Page 9 of Daughter of the Ninth Line: Part Two

I gritted my teeth. I’d never been to court in my life, and didn’t know how to dance either. I didn’t correct the instructor, though. Instead, I did what he said.

Jab. Jab. Turn. Sweep. Catch your own ankle. Fall on face in dirt.

This was ridiculous.

Viana from the Twelfth Line reached down and pulled me back to my feet. “I feel like I should apologize, but that was all you.”

I huffed. “How are you so good at this?”

She shrugged and got back into a fighting stance. “Practice?”

I squinted at her. “I hate you a little right now.”

Eugene from the Fourth Line, who I’d met a couple of times but avoided, strode over to me, a sneer on his face. “Lower Line scum. You’re making us all look bad.”

Viana pushed her shoulders back, stepping forward to make him eat his words, but I’d seen Eugene fight—he fought well, and he fought dirty. A bad combination. My hatred for Eugenewas almost visceral, an on-sight loathing that I didn’t really understand, but I trusted my gut. If it said that Eugene was a snake, I’d treat him as such.

Putting my hand out to stop Viana from taking a swing at him, I cocked my head like I was appraising him and found him wanting. “You make yourself look bad without any assistance from us,” I told him coolly, then turned my back.

The crackle of the air around us told me that this was a poor decision, that turning your back on someone as powerful as a Fourth Line Heir was a good way to get dead quickly, but I didn’t let myself quake.

The sky went dark, the winds whipped up, and the fact that the Fourth Line power was weather control came flooding back into my brain from my tutoring. Extremely powerful Fourth Liners could target an enemy with a well-aimed hailstone, drown them in a flash flood, or strike them down with lightning.

Fear had me glancing up just in time to see hailstones hurtling toward me and Viana. “Look out!” I pushed her to the ground, covering her head with my body and protecting my own with my arms. Several small hailstones hit me before the storm just… stopped.

Glancing up, I realized it hadn’t stopped at all. Rather, an umbrella of air was flowing above my head. Vox Vylan walked toward me, his face impassive, but I could see his hand clenched into a fist by his side. Looking up, I watched the hail bouncing off the air canopy he’d created around Viana and I.

Vox didn’t even look at me as he walked over to Eugene. “What are you doing?”

Eugene smirked. “Teaching a lesson about the social hierarchy.”

Throwing back his head with a laugh, Vox slapped him on the back. “I didn’t realise they’d made you an instructorhere. Should we start calling you Instructor Rovan, instead of Eugene?”

I wanted to get out of here, but only the air umbrella was protecting me from getting pummeled. Everyone else was on the edge of the training ring, unable to move through the hail toward us. We were trapped. Well, except for Vox.

All the Twelfth Line conscripts—including the guy whose lap Viana had been sitting on earlier in the week—looked terrified for their friend. No one would be terrified for me, which was a depressing thought.

Eugene was still laughing with Vox. “Maybe you should. It’s time the Lower Six learned that we’re their betters, don’t you think?” His eyes sparkled with the feverish shine of a zealot.

Vox’s expression was condescending before something shifted, his eyes reflecting pure danger. If Eugene had any sense, he’d run. But apparently, the pompous Heir didn’t.

“Maybe I should put all the Lower Lines in their place,” Vox murmured. “I’ll start with you.” His hand whipped out, and suddenly, Eugene was on his knees, gasping. “You need to learn your place, Eugene, and it isn’t tormenting the Lower Lines. It’s right here, on your knees, swearing fealty to your betters. Tome.You’re little better than the Twelfth Line with no magic. Weak. At least they find some nobility in it. You wouldn’t know nobility if it bit you in the ass, or in this case, was presented to you on a silver platter.”

Vox’s lip curled in disgust. “So while you’re down there, coming up with ways to make yourself feel larger, remember that there’s always someone stronger, who’ll relish doing the same to you.”

Eugene shouted, gritting his teeth as hail as big as cannonballs pelted against Vox’s air shield. The other members of the First Line stood just outside the fenced arena, and their faces looked stressed, but they were being held back bythe instructors. There were rules in Boellium, of conduct and combat. Once you were in the middle of a battle, you couldn’t leave until one of you was declared the victor. No one else in your Line could interfere either, not without great shame.

Viana screamed as hail pounded against the dome of protection, and we huddled together close to the ground. Thunder and lightning cracked the sky, and terror I hadn’t ever felt before ran through my veins. Like an old fear that I couldn’t quite remember.

Another flash, another crack, and I screamed. I’d never been scared of storms before, but something was whispering at the back of my brain. The echo of a nightmare.

One of the huge rounds of hail finally punctured the air dome, and I screeched as it barely missed me. Scrabbling away from the hole, I unfortunately crawled straight into the path of another chunk of hail piercing the veil. The ball of ice barrelled toward my face, and its icy kiss of pain was the last thing I felt before blackness swamped me.

Seven

Avalon

“Maybe we should take her to the healer again?”

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