Page 85 of Daughter of No Worlds

Every request, met with an easy smile and a “yes, and?”

By the time the first part of the evaluations concluded, I was feeling very pleased with myself.

“I’m both disgusted and impressed by the delight with which you flaunt your superiority over a bunch of children,” Max said, when I rejoined him between stages. “At least try to look like you aren’t enjoying it quite so much.”

“Why?”

“Some might call it distasteful.”

I gave him a sly smirk. “But not you.”

The corner of his mouth twitched. “No,” he admitted. “Not me.”

I knew he loved every minute of it just as much as I did. And just as there was no use in him denying that, I couldn’t deny that his support curled around my heart and squeezed.

Still, I was nervous about what lay ahead. Too nervous, at least, to eat much of anything, so instead Max and I used the recess to slip across the lobby to the Tower of Daybreak and peer in on the Solarie evaluations. One look at Sammerin sitting in the spectator’s area, sagging in his chair, staring through the windows with a look of what I could only describe as resigned horror, told me exactly how Moth’s tests were going.

I grimaced. “Poor Moth.”

Max chuckled. “PoorSammerin.”

We heard the faint echo of a crash, a flurry of activity from the next room, and whatever Sammerin was seeing made him put his head in his hands and let out a heaving sigh.

We took that as our cue to leave.

When we returned to the Tower of Midnight at the end of midday recess, Willa was waiting for us. Her face brightened as we approached.

“There you are! I wanted to congratulate you on those group evaluations, Tisaanah. You were terrific.”

“Too early for congratulations,” I said, but found myself suppressing a grin anyway.

She gave a cheerful shrug. “Well, still. I don’t think anyone could argue. All that’s left now is your individual evaluation. That’s why I’ve come to get you, actually.”

A knot tugged in my stomach. I had been particularly nervous about this part, mostly because I had no idea what to expect. My eyes found a group of other apprentices heading down a hallway, and I nodded. “I’m ready,” I said.

I began to walk in that direction, but Willa’s voice stopped me. “Oh, no, dear — yours will be somewhere else.” She gave me a faint smile. “Come with me.”

I hesitated. Exchanged a brief, nervous glance with Max.

A good thing, maybe, I told myself. I was clearly an unusual case. Of course, my test would be different.

“Alright,” I said, and I followed her.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Iwas led into a large, circular room. Perhaps on typical occasions, it was a ballroom or some kind of event space. Today, it was stripped completely bare, devoid of decoration other than the moons etched into the wall and the glistening beauty of the white marble floor. Only four objects stood in it: three pedestals, each holding a simple silver sphere. And, in the center of the room, there was a large, smooth basin. Nura stood beside it, arms clasped in front of her, waiting for me.

The sight of her stirred a nervous surprise in my stomach. I wouldn’t have expected someone so important to be here.

I looked over my shoulder, up at the balcony that curved over half of the room. Max learned over the rail, watching, fingers intertwined. When I looked at him, he gave me an uneasy smile. I suspected he had the same thought that I did.

Nura cleared her throat, and my eyes snapped back to her.

“This,” she said, “will be your more advanced evaluation. You’ll notice that there are three spheres in this room.” She gestured to the three pedestals, arranged around the edges of the room in a triangle formation. “Your goal is to take each of these sphere and deposit them in the basin at the center of the room.” She placed her hand on the curved lip.

My eyes darted between the three spheres. Then the basin. It seemed too simple. And too… gamelike. I wondered if this was normal — a standard part of every evaluation. Or if this was a task cooked up just for me.

“Do you understand?” Nura asked. As always, she was unreadable.

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