Chapter 41 #2
In water so cold the air would freeze in her lungs, her muscles would lock up, and she would be dragged down to the deep in a matter of minutes. Seconds, maybe.
Think, Audra.
This was a trial.
Specifically, Arcane’s trial—Khari wanted to test the initiates’ knowledge of incras, their ability to correctly discern them, memorize them, and their ability to cast them—
Forgotten gods, she’d been under the impression that Scholar Khari would call out a few incras and they might have to cast them correctly, which was why she’d studied so damned hard, memorizing hundreds, and then many of their opposites, so she could cast them correctly; so she would remember even the most obscure and seemingly useless incras, like the one to make the most beautiful, shining jewels tarnish, or to locate the closest rodent to you (though, she supposed both of these would have their uses if one had a mouse problem in their cellar or were a merchant who dealt strictly in antique jewelry …
though neither was particularly helpful now).
She exhaled air through her nose. She’d gotten distracted. Focus.
There was something in the ocean she was supposed to retrieve—or—she brightened—maybe it was a door back to the amphitheater!
Shit, what if the first initiate to return was the winner? She’d been here what felt like hours already, though she suspected it hadn’t been that long.
Her cut had clotted and stopped bleeding, though pain sliced up her arm when she moved it. She fumbled for the pocket in her billowing shift and withdrew the quill; her bloodied fingers gripped it like a lifeline.
There was no incra that could turn her shift into a cold-water swimming outfit, and if there were, she’d never learned it.
So, she would have to improvise.
If she drew an incra for cold on her skin, would that warm her enough to keep her alive in the below-freezing temperature of the ocean?
She tried it. She drew the incra on the top of her foot, pushing her power into it. Warmth, blessed warmth. She sighed as her toes began to thaw.
She would test this first; if it worked, she would figure out what to do about breathing, in case the door or object lay far beneath the water’s surface.
She lifted the skirt of her shift and stepped into the next wave, letting the water rush up past her ankles.
She felt the temperature drop, but still, her feet remained warm.
She took another step forward, following the receding wave.
The next wave rushed past her calves, swirling around her legs.
Just as she was about to take another step forward, all at once the incra dissipated, and she felt as though a thousand daggers were stabbing her legs as the water leached every ounce of warmth her body possessed.
She shouted, turning and racing back toward the shore.
Shit, in her haste to escape, she’d splashed water onto her hem. The thin fabric fluttering in the wind stabbed her with icy cold every time it brushed against her calves.
Her teeth began to chatter again as she stomped her feet in an attempt to ease the pain and send the blood back to them.
Well, that didn’t work. It was like the trial knew that incra would be too easy. The very first incra they’d learned had been an abstract incra for fire and warmth. All had mastered it, most before Audra. A tier-one abstract incra for beginners … exactly like the one she’d just tried.
“Stupid,” she muttered to herself. She’d been stupid even to try it and hoped the mistake didn’t count against her overall score.
This was a competition—she wouldn’t win by trying the first glyph that came to mind, the most obvious and the easiest, lacking creativity and ingenuity—a sure way to fucking lose.
Now that she knew she wouldn’t be standing on a stage casting the same incras as everyone else and hoping she did it faster and better than them, she needed to pivot her thought process.
She was beginning to spiral—terror and insecurity swirling within her, igniting that dark power that also lay within her—the one that longed to stretch and writhe free, eating every living thing in its path.
No, no.
She hauled it back, mentally imagining it coalescing into a tightly spun ball, then clamped that power with imaginary hands, urging it to stay inside her, hidden. If they were somehow watching her, tracking her, it was imperative that she keep that power locked within her.
“Pivot, Audra, pivot,” she muttered to herself.
She needed to win this, quickly—using incras no one else would cast, and doing them well, with style.
And then she remembered—the level-three incra she’d mastered a few days before.
It had been in one of the scrolls Khari had given her.
After days of trying, she’d finally mastered it and …
she hated to admit it, even to herself, that when she’d come down from her private celebration, she’d considered for a fraction of a moment how smart it would be to cast it on herself for the Sabre trial but had ultimately decided that would be cheating.
She hadn’t counted on the judges not only awarding cheating but seemingly encouraging it.
But this, using it now, wouldn’t be cheating. She was supposed to use incras in this trial; this would be reputable and might still earn the judges’ respect in a way cheating wouldn’t.
With trembling fingers, she unlaced the bow holding her bodice closed and opened the fabric enough to allow access to her chest, while still keeping her breasts covered just in case any of those despicable Zenaidan judges could see her—she was determined not to give them a free show, despite knowing that if she were to dive in the water, the thin shift would become transparent and the judges would have a full view of her breasts.
Was that why they’d simulated her to be in a shift for this trial? Was everyone else in just a shift too? For a peek at the initiates’ bodies? Audra looked around as though she would see a collection of nobles standing on the ridge watching her undress.
She’d initially thought her attire was chosen so that she would be forced to feel every gust of wind, every bite of the bitter cold …
but if her theory was correct, and some of the judges were truly from the noble houses that planned on sponsoring the initiates and bringing them into their families, then she wouldn’t put it past these nobility to want to see the full scope of their investments.
She suddenly felt little more than a horse, being judged to see if she was a fine specimen, and the thought made her ill.
She pushed the thought aside to sift through later.
Right now, her fingers were turning blue, and she’d lost feeling in her toes completely—which was terrible for the long run, but actually better than the burning pain she’d dealt with the last however long.
Having untied the bodice and separated it enough to reach the smooth expanse of her chest while keeping her modesty, she began to draw the incra on her chest, upside down, as close to her heart as she could manage—drawing an incra close to your heart increased its strength and durability.
And she would need all she could get, because if this went wrong, if this didn’t work, she would freeze to death before she reached the prize.