Page 89 of Court of Lies and Deceit

I blow out a long steadying breath.

Whatever it takes to win, indeed.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

“Concentrate!” Jocasta snaps.

“Iamconcentrating,” I growl back.

Across the sand, the others are sparring. Isera and Alistair against Draven, Galen, and Lyra. The three dragon shifters are a sight to behold. They fight together so effortlessly that it almost looks as if it was scripted beforehand. Light from the tall windows glint against their swords as they move in perfect synchronization, always anticipating each other’s moves and backing each other up without the need to speak. Draven’s storm magic crackles around him, the lightning illuminating the already bright stone room as it cleaves the air.

On the other side of the rectangular room, Isera and Alistair are trying to push them back. While not nearly as synchronized as their opponents, they have figured out how to work together enough to not hinder each other at least.

It would be an incredibly interesting battle to watch, if I wasn’t already busy failing my own training quite spectacularly.

“If you were concentrating, you would be creating emotions right now,” Jocasta snipes back at me.

Letting my magic fade out again, I shoot her a frustrated look. “It has nothing to do with concentration. I just can’t do it!”

She forces out a breath and rakes her fingers through her long white hair in exasperation. Letting her arms drop back down again, she straightens her spine and pins me with a hard stare. “Yes, you can. We have the same magic, and I can do it.”

“Well, apparently I’m different.”

“That’s just an excuse.”

“It’s not an excuse!”

“You’re just not trying hard enough!”

“Iamtrying!”

“Listen to me,” she snaps, her own frustration boiling over. Throwing out her arm, she stabs a hand towards where our three dragon shifters are fighting. “Apart from Galen and Lyra, who have no magic at all,youare the weak link in this team.”

Her words hit something deep inside me. So deep that I stagger a step back. My anger and frustration evaporate as a rolling nausea takes their place. I hate failing. All my life, just the thought of not being able to live up to people’s expectations of me has made me almost physically ill. And I can barely breathe through the disappointment that I can feel radiating from Jocasta.

But it’s more than that.

That twisting pit in my stomach isn’t just because of my constant need to be liked and accepted. It’s also because I know that she’s right.

“Draven has storm magicandwings,” Jocasta continues, her voice still hard. “Even without his full dragon form, he is still the literal embodiment of his nickname. The Shadow of Death.” She flicks her wrist in Alistair and Isera’s direction. “Alistair has fire magic. Incredibly powerful fire magic, at that. He has the most destructive power out of all of you. And Isera has ice magic. Perfect for both attacking and defending. The ultimate battle magic.” She blows out a harsh breath as she turns back to me. “And then there isyou.”

My chest tightens uncomfortably, and I try to swallow down that sickening feeling in my stomach.

“If I had your raw power, I would be one of the most dangerous people in this city.” She shakes her head at me, but the hard edge to her voice is gone. Replaced instead by bewildered frustration. “But despite all the power you possess, you are severely limited by the fact that you can’t create emotions from nothing.” A hint of desperation bleeds into her voice. “So you need to figure this out. You need to try harder.”

I am trying, I want to snap at her again. But I swallow down the petulant outburst. We’ve been at this for four days now. After the first game, she sat us all down at the kitchen table in her faction house and went through our performance. Overall, she was satisfied. Especially with Isera and the show she put on. She even commended the show I put on when I made the Yellow Faction’s team leader crawl to me and hand over the key. But she also identified our weaknesses, which were Lyra and Galen’s lack of magic. And me.

I already knew that, of course, since I was thinking the same thing during my battles with the other factions. So I threw myself into the training. Jocasta has been working one-on-one with me every day this week, and while I’ve made progress with my ability to share emotions, I still haven’t figured out how to create them.

Swallowing down the hurt inside me, I give Jocasta a nod in acknowledgement of her statement.

She blows out a short sigh and nods back. “Alright, then let’s try again.”

Straightening my spine, I draw in a steadying breath and then summon my magic once more. For these training sessions, I usually use joy as the emotion I’m trying to create, since I know that Jocasta doesn’t already feel it due to all the frustration she harbors instead.

“Now, visualize the emotion like we talked about,” she says. “Then just move it towards me and put the emotion in my chest.” Lifting a hand, she taps it against her chest. “Right here.”

In my mind, I can see that warm yellow spark of joy right in front of me. It’s a different shade than the yellow spark of panic. That one is cold and bright in a harsh way while the flame of joy is a warm yellow tone, like summer flowers, with a slight sparkle to it. It’s one of the more beautiful emotions to visualize.

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