She couldn’t see him very well, but she felt how his eyes were pinned on her.
“You aren’t even trying, Kamine. At least dosomething,” Professor Grimot hissed through his clenched teeth.
She bent down to pick up her glasses—which were mercifully not broken—and had only a second to put her arms out as another rock came her way. It scraped her skin hard enough that she felt a trickle of blood run down her forearm.
“Your hands are not going to be the answer.”
Her eyes began to sting, but she fought to keep the tears back. They would not be productive.
“Can I have a break?” she whispered, as she grabbed for the bracelet that was hidden under the sleeve of her shirt.
“Breaks don’t exist in the Undertaking.”
She couldn't do this, but she was trapped with nowhere to go. She wouldn’t run though. She refused to give him that satisfaction.
“Your mother must have been so ashamed when you inherited her eyes, but didn’t get a lick of her abilities.”
“Don’t you dare—” More pebbles attacked them all before she could even finish.
Kamine could feel the other cohorts growing frustrated with her. Not at the person punishing them, but her—because of her incompetence.
“I’m done for today,” she said with a little bite, her toughness gone now that he had taunted her about her mother. He had stepped past a line, into a space she didn’t have the strength to follow him into. She went to the side with the others, acceptingdefeat. Janina tried to speak with her, but Kamine waved her into silence. She didn’t want to cause any more trouble for them.
Professor Grimot had a satisfied air to him as he called up his next victim, one who performed much better than her. Kamine spent the rest of the class leaning on a hard, stone wall. Her injuries ached, and when she rolled up her sleeves, numerous bruises began blooming. Luckily, her bracelet was still intact. She anticipated that when one bruise faded, countless more would be added.
She had her work cut out for her.
“He’s a sick bastard,” Janina said from her spot on the couch. A bag of ice sitting on her shoulder matched that of Kamine’s own.
They were resting in what they guessed to be a shared lounge for the whole cohort. There were a few plush couches, fur rugs, and soft blankets. Maybe the school took pity on the students, and provided at least this one source of comfort. Janina, Zoya, and Kamine felt fortunate to have found it. They were even luckier that none of the others had yet.
“He’s a sadist,” Zoya added. Surprisingly, she came out the most unscathed of the three of them. Her own skills during magic class showed there was a skilled fighter underneath her softness. “I’m sure you’ll show him how great you actually really are. You were the tester today, but you’ll be more prepared next time.”
Kamine appreciated Zoya’s optimism, but she figured it was finally time to reveal the truth that she held back for so long.
“I don’t think so.” They both straightened at that admission. “I have never been able to access my powers. I honestly don’t know if they even exist.” She wrung her hands together, touching thedamned bracelet for comfort, but a sense of relief washed over her now that she had finally admitted her secret out loud.
“I don’t understand—”
“I’m confused—”
They both started, simultaneously. Kamine couldn’t blame them. She too would have a lot of questions. Hell, shedidhave a lot of questions.
“My powers haven’t manifested. They never did when I was young, and they still haven’t. I’ve been trying for years just to be able to push a small stone off the edge of a table.” Kamine shrugged, ashamed at the truth. She remembered being a child, reduced to tears because of how badly she just wanted her magic to work. “I’ve never done it.” But she knew they existed somewhere in the deep well of her soul because even if her magic has never physically revealed itself, once—so long ago—she felt a sudden spark within her. Since then, she had been chasing the same sensation, only to be met with failure.
Zoya ran her hand through her blonde hair, wavy from her braids, twisting it at the end around her finger. “But everyone has at least a little power in this court. Maybe you have used your powers, but it was just so small, it was hard to notice.”
Janina added, “You must be doing something wrong.”
Kamine rubbed her temple, the dim lights now less relaxing and more irritating to her vision. She could really use a breath of fresh air right now. “I promise, I’ve tried everything. The teas, the lessons, the research. All of it amounted to nothing.”
“It’s just,” Janina interjected, “your mother was so skilled. There are tales of her being called a prodigy. Gifted with powers as great as the Weather Gods, from Buraza, herself.”
Her mother's story was not a heroic tale, but a tragedy. The Thunder Goddess Buraza might have given her mother her powers, but Kamine had always described it as a curse, not a gift. Her mother’s powers had a mind of their own, one her mothercould never quell and control, especially after her Undertaking. Kamine feared Damien’s powers would one day do the same, but if she thought of that too long, she worried she might actually claw her way out of here and run away with her brother to another court, so that he would never feel the pressure of their mother’s past.
“Powers are not something we inherit. My mother’s own parents had average skills,” Kamine said.
Janina hummed, her melting bag of ice now forgotten on the floor. “Your mother found the Heart. I would think the Gods would honor that with strong offspring, which is why I still think there must be something great rumbling under your skin.”
