Page 61 of A Reign of Embers

Another is a coordinating rhythm. When I see the rats returned to their previous activity and prompt the soldiers, they start tapping one foot, matching the beats to each other.

Tobelle’s shoulders tense as she gives Farro’s arm a quick squeeze to indicate they should both begin using their gifts. Their faces tighten into similar masks of concentration.

Maybe it’s only wishful thinking, but I’d swear a quiver of magical energy passes through the air and over my skin. The rats start to mill about in a much more frantic fashion.

The soldiers take a few steps toward them, tentative and then dropping their feet with more force while keeping up the thudding rhythm that’s connecting them. The rodents don’t appear to notice them at all, too busy colliding with each other and heaving themselves out of view, not just behind the statue but farther away.

They definitely look more panicked than Farro was able to accomplish on his own, without taking note of the only real potential threat that’s approaching them.

Even as my spirits lift, the soldiers tramp closer—and the spell must break. The rats that were still scrambling around each other go still and then shake themselves. They peer at the nearby humans, one of them letting out an indignant squeak, and trot off around the base of the statue at a leisurely pace.

The soldiers’ arms sag apart at their sides.

Tobelle spins around, rubbing her temple. “I’m sorry. Maybe it’s because I was trying so hard to affect all of them—I’m already feeling close to my limit.”

The records in the Cotean book did also suggest that combining gifts often takes more energy out of the casters than if they were working alone—especially when they’re not all that naturally aligned.

“That’s all right,” I tell her. “It was a great start.”

Pierus gazes around the temple with obvious awe. “It was amazing. So many wonders this world holds with the blessings of the gods.”

Axius claps his hands together. “It does. Let’s get back to the palace, and we’ll find other ways to practice going forward.”

When he’s climbed into the imperial carriage alongside Pierus, Evando, and me, the high commander lowers his voice for our ears only. “I wasn’t sure this experiment would be worth all the fuss… but I can’t deny there could be advantages, if we can match up the right gifts and put them to work in an ideal place on the field. When you have a smaller force, you do sometimes need to turn to creativity to win the day, even if it complicates your strategy.”

A light laugh escapes me. “I hope our creativity is enough.”

Despite his approval, the flare of exhilaration that lit in me when I saw the soldiers working their gifts in tandem has guttered. It’s progress, yes—but are we going to make enough of that to have an effective strategy in time?

As the carriage rattles over the cobblestones, Evando adjusts his position on the cushioned seat. “The princes are definitely setting out in the morn?”

The innocent question hits me like a jab to the gut.

I manage to keep my tone mild. “Yes, the plans are setnow. They’ll leave in the early hours when they’re the least likely to be observed.”

“May the empire’s luck go with them,” the captain says, but his expression turns brooding as his gaze slides to the window.

Is he worried about the princes’ loyalties—or about how one particular prince will fare on his journey? It doesn’t feel like my place to pry.

It doesn’t feel as if I’ve done enough to ensure any of the fostered royals will make it back to Dariu safely.

I peer out the window at the passing buildings, and my gaze snags on the elegant towers of the city’s largest Esteran temple off to the east. Will my gift of the stolen books be enough to win Estera over to our side, for whatever help the godlen of wisdom can provide?

How much haveIeven done, just putting those books in the princes’ hands to carry out the perilous part?

The comments Bastien’s father made to me months ago rise up from my memory—the questions about how much I’ve stretched my gift. A lump fills my throat.

I want to heal the empire. I want to cure anything that’s gone sour in my relations with the godlen whose support I need.

Could I make a different sort of appeal work? It isn’t that different from how I reached out to Sabrelle in the temple weeks ago—although she simply shunned me.

I can hope that the godlen of wisdom will be more open to hearing me out.

I focus on the distant spires and reach toward my gift. If I wanted to mend any ill-feeling between myself and Estera, make my relationship with her as healthy as possible… what would it take?

Images waver and flit behind my eyes. I see arms reaching up and a greenish light streaming down to meet them. Asensation of propelling higher, of soaring upward, ripples through my body.

I blink, and the impression fades, but my heart keeps pounding faster. I think I know what would catch Estera’s attention.

---