by Kova, Elise
“Yes, you are. I’ve spent my whole life looking up to you. If anyone knows how great you are, it’s me.”
Marcus pulled her in for a tight hug, one Eira returned. “You really are the best sister a guy could ask for.”
“You’re an okay brother, I guess.”
“Okay? You guess?” He pulled back in mock offense.
Eira laughed. “Fine, you’re pretty great.”
“I thought so.” Marcus shared her laughter. “So, will you do it? Please? For me?” Eira bit her lower lip. “I also thought…it’d give you a chance to see the course, so you could see when you’d throw your run and how to make it look believable when you did.”
“Throw my run?”
“So you wouldn’t keep being a candidate for competitor?”
“Oh, right,” Eira murmured. The levity in the room vanished and was replaced with a lead weight on her shoulders.
“Mom and Dad are coming to watch the second trial, remember? They’ll be watching for you to fail like they asked.”
Watching for her to fail, while he succeeded. Their letter still had yet to sit right with her. The words became harder to bear by the day.
“Yeah…right.” She sighed heavily, but no amount of exhaling could relieve the pressure growing on her. It felt like two separate weights were on different halves of her body and if she kept trying to hold them steady they’d rip her in half. “Fine, I’ll do it for you. But think about if you really want to know any information I gather. You don’t need to cheat.”
Eira collected the dress box and left him to think about what she’d said.
* * *
She paced the hallway Cullen had instructed her to wait in, her ankles getting tangled in the tailored skirt of the gown. Her usual hems were looser-fitting pieces that actually gave her room to move. This clung to her frame, giving her shapes that Eira hadn’t realized were there.
Ah, the illusions that could be wrought with good tailoring.
The door on the Tower side of the hall opened, finally, and Cullen strode through in all his court finery. He came to a sudden stop, as if walking into an invisible wall, and just stared. Eira’s feet halted as she did the same.
Cullen was dressed in deep purple trousers that clung to legs far more muscular than she expected. The hours he spent on the training grounds with the empress clearly weren’t for show. His long, gray coat had a sheen to it that looked almost like liquid metal. Two lines of buttons trailed down the front, ending just above the hem at his mid-thigh.
“I…hello.”
“Hello, Cullen.” Eira wasn’t accustomed to being more eloquent than him. He must be more nervous about what they were going to do than she was. “I did as you instructed.” She smoothed her hands over her skirts.
“I see that, and you—you look…” He trailed off, staring once more. Cullen shook his head. “You look perfectly acceptable for court.”
“Ah, I’m so glad I look ‘acceptable’ for the Prince of the Tower.” She could’ve sworn she caught the ghost of a grimace at the mention of his moniker this time. “Shall we get this over with?”
“Let’s.” He breezed past her. The entire walk to the court, Cullen kept his eyes forward. Not once did he glance her way.
The hall for the Solaris Court was a stately building set between the training grounds and water gardens that stretched out from the grand Mirror Ballroom. The lavish gardens leading up to it were a menagerie of topiaries trained into winged and hoofed beasts in cages of heavy flora. Eira had seen the hall from a distance before, but she’d never had a reason to explore closer—this was a place for the Lords and Ladies of Solaris. Common folk like her weren’t made for this hallowed ground.
Yet, as she crossed the marble threshold, no one rushed over to shoo her away. Eira let out a soft chuckle under her breath. She was surprised Cullen heard.
“What is it?”
“Nothing.” Maybe something of her uncle’s lordship had brushed off on her. Maybe she could navigate these waters.
“You have an almost worrisome smile.”
“I am not worrisome.” Eira shot him a glare, surprised to find a lazy grin hanging on Cullen’s cheeks. “Fine. I begrudgingly admit that I am grateful Marcus shared with you my measurements. It felt like a betrayal of trust yesterday. But now I feel like I blend in as well as the statues or drapes.” Eira kept her voice to a hushed whisper.
“You do,” he said softly. “As long as you can refrain from opening your mouth and exposing just how unpolished you are.” Eira jabbed her elbow into his side, a little harder than even she intended. He grunted and hissed, “What was that for?”
“Sorry for my unpolished movements. Clumsy me,” Eira said sweetly.
“You are seriously—” Cullen began to growl. But he was cut off by a singsong voice belonging to a woman dressed in a red ensemble finished with actual western rubies.
“Lord Cullen, it’s so good to see you.” The woman gave a bow of her head. “I see you’ve brought a guest with you today. How peculiar.”
“Lady Allora, this is Eira. She’s a fellow apprentice in the Tower of Sorcerers.”
“A delight to meet you, Eira.”
“And you as well, Lady Allora.” Eira tilted her head as she’d seen Allora do, hoping she didn’t break any etiquette. For all she made jabs at Cullen’s finishing lessons and the airs he put on, Eira suddenly could appreciate their necessity if he had to survive in this world. Every movement here was under scrutiny. Eira had never felt so many sideways glances cast her way, and she was one of the most unwelcome people in the Tower of Sorcerers.
“I see you’re a candidate as well.” Allora’s eyes dropped to her pin. “You don’t intend to try and beat our Cullen, do you?”
If I wanted to, I could, Eira barely resisted saying. She said instead, “I am a Waterrunner. We’re not in competition.”
“How good for you.” She turned her attention back to Cullen. “It’s not common for you to bring a lady with you. What should we think of this development?” Allora adjusted the furs around her shoulders with a serpentine grin. Eira noticed a few other conversations slowing around them so people could listen in.
“Think what you will. Far be it from me to deny you any delight you may glean from rumors to pass the hours of your day.” Cullen’s response had the tone of a rapier being drawn from a sheathe. Strong, deadly, and elegant. “Eira, if it pleases you, I would love to share with you my favorite pieces of art here in the hall.”
“I’d be delighted,” Eira said, hoping she read the situation correctly and he was looking for an out.
“Take care, Lady Allora.” Cullen bowed his head and escorted Eira away. Her hand had yet to leave the crook of his elbow since entering, and what had originally been a reluctant touch now felt like a lifeline.
“It’s not a problem that you brought me, is it?” Eira went to glance over her shoulder.
“Don’t look back,” Cullen hissed under his breath. She snapped her head forward once more. “You’ll give her the satisfaction of knowing she put you off guard.”
“The rumors are true, this place really is a viper pit,” Eira murmured. Cullen ignored the remark.
The hall was split into three stretches. The main stretch, which aligned with the grand entry, had a soaring, vaulted ceiling supported by square columns. On the outside of the columns were two other stretches, lined by windows and art. Men and women drifted throughout with nothing better to do with their time than be beautiful, stare at pretty things, and spread gossip.
“The door I mentioned in my instructions is ahead.” Cullen gave a nod toward a small side door, tucked in the corner. “Do you have any questions about the plan?”
“No.” Eira shook her head. He’d been fastidious with his instructions on how the day would play out.
“Good. In the meantime, there is something I think you’ll enjoy.”
He guided her over to a small painting of a city divided by a river. Hills of shimmerin
g gold sloped behind it, soaking in sunshine. On either side of the river were two rises. One rise supported a grand castle, the other a temple.
Eira let out a soft gasp, stepping closer to the piece. It was as if someone had cracked her skull and the yolk of her dreams had oozed across the canvas in all its splendor. She knew this place, knew it as well as Solarin or Oparium, even though she had only ever visited it in her daydreams.
“This is…”
“It’s Risen”—the capital of Meru—“or so I’m told. Ambassador Ferro brought this as an offering for the Imperial collection.”
“Why is no one else looking at it?” Eira glanced around. The painting was framed by velvet curtains. Two flame bulbs on either side gave off perfect viewing light. It was treated respectfully. Yet…no one seemed interested in the treasure that was among them.
“It’s been hanging since Ambassador Ferro arrived. There was a special soiree to unveil it, even.”
“But…it’s magnificent.”
“Anything gets old the longer you look at it.”
“I would never grow tired of seeing this,” Eira insisted. “I could stare at it every night before I slumbered and still be eager to wake up and have it be the first thing I see.”
Cullen took a step toward her. In her trance, she hadn’t realized she’d stepped away from him to admire the painting more closely. He stopped at her side. But rather than being fixated on the painting, Cullen focused on her.
“What?” Eira straightened away. Her nose had been nearly touching the oil and canvas.
“You really love it, don’t you?”
“It? Meru?” Eira tucked her hair behind her ears. She wasn’t accustomed to being anyone’s sole attention, not in a good way. First Ferro, now…whatever this expression was from Cullen. Perhaps something about her had changed these past few weeks since she’d dared to enter the trials. “I love it more than anything, save for my family.”
“I…” Cullen trailed off, finally looking to the artwork. His expression wasn’t delight as she would’ve expected.
“You what?” Eira touched his elbow lightly—the only part on his body she felt permitted to come in contact with.
“It’s admirable,” he said, finally. Eira noticed he didn’t immediately withdraw or flinch from her touch. “To be so passionate about something. To not care what anyone else thinks of that passion.”
Eira laughed softly. “It’s not that I don’t care what they think. It’s that I can’t care. It hurts too much when I do. It’s easier to encase myself in—”
“Walls. So they never see the real you. If they don’t really know you, then they can’t really hurt you.”
She had been going to say ice, but… “Yes.” The echo of his voice in the Windwalkers’ study pulsed through her. “You know about that, don’t you?” Eira whispered. “Having to keep people away at all costs just to survive?”
A look of shock, tinged with panic, raced across his face. It was an emotion so raw and real that all the finishing classes in the world couldn’t keep it hidden. Eira stared up at the man, as if she could see him—part of him—for the first time. She’d thought she hated him…but what did she really know about him?
Cullen had his secrets.
“What do you know?” he breathed.
“I don’t know—”
Their conversation ended abruptly as a set of golden doors, emblazoned with the sun of the Empire, opened. They were opposite the main entry and were gilded not just with gold, but with the invisible and palpable aura of royal. From the shadows behind the doors, Prince Romulin emerged with Ferro. The prince made a formal introduction of the ambassador to the court at large. Eira was transfixed by the elfin, as though he had finally emerged from her dreams. Seeing him in the cool light of day after their last meeting was unexpectedly jarring.
“Eira, it’s time,” Cullen whispered to her, underneath Prince Romulin’s introductions.
Right. She gave Cullen a nod and stepped off to the side, moving behind the people who were just as transfixed by Ferro’s presence as she had been.
With a wave of her hand, Eira summoned a wall of illusion in the back corner—a mere step behind the oblivious courtiers. Much like how she had sneaked Alyss into the Waterrunners’ storeroom, Eira stepped behind her illusion. Anyone who took their eyes off Ferro would see an empty corner and a shut door as Eira slipped into a back hall.
The first set of doors led to a place for the lords and ladies to relieve themselves. Farther down, the hall was chained off. Eira ducked underneath the harmless barrier, continuing to a T intersection at the end.
As Cullen instructed, she headed right. Two doors down, Eira entered into a narrow passage that connected with a stair. He’d said that nobles used these chambers to observe people training on the grounds, but Eira couldn’t imagine the ladies and their expensive skirts pressing through these dark halls that wove between palace walls.
Finally, the hall spit her out into a musty room. A skinny window extended like a horizon, splitting a line in the wall opposite her. Her feet came to a stop right before the window; Eira stared at the blinding line of sunlight.
She could turn around. She had no interest in cheating. Eira worried her lower lip between her teeth. But if she did leave…she’d let Marcus down. She’d promised him.
Her thoughts wandered back to her conversation with Cullen. She wanted this more than anyone else in the Tower. She wanted it not for glory or prestige. She wanted it for knowledge…because something far across the sea tugged on her heart more powerfully than the pull of the tides.
Eira left her doubts behind her, and looked out the window.
The training grounds had been completely transformed. Deep ditches had been dug into the packed earth, creating small lakes and valleys. There were wooden and stone structures—some looked like they had been built by craftsmen. But most had the “too-perfect” appearance only magic yielded.
She swept her eyes across the field several times, committing as much as she could to memory. In the back of her mind, there was the phantom ticking of a clock—incessantly reminding her that she had to hurry. Cullen had made it clear that him bringing a lady to court would be noted, thus her absence would be eventually noted as well.
Eira turned away from the window and fumbled back into the passage, nearly blind until her eyes adjusted. The tailoring of her skirts would only permit her to move agonizingly slowly down the stairs. Eira cursed with every step. She’d just closed the door to the passage when Cullen’s voice echoed down the hall.
“Ah, yes, I’m just waiting for my guest,” he said.
“We didn’t see her powdering her nose,” an unfamiliar woman’s voice replied.
“Perhaps she left you, Lord Cullen.” That was Allora. “It was too kind of you to bring her, but you should join us instead.”
“Waterrunners can craft illusions, ladies. Perhaps she merely did not want to answer any of your prying questions and hid.”
Was that a huff she heard in reply? A door closing echoed back to her. Eira began moving again and nearly tumbled face-first into Cullen as he rounded the corner.
“What took you so long?” he hissed.
“You didn’t tell me how far it was.” She glared at the tone he took.
“Come on, we have to—”
Just as Cullen was about to wheel her around the corner there was the sound of doors opening and closing again. His face crumpled into panic and Cullen spun, yanking her back into the shadows. Eira opened her mouth and Cullen pressed his finger over her lips.
She was mildly tempted to nip at it in offense. At least until she heard the voices of those he’d caught a glimpse of.
“Here are the washrooms, Ambassador,” Prince Romulin said.
“Ah, my apologies, I was actually intending to retire to my chambers.” Ferro was with him.
“Did someone in the court commit an offense, sir?”
“Not at all.” Ferro chuckled. It sounded fake to Ei
ra. “It’s only that I have planning to do for the fourth and fifth trials. I want to make sure I’ve designed them just right.”
“You are very diligent in your work.”
Footsteps neared. Panic was on Cullen’s face as he pulled them a step farther from the intersection of the hallways. He leaned forward. Eira stepped away but her back hit the wall.
“That is the passage to the royal wing,” he whispered against her ear. Eira shivered at the feeling of his lips moving against her skin. Cullen was oblivious and pointed down the third, unexplored hall. “If they catch us here it’s going to arouse suspicion that we can’t have.”
“I can illusion us.”
“That assumes they won’t walk through the illusion and bump into us. They might head this way to inspect the progress of the trial.”
Eira bit her lip. “We can just—”
“They might take our pins for this,” he interrupted sternly.
I’ll do whatever it takes. If it ever got out, my family would be ruined. His words echoed in her mind. Was the mysterious “it” what had Cullen so panicked at the idea of being caught out of place? What risks did he keep hidden behind his walls? Or did they have more reasons to be afraid that Eira didn’t yet understand?
Her heart beat so hard against her ribs, she was shocked that Ferro couldn’t hear it with his long ears.
“I want to make sure everything goes smoothly,” Ferro said over the clanking of the chain that barred entry being hung against the wall.
Cullen cursed under his breath. He looked to her, wide-eyed. Eira stared up and mouthed the words, What do we do?
If they tried to flee down the hallway, they would be seen. There was no way they’d make it to the nearest door before Ferro and Romulin rounded that corner. And even if they did make it to the door, they would no doubt hear the door closing and investigate.
“Kiss me,” Cullen breathed.
“What?” The word was a soft gasp.
He put his arms around her waist, pulling her to him. The feeling of his palms sliding smoothly over the silk of her dress melted every wall of ice she’d ever erected. The tides of her magic were raging. They were going to boil her alive.
