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

“I’d like to.” Cullen stepped away and Eira released him. “Besides, you’re doing me the favor, remember?”

“I suppose…” It was dawning on her that he hadn’t said why he wanted her to go to court yet. But Eira didn’t have a chance to ask.

“Excellent. Good luck out there. I look forward to seeing your creation.” Cullen made a hasty retreat. Almost…too hasty. Like he was nervous?

Eira shook her head and pushed the notion from her mind. She had to stay focused. Now, more than ever, she needed a handle on her thoughts and her emotions.

When the clock chimed fifteen minutes before her time to present, Eira finally left the Tower. She took the back passages through the palace, avoiding others as much as possible. She didn’t want to see or hear anything.

She emerged out of the walls of the Sunlit Stage by one of the lower entries to the fading cheers for the person before her.

“You, there.” A guard she didn’t recognize rushed over. “Are you Eira Landan?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, thank the Mother, we thought you’d be a no-show.” The guard ushered her toward the entry.

“A no-show?” she asked.

“The minister said you might be.”

“Of course he did,” Eira mumbled.

“Doesn’t matter, you’re up.”

With a small shove, Eira was thrust into the Sunlit Stage, alone, and with easily a thousand eyes watching her from the stands.

Word of the trials seemed to have spread quickly, collecting an audience from all walks of life. People of all shapes, colors, and sizes packed the stands. Eira turned, blinking, taking them all in. She didn’t know if she was more relieved or hurt to not find her parents among them this time. Every pair of eyes stared down on her, judging silently.

But the real judges were the four individuals sitting behind a table on the stage portion of the Sunlit Stage. The emperor and empress sat flanked by Ferro and Cordon respectively. Ambassador Cordon was flipping through some papers, glancing at her and making a few marks. Vhalla and Aldrik both stared down at her from what felt like a mountaintop.

Ferro’s eyes were familiar, but his gaze was not. He wore the expression of an ambassador—cold and cut off. Along the back of the stage were palace guards, sorcerers peppered among them—Fritz and Deneya included. They both kept a close eye on Eira as she approached the center of the arena.

Eira wrung her hands and quickly stopped the nervous motion. It was replaced by a bite of her lip. But she at least stood a little straighter.

She felt alone, laid bare, vulnerable. Eira took a breath and fought against the urge to surround herself in ice. That would certainly be a creation. But any Waterrunner could do something of the like.

The magic in her set Eira apart from the rest. She just had to find the courage to put it on display.

“Eira Landan,” the emperor spoke, “you will have ten minutes to present a creation of your choice. It must be entirely housed within the area and cannot pose a danger to anyone gathered here or the arena itself. Do you have any questions?”

“I do not,” Eira said softly. Wishing her voice boomed as the emperor’s did.

“Then your time begins now.” The emperor reached for an hourglass on the table and flipped it. The sand began pouring from top to bottom, no doubt carefully calibrated to ten minutes exactly.

Eira took a deep breath, held it, and closed her eyes. This was it. Time for what would likely be the dumbest choice of her life.

The muscles tightened in her ears as she strained to listen. She wanted to hear every creak of the stands above her as the excited crowd shifted. She wanted to hear Ferro’s breathing. She wanted to hear as though her ears were long and pointed, not short and rounded.

No…she didn’t want to hear with her ears at all. She wanted to hear with her magic.

The arena was a dry lake—her lake. It was thirsty, waiting to be filled. Eira let her power seep from her. She imagined water springing up from around her feet, quickly filling the whole place to the brim.

When Eira opened her eyes, the stage was still as dry as a bone. But she felt every corner. Her power stretched, ebbing and flowing, searching.

“What is she going to do?” someone asked loudly from above.

Someone else yawned.

More murmuring.

Cordon tilted his head, narrowing his eyes. His pen scratched loudly on his notes. The emperor and empress waited, as perfect as statues. Ferro kept his face passive.

He’d asked what she intended…but Eira hadn’t told him. She’d wanted it to be a surprise. She wanted to impress him.

Eira closed her eyes again and furrowed her brow. She heard everything but nothing she was listening for. The crowd’s restlessness was growing. More murmurs. Some laughter. They thought she was doing nothing when really she was trying to do something that everyone had shunned her whole life. Everyone had said it was impossible.

She was going to show them the limits of what was possible, here and now.

“Quiet,” Eira murmured. They were being too noisy. So many people that the walls were silent. “Stop talking, please,” she said, louder. No one seemed to hear. “Silence!” Eira shouted. Her voice felt like it echoed across the whole city.

Everyone fell into a stunned hush. And in that moment of blessed peace, Eira heard a whisper.

She opened her eyes with a start. Immediately they found the crown the empress wore. It was different from the emperor’s—from what would be expected of a Solaris Empress. The Empire was gilded. Everything that glittered was truly gold under the Solaris sun.

But Vhalla’s crown was silver, ornate, and adorned with western rubies.

Eira strung her magic to the crown. It was hard, from a distance. Usually, when she worked with vessels she could place them in water and directly manipulate the magic within them with her own.

She was trying to apply the same concept without actually touching the item—something she’d been doing subconsciously since birth