of this unusual connection you have to the fire beast to have any cause for concern about you.”

My shoulders tensed. I hadn’t thought of it like that.

“For the sake of your future, I’m glad that you kept this with me. And I will keep your confidentiality. I hope you know I have the highest regard for you, Niara.”

My cheeks heated. Under his hand, my thigh grew warmer as well. “Why?” I couldn’t help but asking. “I’m no one and nothing.”

“That isn’t true, Niara, and you know it. Your compassion is a credit to Morros. You are deeply loyal, effortlessly kind, and generous.”

I wanted to add to his list the stream of complaints I usually heard about my personality—how my temper was too spirited, my anger unruly.

I’d been working so hard on keeping these undesirable qualities under wraps, but they bubbled below the surface, never fully cleansed.

It was part of the reason why my trials had failed.

“I have great admiration for you,” Amal continued.

“As I hope I have communicated. It is my most ardent hope that we can deepen our acquaintance.” His hand slowly stroked my leg as he spoke.

The sensation wasn’t unpleasant, and a tremulous ache in my chest punctuated his movement.

Dark eyes were fixed on me, a seductive quality to his gaze.

“I’m... incredibly flattered,” I said, suddenly finding it hard to breathe. “But it’s nearly luncheon, and I had better go and see to the High Priestess.”

He nodded serenely and removed his hand from me. “Until we meet again.”

I stood, trying not to appear flustered or like I was escaping. Instead, I effected a sedate pace as I retreated, his inviting expression lingering in my mind, my skin where he’d touched me through my skirt prickling with cold.