Page 6 of The Fifth Heir

Her expression softened, which somehow made the words sting more.

“That isn’t what I meant.”

“You don’t have to worry. I’m working the ceremony, not participating in it.”

I could not have participated if I wanted to. Candidates were proven dragons, shifted and trained. An unmanifested woman in a gray robe did not belong among the most powerful dragons of her generation.

“No, you’re witnessing it.” Camilla touched my sleeve, avoiding my bruised shoulder. “I want you here. I’m glad you’ll see it.”

There had never been any question that I would watch my sister be chosen. Even if Master Orin had refused to assign me to the ceremony, our parents would have found a place for me in the family gallery. They had spoken for months about the moment the beam would find Camilla and confirm what all of us already knew.

I covered her hand with mine.

“You’ll be brilliant.”

For once, Camilla did not dismiss the praise or tell me the Prism cared nothing for preparation. She simply nodded.

An attendant called her name from beside the central dais.

She withdrew her hand. “Eastern wall, Talia.”

“I’ll be there.”

“And clean your robe.”

I watched her join the other candidates.

People made room for Camilla without being asked. Several greeted her; one offered a respectful inclination of his head. She moved into position near the front, shoulders straight and chin lifted, as comfortable among the realm’s most accomplished dragons as I was among shelves of aging records.

I touched the dusty streak on my robe.

The candidates began filing into the hall, more than I could count at a glance. Most were strangers to me, but along with Camilla, four men had appeared so often in Academy announcements—and in whispered predictions about the Choosing—that nearly everyone knew their names.

Leander entered among the northern delegation in the white and silver of Frost. Pale-haired and severe, he stood tall and lean beneath the formal coat, its icy-blue embroidery catching the light whenever he moved. A trace of frost followed each measured step before melting against the black floor.

Torren wore the deep red of the military training grounds rather than his family’s more elaborate Fire regalia. Gold edged his collar and cuffs like banked flame. He was broader than the men beside him, with close-cut dark hair and a narrow scar through one eyebrow. While the other candidates studied the Crown Prism, he surveyed the exits first.

Rafe was already earning a reprimand for whispering to the candidate beside him. His dark uniform was slashed with silver, the storm markings flashing like lightning whenever he shifted. Black hair fell in careless waves around a face made for trouble, and his easy, crooked smile suggested he considered the reprimand an achievement. Storm-gray light flickered once beneath his skin before disappearing.

Sebastian nearly walked into the man ahead of him because he was studying the inscriptions above the dais. Deep purple threaded the black of his formal Shadow robes, almost invisible until the light touched it. He was dark-haired like Rafe and Torren but leaner, his features more refined and his attention entirely claimed by the runes. A lock fell across his forehead. He pushed it back absently without taking his eyes from the ancient writing.

More candidates continued through the doors behind them, dressed in the colors of every element and every region of the kingdom. By the time the last of them took their places around the dais, the hall seemed crowded with possible futures.

Any four of them might leave the hall today as heirs.

Camilla would be one of them, I had no doubt about that. The only question was which of the others would be chosen to stand beside her.

I returned my attention to the marks beneath the western lamp. From where I stood, the exposed lines appeared to form the edge of a larger pattern. Four prominent runes already surrounded the Prism, positioned at equal distances around the circular floor. Scholars believed they represented the heirs summoned to the Trials.

The hidden marks sat outside that arrangement.

Not outside, I realized.

Between.

I took one step toward them.

Then Camilla looked across the gathering crowd and found me.