Page 36 of The Song of Sunrise (The Prentice Teller #1)

The Ribbon and the Roc

I try not to think about how bothered Castor looked when the Lord of Terraguard asked me to dance. And why is it so hot in here?

My stomach is in knots, and I cannot tell whether to be angry, upset, or nervous.

It doesn’t help that this beast has seen me naked.

I try to cast away the memories of us in the springs.

How the water droplets slid down his muscular chest in mesmerizing drips.

Or the way the steam rose slowly around the glowing water lilies that his huge hands managed to caress open with a single touch.

Stop it! I chide myself. It’s really not helpful to be having these thoughts about my enemy. His kind is responsible for what happened in Goldenpine; he is an Underling Lord, for fuck’s sake.

My mental battle is suddenly forgotten as the Lord of Terraguard places his hand on my back. My skin ripples as he lightly trails his calloused hands across my shoulder blade.

The question repeating over and over in my mind escapes me before I realize it.

“Why me?”

“Because I see you,” he says, looking at me so intently, as if I should have known his answer, his reason. “I see the fire beneath your skin. The soul hidden underneath.”

His answer startles me. How can he see me when I cannot even see myself?

I recall the singular tome relating to the Underworld that I read over solstice break. It mentioned the Underworld Lord’s power of stealing souls for his own consumption. Soul Eater, some called him. I shiver at the thought.

“So it is true? You can see our souls?”

“Yes,” is all he says as he prowls around me like a hawk circling its prey, spiraling closer and closer until it’s right above its kill.

His face is but a few inches from mine. I should be scared by his powerful frame. Instead, my lips once again move without consulting my mind first. “What do you see when you look at me?”

“A soul unlike anyone I’ve ever encountered.”

He must be mistaken. I am not a unique soul. I can barely channel Sun’cher magic and certainly don’t have a story important enough to stitch onto a Teller cloak.

The lord interrupts my thoughts. “We will begin lessons soon.”

“My lessons?” I ask.

“Yes. You are not ready for the Summit. I have seen many, sponsored the last three…” he continues on, but I pay him no mind.

“Wait, so you are over seventy-five years old? At least? But you look like you are twenty-five, thirty tops.” Oh shit. I’m sure I’m breaking a million rules. I just interrupted the Lord of Terraguard, asked him his age, then started offering my unsolicited opinion.

Get it together, Akemi.

“I’m sorry, my Lord,” I quickly amend. He might be my enemy, but I cannot afford to sever this tie. Too much is at stake.

His large hand touches my chin, so gently.

The large male is now staring at me so intently. Angry. I’ve upset him.

“Atlys, just Atlys. And never apologize for voicing your thoughts.”

“Sorr—” I try shaking off my habit of apologizing, especially to men. “I mean. Umm, thank you.”

“I will want to meet with you frequently. To ensure your proper training.”

“Yes, of course,” I agree, barely above a whisper. We stare at one another until the sound dissipates out of the room.

Or, wait, the room is silent.

“Dear royal delegates!” Commander Hogsmith announces. “I hope you were able to meet your champion, because the first task of the Summit begins tonight!”

Oh, fuck.

The floor suddenly shifts under my feet. I fall into the nothingness, trying to orient myself upward, latch on to anything, anyone. But I’m alone, falling in a blur of impossible motion as the warm orb lights of the dining hall fade to black.

I land with a curt thud, stopping the scream I didn’t know was escaping my lips. My vision fills with stars. No, those are the stars.

Sun burn me. It’s freezing, and I think I just fell on something sharp.

“Ouch,” I mumble to myself while struggling to get up from the… bush that has impaled me with multiple thorny pins? Ugh!

As I stand, my dress rips from the knee down, leaving behind a swath of shimmering gold in the bushes.

“Just great,” I mutter. It’s dark, and I’m somewhere outside.

Based on the mountains in the distance, I must be near the Watch.

My pulse races and I get my bearings. I’m in an open field, tall grasses and patches of mud littering the snow-dusted ground.

A blood curdling screech tears from the distance.

Duck! Atlys’s low, raspy voice fills my head.

I can hear a note of concern in his voice that makes me not question the connection: how he can see what’s going on and how far away he is.

Last I remember, I was in the ballroom, and now I’m outside, freezing in the open.

This is the first task of the Summit! I need to stay alert.

Now, Akemi! Atlys roars.

I throw myself forward to the muddy ground just in time as a huge blur of white nearly misses my head.

“Goddess above!” I yelp as another piercing cry fills the air.

Just barely audible over the pounding rhythm of my own heart, a crowd cheers. The cadets from the feast are watching this somehow. Atlys is watching.

Think, think . I’m in the first task. But what is it? In all of my reading about the Summit, there was always a goal or objective. Something out of the ordinary that stood out, a riddle, or a physical challenge.

I rise to my feet and observe my moonlit surroundings.

A shadowed forest of pines stretches horizontally in the distance.

I’m in the middle of a grassy field, littered with patches of mud and sour smelling lumps of shit.

What was that streak of white I saw earlier?

For good measure, I unstrap my heels so I can run faster if need be.

I’m too numb with adrenaline to register the cold.

What do I do now? Is there a clue I’m supposed to be looking for? Other than the treeline in the distance, there appears to be nothing out of the ordinary in this dark, abandoned field. I strain my ears but hear nothing beyond the gurgling of a nearby stream.

A sudden gust of wind whips strands of my hair into my face, stinging and blurring my vision.

THHHUMP !

The ground cracks at the impact of something—likely very large and very, very scary—behind me.

Oh Gods. I slowly turn, bile creeping into my throat.

Talons the size of my entire body grip into the soil, tearing the earth with ease at the bottom of the creature’s muscular feathered legs. Its body hunches forward, wings tucked in tightly to its side. Intelligent eyes refract in the dim light, yellow and large.

And staring straight at me.

I take a careful step backward. Tall strands of wheat grass tickle my calves.

The beast straightens to standing. Its feathered chest puffs as its wings spread open, beak sharp enough to break bones. The bird is four times my height.

Not a bird, a roc!

Distantly, the audience hollers and claps, somehow excited at my potential demise. Their laughter only fuels me to succeed. Think, Akemi.

I need to find cover. With no time to doubt my decision, I run toward a patch of tall grass. The roc takes flight with a massive beat of its wings, screeching so loud my eardrums ache.

I pump my legs faster, grateful for all of my training these past few months. I throw myself into the grains of wheatgrass, landing hard. My left shoulder slams into a rock and erupts with pain. I swallow my yelp, not wanting to give away my position and crouch low, grateful for the refuge.

Think, think.

My foot snags on a long stick. Perfect! I break it in half over my knee into a make-shift spear. Staying low, I run as quickly as possible, switching directions in an effort to lose the beast in the sky. My gut tells me that rocs can see incredibly well.

They wouldn’t let champions die in here, would they?

“Ow!” A jagged rock slices my foot as I fumble into shallow water. The stream!

A slimy fish brushes my calf—

THUMP!

The roc slams into the stream twenty paces away, pecking the water vigorously. It’s… fishing?

I gawk at the giant bird, and that’s when I notice it: fluttering on its ankle is a red ribbon clashing almost comically against the white of its feathers.

There is no way. This cannot be the first task. How in the stars am I going to get that from its ankle?

Another set of slimy scales scratches my leg as my toes sink farther into the murky bottom of the creek. An idea dawns. A wild, silly, and risky idea, but it is all that I have.

I stab the spear into the water, missing the fish by inches. Freezing muck squelches between my toes.

After a few more attempts, I successfully skewer two fish.

“Thank you for your sacrifice and for the sustenance you provide,” I echo the words Row would always say after a long day of fishing.

Taking a deep breath, I step out of the tall grasses, holding the spear of fish in front of me.

THUMP!

Just as I suspected, the roc slams into the ground, yellow eyes trained on the two fish still wiggling on my makeshift spear. The red ribbon flutters around its ankle.

“Um, hello,” I say, trying not to let my voice shake and step forward. “You are one pretty bird.”

The roc snaps its beak at me, but I hold my ground.

“I mean, you are a very formidable creature. Terrifying really.”

The beast puffs out its chest.

“Even the most gruesome of beasts deserve a little snack. I have these fish here for you. See?” I poke the stick forward.

The roc’s head tilts, intelligent eyes full of hunger.

“These fish could be yours soon. I just need to get a little closer.”

Another step toward its giant claw.

“What is your name?”

The roc snaps its beak.

I advance another step.

“What about Snow?” Another step. I’m so close to the ribbon. “No? Hm, what about Heru?” The name of one of the Great Watchers of the initial guild after the Breaking.

The roc lowers its head, as if accepting the name.

“Alright, Heru it is. You like fish, right?” I keep my voice low and steady. “I saw you trying to catch some earlier. I have some right here for you to eat.” With all my might, I stab the stick into the nearly frozen ground.

Heru lunges at the skewered fish, slamming its wing into my stomach so hard one of my ribs crack. I scream but push on, forcing myself to pull the delicate red ribbon free from the distracted beast’s ankle.

Distantly, an audience cheers, and my body is lurching though space and time, like it’s being pulled through the abyss between stars, floating up and up and up until I’m shivering on the cold stone floor of the ballroom, broken and muddy. Dress ripped to shreds.

“Another champion returns with the ribbon!” Hogsmith announces.

“MOVE ASIDE,” the Lord of Terraguard commands. The crowd parts for him as he approaches. His nostrils flare as he looks down at me. Wings of black mist snap open from his back. Onlookers scramble backward, away from his tempestuous energy.

I lay curled on the floor in my tattered silk dress stinking of the marshy bog, mud, and blood. Slowly, I uncurl my fingers to reveal the ribbon in my palm.

“ Akemi ,” Atlys whispers with concern. Or was that anger? I want to respond, I really do, but sleep sounds so good right now.

My vision blurs, and I fall into the peaceful darkness.