“Shut up, Emerson. There’s no reason to tell her anything,” Rem snapped.
“Alright, then. I’ll do it now,” I said, a bit haughtier than was strictly necessary.
Rem snorted. “We’ll be watching.”
Malwin’s voice dripped with menace. “Break a leg.”
I walked over to the start of the course, stripping off my belongings. Things would be hard enough without the excess weight. I set my map canister and cloak on the ground. Someone behind me let out a long, slow whistle. I didn’t give them the satisfaction of turning around. Sargan yelled over my shoulder, “Oh—did we forget to mention? The phoenix overhead, Fiere, he exposes the metal rings to his flame at the start of the obstacle course. The only way to avoid getting burned is to channel the phoenix’s magic. Good luck, though.”
So much for honor. I guess a sense of duty never precluded anyone from being a bastard.
At that moment, the phoenix adjusted its path, gliding low, underneath the metal rings. As it flew, it released a steady stream of golden-red flame from its mouth. The scarlet feathers of its long, elegant tail dazzled just as brightly as its flame. The rings glowed white-hot. Much too hot to touch. Without magic—the ability to harness the phoenix’s resistance to fire. I thought back to the golden glow that had permeated Malwin’s skin.
They gave me an impossible task.Unless…
I jumped at an unexpected touch. Emerson stood next to me, pressing his hand gently on my shoulder. He looked apologetic. “I was trying to warn you. I’m sorry. There’s no way you’ll be able to complete the course. They just wanted your money. I think they’ll let you leave though once they see you give up. Once they’ve had their fun. Why do you need phoenix flame anyway? Most people covet their healing ash. Is someone you know sick or something? There’s a formal process to access their healing magic, you know. I could put in a good word for you.”
“Thank you for your kindness. But it’s not about an illness.” I stared at the obstacle course, trying to picture myself finishing it and failing. “How does anybody complete this?” I asked, my shoulders drooping.
“It’s not a simple task. It takes a certain sensitivity to mentally connect with a phoenix. To be able to communicate mind to mind. If you have what it takes, you can share its gifts. Fire control and healing. Even levitation if you’re very lucky. Some men never make it all the way through the course. They lack the physical strength to support their own weight all the way, or they never manage to properly channel the necessary fire resistance. Successfully completing the course is the first step toward bonding your own phoenix.”
“Is getting burned the only danger?”
Emerson paled. “No. A lot of men visit the infirmary afterward. I’ve seen all manner of broken limbs. A few of thebeams are high enough that a fall could kill you. If you burn your hands, or lose your grip, or time your release poorly and fail to grab the next ring. That’s rare though…”
“Rare, but not unheard of?”
“Look, you’ll be okay. They don’t actually expect you to attempt the course. It’s impossible. You’ll burn yourself. Just tell them you quit and I’ll make sure they let you leave. I can escort you to the city if you need. My debut can wait. But can I ask you something first?”
“Sure. What did you want to know?”
“Why did you call yourself the Midnight Sovereign? What does that mean?”
“To be honest, I’m still figuring that out.”
Emerson laughed. “Fair enough. You’re the first person I’ve ever seen wander onto our field, so I had to ask. Word of advice? I would avoid coming here unannounced in the future. A lot of the older men would have reported you right away. Or worse. No matter what title you make up for yourself. Or how much money you have. I admire your daring though.”
“Can I take a minute? Before we leave?”
Emerson nodded. “Yeah, of course.”
“Ready to give up yet?” Malwin shouted snidely from the sidelines.
My gaze drifted upward, drawn to the sky. It was a rare day—the moon was faintly visible overhead, even though it was still daylight. A timely reminder that she was always there, even when I couldn’t see her through the sun’s glare. Hidden. Resting. Relieved from duty by the sun, but still present. Apparently, my predecessors could bend moonlight to their will. Was it possible? That she would lend me her powers? Even though she rested above? It seemed like a sign that she was shining so brightly today, bright enough I could catch a glimpse of her through the sunshine.
Reflexively, I clutched my moonstone necklace.A stone of moonlight.Phoenix fire emulated the blistering heat of the sun. To quench it would require me to oppose its nature with something equally powerful.Like concentrated moonlight.Was it possible? To soothe the fiery passion of the sun with the cool tranquility of the moon? I’d never tried to call upon the island’s magic. I’d always ignored the pull of the moon, telling myself everyone was drawn to its presence. Uncertain if Kaylin could feel the same connection. Uncertain if she would be angry at me for seeking it out.
Then again, it wasn’tjustthe island’s magic—was it? Maybe it was time to start thinking about it as the Midnight Sovereign’s magic. As my own. I pictured the cemetery headstones. If there were power within the island, it was borne from the long line of people who had dedicated their lives to its preservation, who faithfully performed their duties, who allowed their bones to be laid to rest within its grounds. I shut my eyes, closing out the world.Here goes nothing.
I let my mind go blank, filling it instead with the deep, solemn tones of the island’s bell at midnight. Focusing on my necklace as a point of connection, something taken from home. I imagined the light of a full moon piercing the darkness. Imagined what it would be like to bathe myself in that moonlight, protected by its soft, ephemeral glow. Holding those images, I breathed deeply, searching for something inside myself that I wasn’t sure existed, that I wasn’t sure I could command.
It was faint. Oh, so faint. But it was there. The tendrils of magic. A soft, silvery light poured forth from my fingertips. I scrutinized the light. But it didn’t disappear. It was real. I summoned it. I willed it to spread, to safeguard my hands.
Emerson cleared his throat. “Are you ready to leave now?”
I looked him in the eye. “I’ve learned something about men like Malwin.”
“What’s that?” he asked, tilting his head.
