CHAPTER SEVEN #2
I jumped at an unexpected touch. Emerson stood next to me, pressing his hand gently on my shoulder.
He looked apologetic. “I was trying to warn you. I’m sorry.
There’s no way you’ll be able to complete the course.
They just wanted your money. I think they’ll let you leave though once they see you give up.
Once they’ve had their fun. Why do you need phoenix flame anyway?
Most people covet their healing ash. Is someone you know sick or something?
There’s a formal process to access their healing magic, you know. I could put in a good word for you.”
“Thank you for your kindness. But it’s not about an illness.” I stared at the obstacle course, trying to picture myself finishing it and failing. “How does anybody complete this?” I asked, my shoulders drooping.
“It’s not a simple task. It takes a certain sensitivity to mentally connect with a phoenix.
To be able to communicate mind to mind. If you have what it takes, you can share its gifts.
Fire control and healing. Even levitation if you’re very lucky.
Some men never make it all the way through the course.
They lack the physical strength to support their own weight all the way, or they never manage to properly channel the necessary fire resistance.
Successfully completing the course is the first step toward bonding your own phoenix. ”
“Is getting burned the only danger?”
Emerson paled. “No. A lot of men visit the infirmary afterward. I’ve seen all manner of broken limbs. A few of the beams are high enough that a fall could kill you. If you burn your hands, or lose your grip, or time your release poorly and fail to grab the next ring. That’s rare though…”
“Rare, but not unheard of?”
“Look, you’ll be okay. They don’t actually expect you to attempt the course. It’s impossible. You’ll burn yourself. Just tell them you quit and I’ll make sure they let you leave. I can escort you to the city if you need. My debut can wait. But can I ask you something first?”
“Sure. What did you want to know?”
“Why did you call yourself the Midnight Sovereign? What does that mean?”
“To be honest, I’m still figuring that out.”
Emerson laughed. “Fair enough. You’re the first person I’ve ever seen wander onto our field, so I had to ask.
Word of advice? I would avoid coming here unannounced in the future.
A lot of the older men would have reported you right away.
Or worse. No matter what title you make up for yourself.
Or how much money you have. I admire your daring though. ”
“Can I take a minute? Before we leave?”
Emerson nodded. “Yeah, of course.”
“Ready to give up yet?” Malwin shouted snidely from the sidelines.
My gaze drifted upward, drawn to the sky.
It was a rare day—the moon was faintly visible overhead, even though it was still daylight.
A timely reminder that she was always there, even when I couldn’t see her through the sun’s glare.
Hidden. Resting. Relieved from duty by the sun, but still present.
Apparently, my predecessors could bend moonlight to their will.
Was it possible? That she would lend me her powers?
Even though she rested above? It seemed like a sign that she was shining so brightly today, bright enough I could catch a glimpse of her through the sunshine.
Reflexively, I clutched my moonstone necklace.
A stone of moonlight. Phoenix fire emulated the blistering heat of the sun.
To quench it would require me to oppose its nature with something equally powerful.
Like concentrated moonlight. Was it possible?
To soothe the fiery passion of the sun with the cool tranquility of the moon?
I’d never tried to call upon the island’s magic.
I’d always ignored the pull of the moon, telling myself everyone was drawn to its presence.
Uncertain if Kaylin could feel the same connection.
Uncertain if she would be angry at me for seeking it out.
Then again, it wasn’t just the island’s magic—was it?
Maybe it was time to start thinking about it as the Midnight Sovereign’s magic.
As my own. I pictured the cemetery headstones.
If there were power within the island, it was borne from the long line of people who had dedicated their lives to its preservation, who faithfully performed their duties, who allowed their bones to be laid to rest within its grounds.
I shut my eyes, closing out the world. Here goes nothing.
I let my mind go blank, filling it instead with the deep, solemn tones of the island’s bell at midnight.
Focusing on my necklace as a point of connection, something taken from home.
I imagined the light of a full moon piercing the darkness.
Imagined what it would be like to bathe myself in that moonlight, protected by its soft, ephemeral glow.
Holding those images, I breathed deeply, searching for something inside myself that I wasn’t sure existed, that I wasn’t sure I could command.
It was faint. Oh, so faint. But it was there. The tendrils of magic. A soft, silvery light poured forth from my fingertips. I scrutinized the light. But it didn’t disappear. It was real. I summoned it. I willed it to spread, to safeguard my hands.
Emerson cleared his throat. “Are you ready to leave now?”
I looked him in the eye. “I’ve learned something about men like Malwin.”
“What’s that?” he asked, tilting his head.
“There’s only one way they win.” I leaned forward on my right leg, preparing to sprint toward the course.
“If they make you believe that you don’t even deserve to try.
” I launched myself at the first metal ring, hands charged with magic, heart pounding as I leapt forward at a running start.
Emerson’s panicked voice called after me. “Elvira—DON’T!”
My hand connected with the first ring. With a loud “Umph!” I swung my other arm upward, gripping the next ring in the sequence, hanging suspended between them.
They were warm. Uncomfortably so. But they weren’t burning me or causing me any pain.
The silvery light radiating from my hands was successfully neutralizing the white-hot glow of the metal rings.
I focused all of my mental energy on maintaining the magic.
Now the only question was how far my strength would take me.
I tuned out the exclamations from my audience below. Take it one ring at a time.
I extended my arm, swinging forward again, trying to conserve as much of my initial momentum as possible, letting it carry me along.
Toward another ring. Then another. Each moment of release accompanied by a small thrill of trepidation until I securely grasped my next target.
I was making headway, but the cost was steep.
I felt it everywhere. My stomach clenched painfully.
My arms burned from overexertion. Sweat poured down my brow.
Stubbornly, I forced myself to continue.
Limits ceased to exist—given up to my relentless, forward pursuit.
A little before the halfway point, my body started to visibly shake from the strain.
“Too weak to finish?” Sargan yelled tauntingly from below.
I growled, a low rumble in my throat. Because he was right.
I wasn’t going to make it to the end. Realistically, I had a few more swings left in me before I was bound to fall.
The wise thing to do would be to drop before my arms gave out unexpectedly.
Malwin’s voice reached my ears. “I knew she didn’t have what it takes!
” Or…I could at least try and make it farther than Malwin did.
The thought was too tantalizing to resist.
Just a bit farther… Just one more ring… Just hold on long enough to show him up…
The shaking in my arms grew more pronounced.
A metallic taste filled my mouth. Exhaustion overwhelmed me, no muscle spared from its heavy embrace.
I reached down deep, searching for any ounce of strength left to call upon, and came up empty.
A wave of nausea crashed over me, causing me to slow my pace.
I winced as a few burn blisters erupted across my hands.
The acrid smell of burning flesh quickly followed.
My physical strength wasn’t the only thing failing me.
I was finding it harder and harder to maintain the magic I called forth—the willpower required to sustain it almost as taxing as the obstacle course itself.
Admittedly, it was too much to handle. Yet I was so, so close to my goal. So close to wiping that smug look right off Malwin’s face. Gritting my teeth, I swung my body past the halfway point, bellowing in triumph. That was when I made the mistake of looking down.
The ground suddenly looked very, very far away.
When had the beams risen so high? How had I not noticed they were starting to slope upward? From this distance, falling was not an option. If I fell now, I would seriously injure myself. Pride forgotten, blind panic overtook me.
I threw myself forward. A final desperate surge toward a lower ring.
My vision blurred around the edges. Frightened, I looked down again.
Still too high. Still too high. An icy knot of dread settled in my stomach as I came to a grim realization, one I was powerless to prevent: This is going to hurt.
My strength deserted me and I dropped like a lead weight.
Crack. “Argh!” A bloodcurdling scream tore from my throat as the bone in my arm loudly snapped.
In an instant, my awareness narrowed to a single pinpoint—the searing, white-hot pain from where my bone poked through my skin. Voices floated around me in a confusing tangle of sounds, but all I could focus on was the all-consuming pain radiating through my arm.
“Is she dead?”
“Burn me! She broke her arm.”
“What do we do? She’s bleeding.”
“Should we drag her to the road?”
“It’s too late. Emerson already ran to get Merrick.”
“We’ll say it was his fault. He’s the one who let her do the course.”
“I didn’t think she’d make it past the first ring!”
“How did she get so far anyway?”
“Fiere must have gone easy on her!”
“But her hands are burned.”
“Farther than you…” I managed to rasp out, my breath growing shallow.
“What did she say?”
Then, another voice.
A soft whisper at the edge of my consciousness. Elegant and melodic. Echoing in my head.