I follow her gesture to a trainee jolting his arm upward every time he casts a small ball of flame. Nice assessment.
“He should focus on one hand at a time, hold it with the other if he needs to and concentrate on casting only enough fire to light a candle.” She looks at me expectantly. “Be best if you tell him.”
“Don’t think he’ll listen to you?” I don’t know why I challenge her like this all the time. I can’t seem to turn that part of me off when I’m around her.
Something sparks in her eyes. “No, I thought it would be better coming from a fellow guard.” She pushes past me and onto the training yard. “But I guess we’ll see.”
I stare after her, a laugh bubbling at the back of my throat. How did I ever think she was anyone else besides Adraa?
“Raja Jatin?” a voice asks.
I whip toward my left to find one of the lead trainers. “Don’t call me that today.”
“Oh, right.” He frowns. “Ah, sir, do you need something?”
“Start to clear the grounds please. We are going to rainbow.” I nod toward Adraa.
His mouth falls open. “She’s going to rainbow with…okay, whatever you say, sir.” He calls to his fellow guards and trainers and they shuffle off the field. A big portion of them sticks around, clogging the perimeter. Oh Gods. Guess they want to see the show.
I peer over at Adraa, not wanting to interrupt her lesson. The kid nods wildly after seeing her demonstrate a small flicker of intense flame. She smiles at something he says and my gut wrenches.It’s nothing,I tell myself. She has a right to smile at anyone she wishes. Then she touches his arm and holds on to his wrist. I take a deep breath.It’s a bloody lesson, Jatin. Get ahold of yourself.
My guards stare from the sidelines, pointing, questioning. They really don’t know who she is. Belwar has always had the custom of privacy, of not letting royals be introduced to the public until after the ceremony. That’s how it is supposed to be, to ensure the gods’ consent for the new generation of rajas and ranis before being named heir. But the gods have not denied a potential heir in hundreds of years. No one has died in decades. At the beginning of school, my name transcended my skill because with my parentage I would surely amass power. I was identified immediately, exposed. But I had the talent everyone expected.
To live a somewhat normal life, not having everyone know who you are at all times, it’s what I’ve yearned for my entire life, what I falsely created with Kalyan at every opportunity. Is that why it’s so easy for Adraa to lie and construct this Jaya Smoke identity? She’s had practice at obscurity.
I laugh as the guardsman twists and flinches in embarrassment at the sudden emptiness around him. He bows to Adraa and runs off the field.
Adraa jogs back to me. “He listened. You can thank me for saving the barracks from burning down one day.”
“Good, one less problem to deal with in the future.”
She watches the crowd of guards awaiting our tournament. “Didn’t realize we would have an audience.”
I shrug. “Rainbows aren’t too common. Most of them are only a four or five.” I pause. “So, race for orange?”
“All right.” Adraa places her obviously new skyglider to the side. Then, unexpectedly, she unknots her pink skirt, folds the fabric in half, and reties it around her waist. Now instead of falling a little below her knees, a breeze brushes the silk across her thighs. She’s still wearing flying pants, but blood, it’s like she knows exactly what to do to distract me.
I force myself to look away and bend into a running stance.
She whips her braid over her shoulder and looks at me. “I hope you aren’t a sore loser.”
Before I can reply, one of the guards yells and we are off.
“Tvarenni!”we both shout. My legs pump hard as the orange magic spreads into my muscles. Dirt slips beneath my shoes and the training field whooshes past me. Adraa surges ahead and I urge my magic to work harder. But within seconds it’s done and I’ve lost. Adraa has already turned to face me beyond the finish line. I duly tune into the roar of my Guard taunting me.
“Two.” She points to herself. “Zero.” She gestures to me, grinning.Gods, why is that smile so aggravating and intoxicating at the same time?
“It’s only the beginning,” I huff.
“Yeah, but I’m setting a precedent.”
I remember now how much I loved competing with Adraa. Sometimes I would run across campus to get to my desk and write her. We were never friends exactly, but she was the first person I wanted to tell of my accomplishments. Other classmates would ignore or taunt me. Father would say things like “that’s nice” or “good job,” but Adraa would get irritated. The more irritated she got, the more I knew I really had done well. It was empowering. But actually standing next to her, feeling my muscles yearn to cast more complicated spells? It’s like the physical embodiment of all those letters and my body loves it, hums with genuine competitive energy. She isn’t holding back either. Never before has someone gone up against me and not held back just a little. At the academy I could imagine the warnings behind closed doors: “Don’t you dare hurt the future Maharaja of Naupure. He’s theonlyheir.”
But all I sense from Adraa is pure fire behind her eyes as she scoops up air and blows it a hundred meters across the training yard and knocks down a target. I hate to admit I barely win yellow magic, but it’s the truth—barely.
I rightly take back my dignity when we get to green. Agsa is known for its agriculture and Adraa is a city witch, born and bred. Growing trees, fruit and all, has always been an expertise of mine. I also win blue magic quite easily, but maybe that’s to be expected knowing my father. I give her a big smile, not unlike the one she doled out to me. “What did you say earlier? Precedent, was it?”
Red mist swirls around her hand until a sword manifests and gleams like blood. “For purple let’s actually duel.” She doesn’t say it too loudly, but the watching guards can sniff the whisper of a fight. They whoop in approval.
