by Elly Blake
The breath left me in a rush. “No.” I couldn’t have failed the second trial. I couldn’t have. If I didn’t pass, I’d never gain access to the library, never learn the truth about the throne. I cringed thinking of all the ways I had failed.
I pushed back to my feet and stumbled from bed. “Where are they?”
“The throne room. But there’s no sense—Ruby!”
I flung myself into the hallway and hurried to the throne room, leaning on the wall for support. I batted away Kai’s hand when he tried to stop me. Finally, he gave up and followed.
Once I reached the room I saw that three masters faced Queen Nalani, who sat on her throne, grim and solemn. Master Dallr spoke in his confident baritone, and I caught the words “rules that must be upheld, no matter the student.”
I blundered in, uncaring that all eyes swung to me, and stopped an inch from Master Dallr.
“I would like to speak in my defense,” I said forcefully, trying not to weave as the room leaned a little to the left.
“This isn’t a trial, Ruby,” Master Dallr said impatiently, “this is a decision for the masters alone, which will be finalized in due course after we have a private discussion with the queen.”
I balled my hands into fists and braced for the queen to berate me and tell me to leave, but when I looked up, Prince Eiko leaned over and whispered something in her ear. The queen’s eyes met mine and held as she said, “You may stay.”
I closed my eyes in relief. If there was any chance of stating my case, I wanted to be here to do it.
“This is highly irregular, Your Majesty,” another master said. “If we let students interfere—”
Queen Nalani raised a palm to halt the master’s argument and said pointedly to me, “But if you stay, you must be silent.”
I bit my lip to keep from arguing and focused on staying upright while Master Dallr sighed in frustration. A second later, I felt Kai’s warmth, one hand hovering at my back, one at my shoulder, presumably in case I decided to pitch forward onto my face. I wanted to tell him to stop rescuing me, especially while that was the very sticking point that was being argued, but the queen had ordered my silence. I settled for turning my head to glare, which earned me a raised eyebrow.
“As I was saying,” Master Dallr continued, “if Prince Kai hadn’t grabbed her arm at the last moment, she would have fallen. The nature of the trials forbids interference. It is in our codes, our sacred rules, which we have observed for generations. To have helped her means a breach of tradition.”
“A breach of tradition,” said Prince Eiko. “So this is the first time something like this has happened?”
“To my knowledge, yes.”
“So, in fact, your codes and rules cannot tell you how to judge this unusual circumstance.”
A vein beat a rapid tempo in Master Dallr’s neck. “The code clearly prohibits the masters from interfering in the trials they judge.”
“But there is no specific prohibition against a student interfering?” Prince Eiko said, his green eyes sparkling with triumph.
“Well… no.”
Prince Eiko made a gesture that clearly said, There you have it.
“It sounds to me as if an exception has occurred,” the queen said into the confused silence.
Kai’s lips tickled my ear as he bent to whisper, “You see?” He was referring to his claim that he was the exception to all rules. My heart was pounding too fast to appreciate levity.
“You must be silent, too, young prince,” Queen Nalani said to Kai.
He nodded in reply.
“The masters have always had the right to make this decision,” Master Dallr argued hotly. “In this, we have always had autonomy.”
He folded his hands and waited, as if he knew he’d just made the winning move.
The queen regarded him silently for several long seconds. Then she inclined her head. “You are quite correct, Master Dallr. It is not a sovereign’s place to interfere in this judgment.”
It was clear where this was going.
I broke my promise of silence, frustrated with the way my fists trembled at my sides. “I might have made it safely without Kai’s help. No one can prove that I wouldn’t have! Let me take the trial again and I won’t argue, whatever the result.”
“Be silent,” the queen said coldly. “Prince Kai, she is clearly ill. Please take her back to her bedroom.”
I looked at Prince Eiko, my whole body trembling, but he merely stared back with sympathy in his eyes. I didn’t need sympathy, I needed a champion. A miracle. I turned to Master Dallr, even though I knew trying to convince him would do no good. His black chain with the key hung outside his robes, winking at me temptingly.
It didn’t take much effort to lose my balance. I merely unlocked my knees and gave into the vertigo that was already making my head spin. As I fell, I made sure to dislodge Kai’s hand from my back with a flailing elbow as I lurched headfirst toward Master Dallr. He had no choice but to catch me, which he did at the last second, just when I was convinced I would crack my head on the hard floor. He grunted as he lifted me into his arms. I grabbed his chain in a convulsive movement, then forced the rest of my body to go limp.
“Take her to her room,” the queen said urgently. “I will send the healer.”
“Of course, Your Majesty,” he said, and strode from the room, the heat of frustration coming off him in waves.
As Master Dallr carried me down the tower steps, the jostling motion gave me the perfect cover to slide my hand along the chain to where a link held the key. With tight fingers, I melted the link, and the key came away in my hand.
When we reached my room, Kai opened the door and hovered as Master Dallr deposited me on the bed. I groaned and rolled over, sliding the key under my pillow. When Master Dallr noticed the loss, I hoped he wouldn’t immediately know it was me who’d taken it.
A minute later, the master left as the healer came in and held pungent herbs under my nose. I feigned waking groggily, answered all his questions, and assured him and Kai that I just needed rest. When the door shut, I breathed a sigh of relief… only to have reality strike harder than a punch, burying me in layer after layer of regret.
If only I had controlled my reactions the way I was supposed to, the bridge wouldn’t have caught fire and I would have made it back without any trouble. I still thought there was a chance I could have made the leap to safety without Kai’s help—I had thrown myself forward, and even if I’d slid, there were rocks and branches I might have grabbed to stop my descent—but there was no way of knowing for sure. The masters had ruled that I’d failed, and the queen had agreed not to interfere. Which meant it was over.
I would never be a Fireblood master. I would never be able to match the gifts of Brother Thistle or Master Dallr. I would never be able to prove my worth to the queen. I hadn’t realized until that moment how much I’d wanted that validation, how much I’d longed for the respect that would come with it. Most of all, I’d wanted to prove it to myself.
I wasn’t strong enough to be a master and, for all I knew, that weakness could mean my defeat once I had to face the Minax. As much as my failure sickened me, there was nothing I could do to change that.
There was only one way to salvage some hope. I had to steal the book.
FIFTEEN
I KEPT THE KEY UNDER MY PILLOW until nightfall, when I’d have the best chance of stealing into the library undetected. After a few hours of rest, I was well enough to dress in dark clothing and slip through the corridors.
As I hid in the midnight shadows near the servants’ entrance, waiting for the changing of the guard, an especially tall figure hurried toward the castle. It could only be Prince Eiko. Rumor had it he spent his evenings in the observatory, a tower mostly hidden by woods east of the castle.
He stopped, his chin rising, his head turning in my direction for a moment. I held my breath. Then he resumed his long-legged stride. I peered around the corner as the guards opened the creaking d
oors for him, making sure he disappeared into the castle. Two more guards arrived and the four began chatting. When their heads were turned away, I crept forward, taking a roundabout route and sticking to shadows as I picked my way through woods and over rocks and found the main road. From there, it was a straight route past the now familiar wharf.
The wharf wasn’t ready to sleep. A tavern facing the road had its door propped open, spilling light and laughter and the reek of sweat into the night air. Sailors guffawed and argued, their rough accents familiar from my time on the ship. I was about to move on, when I caught sight of a familiar broad, sun-lined face. Jaro sat at one of the tables, his cheeks red with drink, his easy smile flashing as his companion spoke and gestured with his hands.
Jaro looked up, and for a second I thought he might have seen me, but then he took another slow sip. I moved on.
A minute later, I heard the clump of approaching footsteps. I spun around, my hands automatically heated and ready to fight.
Jaro chuckled and showed his palms. “I surrender.”
I dropped my arms. “I didn’t think you’d seen me.”
“A good sailor is aware of any passing breeze.” His grin was wide. “Even one from the north.”
I just hoped he wouldn’t ask me why I was passing by so late at night. “How is Aver?”
“Angry. I enrolled her in the school. She would prefer to be at sea with me. But I have a peace offering. I built her a small vessel she can sail around the island.”
“On her own?”
“With a friend. As long as she watches the weather and tells me when she’s going out.”
“Am I considered a friend?”
“Of course, Ruby.” He stuffed his hands in his baggy pockets and rocked back on his heels. “You don’t even need to ask. If you want to sail, you can find me down at the seventh pier most days. Or here in the tavern at night.” His smile widened. “And it’s good to hear you speaking Sudesian. You learned quickly.”
“I had a good teacher.”
He made a dismissive gesture, but he looked pleased.
After we said our good-byes, I continued on until I reached the school. Sweat had beaded on my forehead, and my stomach roiled. The poison’s effects hadn’t left me entirely, but I ignored the discomfort. I needed to be back in the castle before dawn.
I crunched over the gravel drive and entered through the gate. No masters in sight. I crept through the school like a ghost, rolling each leather-clad foot from heel to toe.
The hallway was empty until I reached the black door of the library where two older masters dozed, one with her cheek pressed into her palm, the other with his head leaning against the door. Moonlight spilled in from the arcade of windows, and a single lantern burned from its perch on a hook.
Slowly, carefully, I lifted the lantern and walked it back outside, leaving it in the courtyard. I could barely see the guards in this light, but of course they could summon fire to brighten the scene at any given moment.
I needed to create a diversion.
I was considering lighting one of the straw-filled practice dummies, when a voice nearly startled me out of my skin.
“A little late to be practicing, isn’t it?”
I spun around. A tall form stepped into a patch of moonlight.
“Prince Eiko,” I said, hand to my chest where my heart was trying to break through. “What brings you here?”
The shadows shifted over his face. “I was going to ask you the same question.”
I watched him warily. His eyes glittered green in the moonlight, but his posture was relaxed. He crossed his arms, waiting for me to speak.
Every excuse for being here would sound weak, but I had to tell him something. “I’d hoped to practice alone for a while. It’s so peaceful here at night.”
He paused for several too-loud beats of my heart. “I may not rule this island, but I do know what goes on here. In fact, I know more than most give me credit for.” He took a step closer. “If you tell me what you need, perhaps I can help you.”
I resisted the urge to step back, instead meeting his eyes squarely and trying to read the expression in them. What was he hinting at? And how could I question him without revealing something about myself? I had no reason to distrust him, but not enough reason to blurt out my secrets. It was like sparring blindfolded. “Even if I needed help, why should you want to offer it?”
“I think we might have a common interest.”
I doubted that. I tried to buy time and to draw him out more. “Thank you for pleading my case with the masters.”
His lip curled. “Master Dallr is a pompous—” He cleared his throat. “Well, that is neither here nor there. They seem to have made up their minds. Only the queen would be able to overturn their decision.”
“But she won’t. She said as much.”
“She never has before.” He paused before giving a frustrated little breath. “As much as you don’t trust me, I don’t trust you completely, either, Ruby. You need to meet me halfway. Tell me what you are doing here. Alone. At night. Dressed like a thief.”
My heart stuttered and picked up speed. That was almost an accusation. “I’m dressed for practicing. Am I not allowed to be here?”
“I won’t tell the queen, if that’s what you mean.”
That surprised me, the hint that he would protect me, even if it meant hiding something from his wife. He was trying to gain my trust, but I couldn’t afford to make a mistake. I’d already made too many. This confusing dance was losing its appeal. Time was running out, I had a book to steal, and I was standing here trading riddles with the queen’s consort.
“But it’s only fair to warn you,” he added, “it won’t be easy to draw the guards from their post. If you’re caught, you will have to explain yourself to the masters and to the queen. I don’t think you want to have to do that. Do you?”
My hands fisted at my sides. I didn’t like being pushed. “I told you, I came to practice.”
He ignored that. “In only a few more days, you could have had legitimate access to everything here. But alas, you might have failed your second trial. So here you are now.”
Fear fluttered in my stomach. If he accused me in front of the masters, it was his word against mine.
When I said nothing, his hand sliced the air angrily. “If you continue to waste time, you’ll run out. When you realize that, come see me.”
He turned and disappeared into the dark. It took several minutes for my breathing to return to normal. My mind raced with questions, but they would have to wait. The night was slipping away. I opened my palms, set the practice dummies alight, then ran into the darkened hallway. Pitching my voice lower, I called out, “Fire!” and waited.
The guards rustled into wakefulness, moving from their post to follow the light from the merrily crackling practice dummies. As they ran to the well for a bucket of water, I slid through the dark and up to the library door.
It took a second to unlock, and I was inside. The door scraped the floor as I closed it, reassuring me that no light would bleed into the hallway. I lit a fire in my palm, using it to light four lanterns hanging from hooks.
Bookshelves ran in two rows with a central aisle. Each shelf had a lectern—a shelf that jutted out at waist height—and benches faced the lecterns. The books were all chained so they could be consulted here, but not removed.
There were hundreds of books and scrolls piled on shelves. Fortunately, during my training I’d chatted with some of the masters and gleaned information that hopefully seemed innocuous, expressing a love of books and asking about the libraries in Sudesia. Master Cendric had explained that there was a catalog, a master list of all books, and beside each title, a system of numbers and letters that marked a book’s position on a shelf. I found the catalog easily, a narrow book laid open on a lectern near the door. I held up a lantern and drew my finger down the list, looking for Pernillius the Wise.
There. It was here! Excitement sizzled through me.
I checked the shelf and lectern numbers and found the correct spot.
The book wasn’t there. I double-checked the catalog, then the shelf. It wasn’t where it should be.
I moved to the other shelves and yanked out book after book. I knew the school’s routines by now, and I was running out of time. Before dawn, prayers would start, and the guards would change. That would be my only chance to leave. After that, the school would be too busy.
In my panic, I knocked my elbow against a shelf full of scrolls. Some of them fell to the floor. As I was picking them up, I saw the word throne on one and stopped to unfurl it. It looked like a schedule, with days and times. The title read, “Guard Schedule—Throne,” and the dates were from just last week. But I hadn’t seen a single master guarding Queen Nalani’s throne room. Unless it was only at night…? No, the schedule on the scroll was round-the-clock.
Which suggested another possibility: Was there another throne room?
SIXTEEN
I SPENT THE NEXT DAY SEARCHING the castle for the throne of Sud, chasing my theory that there was another throne room hidden somewhere. I covered every square inch, aside from private bedchambers, and found nothing. As I stomped back to my room, I avoided eye contact with the courtiers and servants, filling the corridors and stairwells with the black cloud of my mood.
I’d made too many assumptions! Perhaps I had simply failed to notice the guards in Queen Nalani’s throne room. The throne on the schedule could be a code for something else. I was so desperate for answers, I was conjuring them from thin air.
I didn’t have the book. I hadn’t passed my trials. I had no idea what my next step should be.
Tired and dejected, I asked Ada to have supper sent to my room, where I sat on the edge of the bed, leaning against one of the corner posts. I was almost desperate enough to approach Prince Eiko, to ask him what he’d meant about our so-called common interest, to risk telling him everything. At this point, any action, no matter how dangerous, would feel better than doing nothing.
