Chapter 26
Twenty-Six
T he stone seats of the Aeriel Coliseum dug into Alaire’s legs as she waited for the Nocturne Crucible to begin. She crossed, then uncrossed her legs.
“Eager or nervous?” Kaia knocked her knee against Alaire’s.
“A little of both. Always a little of both.”
“ I take offense at you being nervous .”
Alaire cut off her connection to Solflara, unweaving the strands of their mental bond. She needed to get her head in the right space. She’d absorb Solflara’s overbrimming confidence later.
“How about you?” Alaire glanced at Kaia’s relaxed posture.
“Nah. Not sweating it. I trust Hadrian.” Kaia shrugged. “I’ve done the training. Either I’ll pass or I won’t. Twisting myself into a pretzel won’t change that,” she said, giving Alaire a pointed look. “But come on—look at who we’re bonded to. No one else stands a chance.”
Unfailingly optimistic.
“You’re right. As always.”
“Pfft. I’m insulted you even doubted my sage words of wisdom. You should know better by now.”
Alaire kicked off the fine sand clinging to her boots, watching the grains scatter in a brief rainstorm.
Kaia leaned forward, peering past her to Archer. “How about you, Archer?”
“I’m quite thrilled. There’s nothing like the prospect of circumnavigating undisclosed terrain, surviving Lysia knows what, using moves we’ve only tried under an instructor’s eye, all in the dead of night.
And one can’t forget the allure of potential embarrassment in front of the administration.
A right-on good time, if I’ve ever heard of one. ”
Kaia and Alaire burst out laughing. Whatever tumbled out of Archer’s mouth always seemed to lift their spirits. Both had kept Alaire afloat.
“I look forward to proving my gusto as a flier.” For all his quirks, Archer treated his bond with his creature as sacred.
In his eyes, bonding with a celestial was Lysia’s direct calling—his destiny fulfilled.
He was simply less smug about it than most. “Plus, it gives me an excuse to wear my lucky socks.” He lifted his pant leg.
“They have little owls on them. Fitting, wouldn’t you agree? ”
“Entirely,” Kaia and Alaire agreed in unison.
One by one, novices were led through the arch toward the Valiant Vanguards grounds. To maintain a fair advantage, no one was permitted to watch another’s run of the course.
Alaire bobbed her knee. She should’ve brought a book—anything to keep her mind off the scorched symbols, the files she’d found, and her last fight with Dawson.
Fortunately for her, fliers couldn’t use magic in this trial. Celestials, however, could use whatever advantages they saw fit.
All they’d been told was the Nocturne Crucible tested a flier and their bonded creature’s agility and navigation—under the cover of darkness. Novices without a celestial took part in a different trial, one testing elemental abilities.
Archer was called, then Kaia. Alaire waited with a handful of others. She pulled her breathbind reliquary from her leathers and inhaled deeply, ignoring the curious looks. Tension around her lungs loosened with her exhale.
She reopened her connection to Solflara. Immediately, her phoenix’s boundless confidence flooded her.
“Alaire Vallorian,” a voice called.
She stood, stretching her neck from side to side, shaking off any lingering doubts. Rolling her shoulders back, she walked toward the tunnel.
She was ready.
Beyond the arch, Professor Ross stood waiting with Solflara. Tonight, he wore a burnt-orange ensemble.
“Follow me,” he said without so much as a greeting before disappearing into the Woods of Whispers.
Solflara moved to Alaire’s side, and together they followed the professor in silence.
The academy had restricted novices to the castle all day, keeping them in the dark about what awaited them. Alaire didn’t mind—better to focus on the task ahead. Adrenaline thrummed through her veins, ready for anything.
Under the cover of the trees, Professor Ross stopped abruptly. His casual demeanor vanished, replaced by tense shoulders, clenched fists, and a stiff back. His eyes scanned the forest, sharp and alert.
Alaire slowed, stopping just short of him. Was this where the challenge started?
“Professor—”
His gaze snapped to her. Before she could finish, he gripped her forearm, fingers digging into her skin.
“You must win the trial. Your very survival at the academy depends on it. Be swift, be ruthless, trust your gut, and above all—trust your phoenix. She was made for this,” he said in hushed tones.
Solflara ruffled her fiery feathers, sensing Alaire’s spike of anxiety.
Alaire jerked her arm free, suspicion swirling as she narrowed her eyes. “What? Why? What aren’t you telling me?”
Professor Ross’s gaze flicked across the forest, as if gauging whether anyone else was near.
Out of habit, Alaire’s fingers inched toward her blades. This was the man who’d kept secret files on her, who’d offered her freedom—because he suspected she was different…
“ He’ll be a pile of ash before he touches you , should he prove himself an idiot ,” Solflara warned down the bond.
“No time now. Heed my warning, or the consequences could be dire.”
He was always talking in fucking riddles.
“No time?” Alaire snapped. “You’re the one who thought it important enough to pull me aside, give me veiled warnings, then claim there’s no time to explain? The consequences are always dire around here. What makes this different?”
Professor Ross ran a hand through his sandy-blonde hair but said nothing, his eyes fixed on a particularly dark patch of trees.
“Answer me,” Alaire demanded. She was sick of half-truths—she deserved honesty.
Blinking, he shook his head, readjusted his jacket, and walked on as if nothing had happened.
At the forest’s edge, a group of administrators and Headmaster Carth sat on elegant black velvet settees. Near the cliffs stood a black-and-gold platform.
“ What do you think that was about ?” Alaire asked down the bond.
“ An odd fae , that one . A warning , perhaps . Though he does seem to know at least one thing .”
Alaire’s lips twitched. “ You’re shameless . The slightest praise , and you melt . Might as well roll over and let him rub your tummy .”
“ It might be praise , but it doesn’t make it any less true . Don’t be jealous you don’t get the same compliments from the prince. ”
“ What is your obsession with me and the prince ? Not everything is about him .”
“ Doesn’t seem that way to me . He occupies a considerable amount of your thoughts . It’s rather pathetic. ”
Heat rose in Alaire’s cheeks.
“ This conversation is pointless . Focus .” The platform was quickly approaching—and with it, their first trial.
“S eems you’re trying to change the subject , but I digress . We can continue pretending your body doesn’t heat up when he’s around .”
Alaire groaned. She hadn’t realized how close they’d come to the edge.
“ You’re welcome .” Solflara tilted her head as if to say I told you so .
“ All of that was on purpose ?”
“ Anger and vengeance focus you . Something about the prince makes you particularly vicious . What lies ahead will require your complete concentration . Debating Professor Ross’s words will have to wait .”
“ We’ll be circling back to your methods later . For now , let’s kick this crucible’s ass .”
Solflara’s gaze met hers, fierce determination flowing between them.
Professor Ross gestured for them to step onto the platform, which bounced under their weight.
“Beware,” he said. “Many obstacles in this test are naturally occurring, but others have been simulated. The trial begins with a grueling flight across the North Sea. The Nocturne Crucible assesses endurance through various scenarios while flying through designated markers. You may see other fliers along the way—do not engage. Gold-and-black flags mark checkpoints through each obstacle, allowing administrators to monitor your progress and determine final scores.”
Professor Ross leaned forward, pressing a gold enamel pin with two wings into her palm.
“If you run into trouble—or cannot complete the crucible for any reason—prick your finger with this. You’ll get immediate assistance.
There is no victory without sacrifice. Drawing your blood is a symbol of that. ”
Alaire pocketed the pin, hoping she’d have no reason to use it.
“One last thing.” He handed her a rolled parchment. “A map to the finish line. It’s enchanted to withstand the elements.”
Under the night sky, the parchment glowed faintly, warm like the orbs that lit the campus. Once she had her bearings, she tucked it beneath her leathers.
She mounted Solflara with practiced ease. They’d trained relentlessly for this—together and apart—honing every skill for this moment.
A flare shot upward, briefly lighting the sky and dark water below.
“ Don’t look down .”
“ Too late .” She gulped.
Solflara launched with a powerful thrust of her wings, the ground falling away.
At cruising altitude, her wings caught the wind. Cold, salty air howled past. The dark churn of the North Sea stretched beneath them—Alaire’s only other glimpse of it had been on her way to Aeris Academy, and she had no desire to see more of it tonight.
She leaned back, trying to take advantage of Solflara’s steady pace. Conserving their energy for the challenge ahead was paramount. Stars glittered overhead, sharp and bright.
Fuck, it’s cold . The wind was numbing her fingers. She pressed closer to Solflara’s neck, grateful for the phoenix’s warmth, her plumage dimmed to avoid drawing unwanted attention.
Fatigue began creeping in. Her biceps cramped from gripping Solflara’s braid so tightly, but it was that or plummet into the sea. Flexing her fingers, she adjusted her hold.
The Crystal Spires rose against the night, mist curling around jagged peaks. On the tallest, a gold-and-black flag snapped in the wind.