Queen of Storms

by C. N. Crawford

  Raegon stared up at the seething storm clouds, magic staining the air around him with gold. “Before Taru can reveal the truth to you, you must complete this trial. The Storm God wishes to know his knights are strong enough to wield his power. Otherwise, you are of no use to him. And who shall be the first to receive this gift?”

  Tarvis stepped forward, his power lashing the air. Blond waves fell elegantly over his thorny golden crown and pure confidence shone in his green eyes. “I am the Storm God’s chosen one.”

  Sure you are, Tarvis.

  “Very well,” said Raegon.

  Tarvis stepped forward and knelt before Raegon. I was actually glad this arse had gone first, because now I could watch what I was supposed to do.

  Raegon leaned down and cupped Tarvis’s head in his hands. “Lightning is the fury of the Storm God. If you can call the lightning from the sky and bring it under your control, you will have earned Taru’s favor and passed this trial.”

  I blinked in surprise. This should be interesting. I was good at doing magic. Really good. But I’d never called lightning to my hand before. The kind of power necessary to draw fire out of the sky like that was immense, and that wasn’t even the worst part. You had to be able to hold the magic inside of yourself. In fact, you essentially had to turn yourself into a lightning rod. And failure to control it meant burning to death in a lightning strike—a scorched body, charred bones.

  Basically, this kind of magic had more chance of killing you than it had of actually working.

  “We will be watching your powers carefully to help determine who shall be our next knight at the Institute. This is your chance to prove yourself. The losing house must cut an unsworn tonight. Tarvis, you may begin.”

  As Raegon backed away from him, Tarvis lifted his arms to the sky. Granted, he looked like he knew what he was doing, but the privileged classes always did, even if they had no flipping clue what was going on. I was sure he was thinking something along the lines of I deserve for this to work.

  Tarvis opened his mouth and roared at the clouds. As much as I hated to admit it, his magic was powerful, and it crackled through my bones. Lightning flashed furiously above, ripping open the gray belly of the sky. Strike after strike, the light shifted and danced on the faces of the unsworn, creating shadows that seemed to move all around us like a cabaret of dark creatures.

  The Nathair’s shadow looked winged and monstrous. He wore sophisticated skin, but the gods’ light showed what lurked underneath the surface—a beast.

  Tarvis’s roaring grew louder, a sound I thought all of Gibraltar would mistake for thunder. I glanced up at the heaving clouds, their motions following the sweeps of Tarvis’s arm. Slowly, a column of clouds began to fall, looking like a small tornado surrounded by arcs of lightning. All around us, the wind picked up, whipping my hair into my face. The clouds boomed as the light show continued.

  When it all fell silent, my ears were ringing. The clouds glowed with light from the inside, but the lightning had stopped.

  So, he did know what he was doing. Bollocks. I wasn’t saying I wanted him to die, but it wouldn’t be the worst thing if Taru were to singe his hair off and he had to creep home in disgrace. I was starting to feel that wouldn’t be on the cards. The wanker had clearly practiced this at home.

  He thrust his hand toward the clouds. As he did, a bolt of lightning shot from the sky and struck his palm.

  The lightning disappeared, and the air smelled charged and singed. Tarvis stood proud, looking like some kind of … well, like the bloody Storm God himself. Unhurt, unburned, unfazed.

  The smug smile on his face made me want to push him off the Rock just a bit.

  And now, it was time for the House Dorcha.

  Chapter 21

  Ree’s lightning strikes had shot wildly all over the Rock, missing her hand entirely and singeing Helgar’s hair. Letha’s lighting had struck a tourist and lit his parka on fire. She was still pouting about that, her pink hair plastered to her head, muttering that the tourist’s jacket had been made of metal.

  So far, only Tarvis had proven himself. Now, Affian stood before the column, his green hair gleaming in the gloomy light. The other fae probably didn’t notice, but his legs were trembling a little. He didn’t look prepared.

  He lifted his hand partway to the skies, muttered a spell under his breath, and the clouds gleamed with bright light under their surfaces. But something didn’t seem quite right. Lightning was flickering all over the city, and I could have sworn I saw Taru’s dark eyes staring at us with disapproval.

  An icy shiver rippled over my whole body. This will not end well.

  When Affian thrust his hand at the sky, lightning seared the dark clouds and struck his body. His cloak ignited with flames as he fell to the ground, and he burned like a torch.

  No one moved to help him; it was clear the strike had killed him.

  The flames from his cloak warmed the dark like a macabre bonfire. I gaped at his charred body, wincing at the grisly spectacle.

  “Oh my gods,” Letha whispered, her hand covering her mouth. The sight of a flaming tourist hadn’t bothered her, but the death of a noble fae was beyond the pale.

  Affian’s mentor stalked off, his coat billowing behind him. Two down for the House Leus. He looked as if the whole situation had irritated him.

  I should have been thrilled that the competition was getting cut down, that I was closer to my goal—but this all seemed a bit … disturbing. Not to mention the fact that I’d be catching Taru in a foul mood when it was my turn. Apparently, he didn’t want to play today.

  “You, girl!” Raegon pointed at me, smiling kindly. “Come on, then.”

  Not a word about the still burning corpse on the ground. We’d just let the rain extinguish the flames and pretend it wasn’t happening. This was, apparently, just a normal day in the trials, with a flaming body. Business as usual.

  I gritted my teeth, pushing my reservations aside. If I could survive this, I’d learn the secrets of the Institute. There was only one spot open, and I needed it.

  I stepped into the center of the circle, wrinkling my nose at the burning body. I tried not to think about the smell, or the way Affian had convulsed when he’d been struck. I couldn’t let myself imagine this would happen to me.

  There were many things I couldn’t think about right now: Taru’s wrath, the body I’d left in a closet. Wren struggling for breath. Melkarth’s discovery that I came from Edinnu, and his unspoken threats. Now, I just had to think about Taru’s magic.

  He owed me for what he’d made me do.

  I stood a few feet from Affian’s body, and Tarvis’s green eyes pierced me. I could actually feel how badly he wanted me to fail. He wanted another barbecued fae for the Rock.

  The corner of my mouth twitched. Tarvis didn’t know it—none of them knew it—but Taru and I had a long and close history. I knew his power like I knew my own heartbeat.

  I glanced up at the sky. The clouds still looked angry, thick, and seething, casting the Rock and the entire bay in near darkness. It looked entirely unnatural. Raindrops hammered my face. I blinked to keep the water out of my eyes. My sleek new clothes clung to my skin with cold rain.

  “Here goes,” I muttered under my breath.

  I lifted my hand, and a static charge danced between my fingertips. I would turn my body into a lightning rod if it killed me—which, as I’d just seen, was an actual possibility.

  No time to dwell on my fears now.

  With one quick movement, I pushed my hand up and aimed it directly into the clouds. The fireworks started right away. Power—raw, magical power—pulsed through me so hard it made my body tremble.

  Every crack of lightning, every crash of thunder in the skies became an extension of me. I was myself, but at the same time, I was the clouds. I was the elements. I was everywhere. And in the back of my mind, stirring like a monster of clouds and light, lurked the Storm God. I could feel him, his presence and attention as familiar as th
ey were terrifying.

  He was close. And he was close because I had come to him this time. I had opened the conduit into his world and dared him to work through me. I used magic all the time, called on Taru for help all the time, but this was different. I needed to do something big, something powerful. For that, I needed to actually reach for Taru, and that was something I never wanted to do. Ever.

  For years, I’d fought against getting so close to the Storm God, barely scratching the surface of what I could do because I knew the cost. Now, I floated into the clouds, ready to receive his power.

  Light beamed under the surface of the dark clouds. Tiny whips of lightning danced so close to me I could have reached out and grabbed one.

  And yet, every fiber of my being resisted the idea of touching the Storm God’s power directly. I was in control, and it wouldn’t kill me. But it would do something far, far worse. I’d become his completely.

  I was annoying Taru now. A small pulse of magic struck me in the chest and sent me flying into the marble column.

  Taru was warning me.

  The strike had scalded my skin, and I grimaced at the pain, doubling over.

  “Fail!” Tarvis’s voice boomed. I touched my chest near where Taru had struck me. It had left a neat, black-rimmed hole in my shirt. I was frankly amazed the fabric hadn’t ignited. Biting my lip, I looked at the bright red burn on my skin, just over my heart. The pain was indescribable, and this would be a permanent scar between my breasts. I could heal myself from most things, but not Taru’s magic. His wounds were permanent.

  It took me a few moments before I mastered my breathing again. I wanted to rail at the Storm God, but that would only make things worse. And I still had a trial to win.

  Silence had fallen over the crowd. My fingers trembled a little, and I kept my eyes on the storm clouds.

  Non plus ultra. The words rang in my mind.

  Maybe I didn’t have to draw the lightning into myself and risk igniting myself if it went horribly wrong.

  I turned around and placed my hands against the column, chanting the magical words that would make fire rain from the sky.

  Silence reigned for a moment.

  Then, an overpowering boom. Bolt after bolt struck the column, slamming into the marble so hard I could almost feel it cracking under my fingertips. The magic worked through me in an exhilarating rush of power. Gods, it was addictive. I’d drawn lightning down from the sky, and even though I hadn’t pulled it into myself, that had to count as a pass for the trial, right?

  When the lightning stopped, I stepped away from the column, buzzing with magic. Wisps of smoke rose from the points of impact all over the column, and the words glowed with blue light.

  The Grand Master rushed past me, touching the column with his hands. With his eyes shut, he muttered a frantic spell that sounded more like a mad prayer—a plea—than a spell. Slowly, the glowing writing on the column dulled until it went dark again.

  When Raegon stepped away, he looked unusually pale. “The trial has ended,” he barked. “Everyone back to the Institute. Now.”

  “You heard him.” Tarvis stalked off.

  I wasn’t sure what exactly had scared Raegon, but the glowing letters apparently bothered him more than the flaming corpse on the ground. Messed up priorities here.

  With my body still humming with Taru’s power, I waited a moment in the rain, watching as the others marched inside. Only Melkarth remained—staring at me.

  The look he was giving me said that he knew all my secrets.

  I hurried away from him before he could say a word.

  Chapter 22

  The Institute seemed different when I crossed back into it. More sinister. Shadows shifted around corners, whispers bounced off the walls. The Nathair followed after me like a curse.

  My heart hadn’t stopped pounding since we left the site of the trial, but I couldn’t feel my fingers or toes from the cold. The burn on my chest smarted fiercely, and the skin under the hole had blistered. I didn’t even want to look at it.

  It was starting to become clear to me that even if I passed all the trials, my life was in danger here. The Nathair was on to me, and that body wouldn’t stay hidden forever.

  I’d known what I was getting into the moment I’d come down here in search of Wren, but the sense of danger felt more urgent now. Like I didn’t have more than a few minutes of life left.

  The Nathair sidled up to me, tendrils of his deep silver magic lashing the air around him. “Quite the display of magic,” he purred.

  I shrugged, feigning calm. “So maybe you should make me a knight.”

  “Well, that would certainly be interesting.” A charming, lethal smile lit up his features. He stopped in front of his door, his hands in his pockets, droplets of rain gleaming off his dark hair. Then, he frowned at the angry burn on my chest.

  His silver magic coiled closer to me, and my own magic twined with his. His warmth simmered over my skin, and I felt as if I were being pulled toward him. Instinctively, I took a step closer, and he reached out for me. He brushed his fingertips around the wound—a casual, elegant gesture, as if lazy curiosity compelled him.

  I stared down as his silvery magic spread over my chest, warming me from the inside out. The burn no longer hurt, and my pulse began to race at the feel of his magic on me. Torchlight gilded his perfect features.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  A line formed between his dark brows. “Healing you.”

  “How?” I said. “Taru’s scars can’t be healed.”

  “And yet, I’m healing yours. Something about you deeply disturbs me. I don’t trust you, and yet you’ve invaded my thoughts. How?”

  “I have?”

  As he touched me, the scales on the back of his hand glowed slate blue—the color of my magic. He smirked. “Hate me all you want, but it seems you need me.”

  The blisters on my skin began to fade, pain ebbing.

  “How?” I asked.

  He shrugged, the movement somehow beautiful. “The gods work in mysterious ways.”

  His magic radiated all the way down my belly, pulsing through my core. I had the most insane desire to move closer to him, but I resisted.

  When he’d completely healed the burn on my chest, he stepped back, looking insufferably smug and proud of himself. “Your body responds well to me.”

  “Are we done here?”

  “No. Now I’m going to explain to you why you won’t become a knight,” he spoke in his dangerous murmur. “That display out there was not exactly typical for an unsworn. I’m not sure who we let into our Institute, but you’re not a real unsworn.”

  “What is it that you’re accusing me of?”

  “What you did back there….” He let a pause slide in as he leaned against the door, boxing me in.

  My breath quickened, and I waited for a question, but didn’t get one. “Yes?”

  “Why did you choose the column?”

  “I know my limits.”

  “Do you? Because I’m not sure there are many limits to what you can do.”

  He was definitely accusing me of something. Of course, he couldn’t just come out with it like a normal person.

  “Look, I know a bit about science. I knew that instead of pulling the lightning directly into myself, I could pull it into the stone if I just turned it into a conductor. It would still get to my palms, but without Taru’s full force. It seemed safer.”

  “Fascinating.” His eyes twinkled. “Here’s the thing, Cora. I’m good at reading people. And do you know what I’m reading from you?”

  I crossed my arms. Alarm bells were ringing in the back of my mind. “What?”

  “You’re too smart and powerful to get caught by anyone. So how did you end up here at the Institute? Captured by Oren, that great lumbering muppet”—a sly smile—“who happens to be missing?”

  Keep your cool, Cora. “I just slipped up and he caught me. That’s all.”

  He wore his mask of cal
m, but darkness rippled around him. “I know you’re hiding the true extent of your power. You’re either lying about how strong you are or you’re too stupid to realize it. And I don’t think you’re stupid. You wanted to come here.”

  That sense of peace I’d felt when Melkarth’s magic had touched my skin had gone completely. Now, I felt ice cold. I’d come here to get thrown into the dungeons, and this was turning into a complete and utter shit show.

  What next, Cora?

  Some dark, wild part of me wanted to unleash the full extent of my magic, to kill nearly everyone in the castle and run around until I found Wren. It was what the mad king of Edinnu would do, and I felt half insane right now.

  “Your magic smells like sea storms.” Melkarth traced his finger down my neck, and I shivered. “It tastes like salt. You’re a spy from Edinnu, aren’t you?”

  I shook my head. I was from Edinnu—he’d got that right. But I was running from their spies. No way in hells I was working for that insane king. The man who’d cursed me.

  “No. I’m not a spy from Edinnu.” I was telling the truth, and if he was as perceptive as he claimed, he’d realize it.

  He cocked his head. “Hmmmm….” His deep tone rumbled in my belly. “You’re omitting something important, Cora. You’re not here for the right reasons.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  A smile curled his beautiful lips. “I think you do. Now, why don’t you just tell me what you’re doing here, and we can properly become acquainted at last?”

  His magic crashed into me like a wave, one that might pull me under. He hadn’t burned me yet, and I wasn’t going to give him the chance. My own magic simmered within my ribs, and I started to call up a shield. But Melkarth pulled his magic back before I got the chance to slam mine into his.

  My teeth chattered, and I hugged myself. Screw this. I was done here. I was done with him.

  I’ll kill them all. I wanted to burn the whole place down, mad as a king….