His reservations have fallen away, and in their place he wears a disarming smile. If I didn’t know I was looking into the soul of a wolf, I might have thought we were sharing a laugh. I’m not sure about closing my eyes around him. His eyes slowly narrow the longer I wait. I lean closer, as though I’m sticking my neck through a noose, and clench my eyes shut.
“Good. Now breathe. Slower. In. Out. I want you to remember that image, but I want you to pull back from it a bit. Imagine that snowy field as a painting. Now picture the wall it’s affixed to. It can be anything … but I want you to envision the most impenetrable barrier you can, thick enough that even a dragon with all its might could not shake it.”
It feels a bit stupid, but as I listen to his deep voice, I allow myself to breathe slower, my mind sinking into my body, getting lost in the command of his words. I imagine the field of white, and as my focus steadies, I can pick out the brushstrokes in the canvas, then the gilded frame, made of pure gold. It sits on a wall of plain concrete, lit by torches.
“Focus on that wall, make it real.” His sweet-smelling breath ghosts my face. “Keep it steady. No matter what.”
I sit, imagining the painting behind my closed lids.
And then suddenly, I hear a thud. The picture moves, swinging a bit before clacking against the wall again.
Draven sighs loudly through his nose, distracting me.
“Did you just try to break down my wall?” I ask coyly.
“Yes. You should see what I’m seeing. It’s not going to hold.” Draven shifts his weight on the sofa. I keep focusing on that wall in my mind, a headache forming at my temples.
“It’ll hold,” I growl.
He huffs a laugh, and as I’m staring at that wall, it shakes again, hard. The painting falls to a concrete floor, and I canhearsomething breaking through as if it’s real. The wall dissolves, chunks dropping to the ground as it caves inward. On the other side talons rip and tear, scales glisten, a great glowing purple eye stares back.
My eyes snap open, and the vision fades, but the chill remains, my heart hammering in my chest.
“You sure about that?” His brow rises.
I roll my eyes and say, “Again.”
10The Invitation
King Altair of the Seraphs confirms he is willing to consider altering the arrangements of the betrothal between Princess Reva and Prince Draven, in exchange for the safe return of my daughter, Rune Ryker. The Council of Archseraphs is hopeful this will present our nations with a path toward peace at long last.
—Riordan Ryker, Hand of the King
THE NEXT WEEKS PASSin a blur. Between the constant training of my mental wards, classes, and sparring, I barely notice fall creep its way into Sedah. The volcano cools, no longer streaming an ever-flowing tide of lava, and the rivers begin to slow. The air clears from smoke and debris, and chill breezes snake through the mountainside on autumn winds. The days fill with colors as if doused in paint, the grassy Oval turns gold, and the trees curl in crimson, amber, and brightest orange, their bases surrounded by beds of brilliant leaves.
I wish I was less exhausted to fully appreciate it.
I sit with Ember, Kasper, and Wynter. Amaya, Morgan, and Felix are grouped into the table right beside ours, both groupschatting in the Atrium where we all eat and study. The two-story space has a domed glass ceiling, a running fountain that wends like a river through the lower floor, and various living trees dotted down its center. My favorite spot is upstairs where I can see the fountain in the open space below and look out on the birds who’ve nested in the trees to keep from the coming cold. Most of the first- and second-years sit in the dining hall for meals, but we find it too stuffy.
I cram a blueberry muffin into my mouth, trying to draw on my last dregs of energy for the day as I practice summoning the World card. It’s coming easier now, usually stalling only briefly before it rises. I’m not sure if I’ll be able to bring my tarot deck with me into Nevaeh. Draven confessed he doesn’t know either—if I would remain a changeling forever or become a seraph one day instead. But I push myself to learn as much as I can just in case, especially the High Priestess, which might shield my thoughts from being an open book. And there’s also a part of me that just hates the idea of falling behind.
So, I continue to draw, to give in to learning about my very special Arcana, one that I hate to admit I’ll be sorry to abandon should I have to leave it behind. But despite the World’s massive potential, it needs to siphon magic from the other Arcana to truly do anything, and I still struggle to draw up a second card. Everyone else only needs their Major Arcana card and maybe a Minor Arcana card to enhance their magic, but I need two Major Arcana cards to do anything.
Master of none, but at least I’m not limited to only one.
My attention snags on Mira in a group of other druids across the Atrium. Her arms shake as she helps hang a large golden paper banner announcing the Autumn Equinox Ball. The day after she murdered the changeling boy, she was taken to a post outside the refectory and whipped for all to see. The changelingwho’d attacked Draven, Ward, was flogged beside her, though given surprisingly fewer lashings. His jaw was mended by a healer, the rest left to heal naturally. It’s been weeks, but Mira still struggles to do basic physical tasks. I’ve also seen Ward limping during sparring, slower than his partners now.
Amaya leans forward. “The Autumn Equinox will be your first introduction to the Sedah Court, and thus your first chances to make a good impression. Most druids have already been introduced, as families pay a tithe for such a privilege when we come of age at sixteen. Though some coming from less distinguished families may be making first impressions, too.”
“Me, for example,” Wynter says, his Judgment Arcana spinning magically on the tip of his finger. Now he’s just showing off.
“Ah, so this is the time the Court gets to make dibs, right?” Kasper barely looks up. He’s managed to progress to not only drawing his Arcana butusingit, and I note that he glances up at Ember, who looks suddenly away, cheeks rosy. My gaze snaps back and forth between them, before I check my own mental shields. He leans in and whispers something in her ear and she covers her mouth with her hand, giggling about something.
“These two,” Morgan mutters to the rest of us, copying Amaya’s notes.
I look around, and a curious feeling seizes my chest as I suddenly realize how much I would miss them when I go to Nevaeh. Even sitting in this place, studying this magic. Draven’s taunting face flashes across my vision for a moment. I certainly will not missallof Sedah. I keep my voice low, choosing just one of them to share the news with.
“Hey, Em. I just wanted to say …” I clear my throat. Why is this so hard? My hands fidget in my lap. When was the last time I had a friend? Kiana started out that way … but we quickly became much more than that. Two young women forced tosurvive horrors untold, finding light only in each other. But with Ember, she’s like a sister. Or maybe she could’ve been if I stayed. “At the Equinox Ball, I’m hopefully going to be sent to the seraphs. With my father.”
