Page 10 of Burning Heir

Knox’s calm composure barely slipped, but when his gaze flicked to Monty Garcia, the Serpent of Day, his shoulders stiffened.

“This is bullshit,” he muttered.

I ran my fingers lightly over the circular mark on his palm, where golden rays broke through the lines of his calloused skin. I closed my eyes, half-expecting the same light to spill from my own flesh, but terrified that it wouldn’t. Terrified that I’d be left—what? Empty?

“I can’t look. What’s mine?” I let my wrist dangle, Knox pulling my fingers apart like I wasn’t in control of my own hand.

“You don’t have one,” he said, voice low.

“What?” I yanked my arm back, my pulse thudding in my ears. “How can I not have a mark? How can you be called to Day?”

Around me, everyone seemed oddly calm. Knox had the same circle as the others called to Day—suns, snowflakes, flowers, moons—each person marked. But not me. Not a thing on my palm.

Markless. I was markless.

Knox leaned in closer, his whisper barely a breath. “Maybe it takes a day to show up?”

I didn’t buy it. “I need to talk to Professor Mundair.”

The room filled with the sharp ring of a bell as I pushed through the crowd, only to meet the cold, unblinking stare of the headmaster. His yellow eyes cut through me like he already knew what was wrong.

Was he… Day-blooded?

Curls framed his face, his translucent skin glowing unnaturally under the chandeliers. He took me in, head to toe. “Ah, Fallon’s daughter,” he said, nodding. “I knew this year would be… difficult. It’s always an eventful year when a Blanche child faces trial. But two…” His gaze flicked to me with a hint of curiosity.

“Nice to meet you,” I forced out, my voice tight. “I think my mark isn’t showing.”

“What do you mean, dear?” His expression softened slightly, though I knew he had a truth quell capable of stripping lies. Day-blooded powers were like that.

I opened my fists. “I have no mark, sir.”

He patted my palm with a sharp nod. “It seems the academy believes they made a mistake inviting you. No realm has called to you.” His gaze flicked to where Charles stood, and my blood iced. “They’ll treat you well in Malvoria, given your eldest brother’s ranking. I’m sorry you traveled this far.”

“No, I need to stay! There must be a mistake.” It wasn’t entirely a lie, so maybe his truth quell wouldn’t detect it.

“What is this?” A voice, dripping with annoyance, cut through the tension.

Blonde hair brushed my shoulder as another student shoved past me. “I’ve been marked with the Unknown. Fix this now.”

It took a moment to recognize Malachi Herring, her expression pinched as she spread her palms. Her hands were unnervingly smooth, as though bathed in golden goat’s milk.

“Me too,” I said, showing her my empty palm. “There’s nothing.”

“Interesting.” The headmaster’s voice was distant, calculating. “Well, there must be an explanation. That mark is rare. We don’t know its true origin. Don’t worry, Miss Herring, we’ll sort this out.”

“Let me see.” The voice came from behind—one that had haunted my dreams for the past two years.

Archer Lynch stood in a pool of violet shadows, his gaze sweeping past me to grab Malachi’s wrist. “The academy doesn’t know where to place them because their bloodline is torn between two realms,” he said.

Malachi yanked her arm away, her white boots clicking sharply against the stone. “Send me to Autumn,” she hissed. “The king wants me there. It’s where our family has roots.”

I hesitated. “How can I be torn between two realms? My father is the Serpent of North Colindale.”

Archer kept his focus on Malachi but answered anyway. “What about your mother’s blood?”

“My mother…” I faltered. I’d always assumed she was Winter, but I’d never asked.

“I know exactly what her mother is.” The headmaster’s voice snapped like a whip. “The Serpent Academy doesn’t entertain forbidden quells. Your mother was a death curser. I see that mark in your hair. I know what you are. Perhaps we’ll send you to Malvoria before you tear the school down, just like she did.”

---