I glance around. Fern and Bloom both stand a step down, right behind me and Daegel. I greet them with a nod, and they return the gesture. They are not mourning. Fern looks bored out of her ass, and Bloom’s eyes glitter with curiosity as she looks around us.
House Dzuni remain at the bottom of the stairs, with the rest of the population gathering behind the nobles. Only one person stands out of place—Vera D’Argent. Dressed in a sharp tailored ivory suit, she stands at the front of the nobles with her head held high.
Her gaze is trained on the top of the stairs, face a mask of nothing.
For someone who doesn’t know what signs to look for, she may appear cold and unbothered, like a marble statue. But when for a brief moment her gaze flicks to mine and our eyes lock, I know.
I recognize that bottomless ache that threatens to consume you at all times too well.
One by one, monks climb the stairs. I turn back to the platform.
“These stairs feel magical,” I whisper to Daegel.
Over his shoulder, he whispers back, “According to our tradition and faith, the spirit of the fallen General will ascend them on their way to the world of the spirits of the gods. This mountain is sacred.”
I look down at the reflection of the blue sky and the sunrays. I’m not sure if it’s my mind playing tricks, or what, but I do feel as close to the gods here as I ever felt in my life.
Just when I think I’ve learned everything about the mystical ways of the fae, there’s more to discover.
Four Ezkai place the cot with the General on top of an obsidian altar and step down from the platform.The Taaslord stands at the bottom of the altar, with his back to us. The monks line up on each side of the altar and start to speak in unison.
I don’t understand a damn word they’re saying. It’s in Old Ekiosh. A very old, specific version of it.
“Do your parents think the Taaslord will go for the General’s position?” Bloom whispers to Fern behind me, which draws my attention to them.
Over my shoulder I see Fern shake her head. “Father said he didn’t participate in the trials after the last General passed away. He doesn’t think he’ll do it this time either.”
Bloom chuckles. “What if he will? It must be boring serving as the second-in-command for so many centuries.”
“What trials?” I whisper at them.
“Val’taz Ezkairin,” Fern says to me. This Old Ekios I do understand.To Burn Worthy. “The new General is chosen during the series of deadly trials.”
“We’re betting who from the Order will enter this time around. It’s an event of a century—I can’t believe we get to witness it!” I don’t miss the gleam of excitement in Bloom’s eyes. “Wanna throw in your bet, Wildarrow?”
I glance at the Ezkai around us. “Anyone’s game?”
“Anyone in the whole Order,” Bloom says, nodding enthusiastically. “I bet on Taaslord Noire.”
Fern rolls her eyes. “He won’t. I told you.”
A newfound hope blooms inside my chest. I don’t dare to even voice that thought aloud to myself.
No way. It would be impossible.
But what if? What if…instead of trying to win the support of the new General, I could become one myself?
Why follow when I can lead?
No, I scold myself. No way could I do this by myself. I may be a strong Decarios, but I’m nowhere near ready to become an Ezkai General.
Mind buzzing, I bite the inside of my cheek and turn back to the platform. In the few minutes I wasn’t looking, the dark clouds have approached us. Deep rumbles echo in the distance.
The air is charged.
A familiar screech reaches my ears. Another one follows. Flaps of powerful wings echo and six dragons emerge from behind the tall mountaintop.
They soar through the dark clouds towards us. Lighting cracks the sky into two, painting the dark grey clouds in vivid reds and blues.
