A Trial of Sorcerers: Book One by Kova, Elise (universal ebook reader .txt) 📕

to submerge herself within. “You really don’t believe me, do you?”

“I believe you believe what you’re saying. Eira, wait—”

She wrenched open the door to the office of the minister, done with this conversation.

Fritz sat behind his desk, head in his hands. Grahm leaned against the edge of the desk, arms crossed. Whatever conversation they had been having came to an abrupt end as well.

“Let’s get this over with.” Eira sat in one of the two chairs opposite Fritz, bracing herself to be chastised further.

“Close the door, please, Marcus,” Fritz said wearily. Marcus obliged and Fritz turned to her. “You said you wouldn’t sign up.”

“I changed my mind.”

“We asked you specifically not to. Your parents asked you specifically not to,” Grahm said. Frustration made his voice harder than his arm made of ice. He’d lost the arm in the war against the Mad King Victor and now used his magic as a prosthetic.

“It’s fine,” Fritz said with a sigh.

“It is?” Eira asked cautiously.

“Yes. The first trial is meant to cut the field in half. You’ll be in the half that’s cut.”

“Are you saying you’ll really cut me regardless of how I perform?” She couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

“No, unfortunately the trials are going to be made public at every stage. So I can’t interfere behind the scenes without raising questions. I’m saying you will throw it.”

“Why don’t you want me to do this?” Eira pushed herself off the seat with a slap. “Why don’t any of you want me to do this?”

“We told you why,” Grahm said without looking at her.

“Because of three years ago? It was a mistake—an error. I’m not the girl I was then. I’m a woman now. I’m stronger and I have more control.”

“Do you?”

“Of course I do!”

“Do you?” Grahm gave a nod to the chair.

Eira followed his gaze back to it. The entire chair was soaking wet, dripping on the floor. She glanced at her hands, at the water there already condensing into ice.

“Yes,” Eira insisted, letting go of her power and frustration with one exhale. The water evaporated. “And maybe this is the only way to prove it to all of you. It’s clear to me now, if I don’t do this, you are all going to continue treating me like a child to be handed off and managed for the rest of my life. Even if I’m not chosen as a final competitor, I’ll show you all that I can handle myself.”

“Stop being unreasonable.” Grahm rolled his eyes.

“Wanting some control of my life is the least unreasonable thing I could ask for.” Eira started for the door.

“Don’t be selfish, Eira,” her brother murmured.

Eira pinned him with her stare. “Don’t you see? This is as much for me as it is for you and your freedom, too.”

“Please sit down. We’re not finished,” Fritz said.

“I am.” Eira slammed the door behind her.

She stormed down the Tower, working to keep the dark currents whorling in her under control. Her ocean was churning with ice, grinding into bitter stillness. Ice. Ice all the way down. Ice from the top of her head to her toes. She’d freeze the entire tumultuous ocean in her.

“Well, aren’t you the ice queen tonight?” Cullen’s voice was like a lightning strike, arcing through every corner of her.

Eira stopped dead in her tracks. Cullen was right down the hall from her. Hair perfectly coiffed up and off to the side. Hands in pockets and wearing that lazy, arrogant smile of his.

“What?”

“You’d better calm down or you’re going to freeze the whole Tower…again.”

When she scowled, he pointed to her feet. Sure enough, ice was spreading from where she stood. Cursing under her breath, Eira pressed her eyes closed and exhaled deeply. When she opened her eyes, the frost was gone.

“There.”

“What has you so worked up?” Cullen asked before she could leave him behind. “No, wait, let me guess, you’re coming back from talking with Marcus and you’ve realized that you embarrassed him in front of the whole Tower with your little show today.”

“What I talk about with my brother isn’t your business, Cullen.” Eira turned, glaring up at him. The light of the flame bulbs cast almost sinister shadows on the hard lines of his jaw and nose. His brown hair was outlined in orange. His eyes were a warm amber color, as threatening as they were beautiful.

“Let me give you a bit of advice.” He took a step toward her. Eira didn’t back away.

“Let me tell you I don’t want your advice.” She gathered her height. But he was farther up on the slope of the Tower’s main walkway. And he was just slightly taller to begin with.

“Your brother is going to be a competitor, with me. Some people are just born for this.” He gave a small shrug and his eyes dragged down her body, head to toe. “Nothing to be bothered by or ashamed of when you don’t measure up. But I will have the team I choose for this competition. You’re not going to get very far challenging that.”

“The final team is chosen based on merit.”

“The trials are a formality.”

“You arrogant man,” Eira seethed. Cullen had been born with his powerful magic, his perfect hair, his up-and-coming family, and his handsome face. He’d been handed everything without ever having to work for it. He had been the first Windwalker after Vhalla’s ascension to power. He had been hand-trained by the empress herself. He was risen to lordship; his father had become a senator, welcomed with open arms into the Solaris Court—no wonder he thought the world revolved around him.

“It would be more correct to say, ‘You arrogant lord.’”

“Now you’re going to start flaunting your title?” She narrowed her eyes at him. Cullen historically hadn’t demanded the use of his title in the Tower. He was modest, or claimed to be. Of course, the humility had also been an act.

“I’m just correcting you. As long as you get things wrong, it’ll fall to me to do it.” He threw the words