Page 133 of Burning Heir

Damien surveyed me, noticing my slight grin as guards dragged Callum down the line toward the Spring girl.

“You can’t poison me. This is bullshit!”

His arms thrashed as she cocked her head, and a single tear, clear as a diamond, dripped down her cheek.

“It’s only painful for a moment,” she murmured, wiping the droplet with her thumb before brushing it over Callum’s quivering lower lip. Her voice softened to a whisper, laden with regret. “...I am sorry.”

His jaw erupted in a rash, his face ballooning, crimson ears ablaze as he doubled over, unleashing screams of agony. Skin blistered and melted like burnt leather over flames, contorting as bone threatened to protrude. Guards flanked him on either side, dragging Callum out of sight.

His screams echoed down the hall.

The Spring student bowed, arms flat as a devilish smile curled her lips. “Anyone else?”

He deserved it. That’s what I told myself.

Most of the Serpents’ faces turned grave, unmoved, as student after student performed their quell. The rest of Spring’s quells varied from rain manipulation to flower spawning. One male could speak to plants. Damien was the first to perform forSummer. He stepped forward, and two glass daggers formed in his hand. Damien flicked his wrist, and those glass shards from the wall appeared, hovering in the air, dazzling in a million fluttering orbs before dropping to the ground.

Victor clapped, and a few others joined in unison.

All eyes turned to me as Damien nudged me forward. Then my father sprang from his chair, and those golden eyes burned into me… and so would I.

I would burn.

One by one, I stole the flame from each candle and lantern with only a slight glance until the entire room was shrouded in darkness.

I waited a few seconds as the Serpents began to shuffle in their seats before I swept my gaze over the iron lanterns hung from the ceiling. A black flame shot from my palm, hissing before it formed into a ten-foot snake of ash. It slithered along the stone wall until I sucked it back in, taking a step back.

Victor was the first to speak, his fist slamming into the air. “She is of Forgotten blood. She wielded a snake,” he hissed. “Kill her before she infects the minds of our students.”

Outrage. I’d caused outrage as the king ordered silence. Damien dragged me back beside him. “Stay quiet,” he hissed.

I didn’t know what I did. My father looked broken, as if he still expected ice to ripple from me at any moment. He saw me at the trial, but I never used my flame. Did he know? Had Mother warned him?

Panic gripped me as the king raised his cane. “Silence. Any students found to harbor forbidden quells will be dealt with. Wielding the shape of a snake is hardly due for execution.”

Execution. Every hair on my arm stood tall. My flame was gone, chilled with fear, as Victor kept his eyes peeled on me, one finger resting under his chin.

He knew I was in line to steal his throne. I’m sure it enraged him as Damien gripped my arm and saw nothing but himself standing beside my mother years before. Rivals. He hoped we were that, hoped Damien would be the one to end me as he knocked back his dark, swirling drink.

After Summer came Autumn, and Malachi was the second last to perform as she twirled her finger in the air, creating a whisper of screams within the wind that had nearly every student holding their ears in pain. She curled the wind back into her palm with a snap.

Whose screams were those? Had they mimicked the voices of the fallen students during the trials?

Winter was next. Everett appeared as confused as ever, especially when his quell was weak and could barely produce a single snowflake. He shook his head in frustration as he struck a light from each finger—a blinding light as I palmed my sight.

The king tapped his fingers on his cane. “It is rare to see a student harbor a quell from two different realms. Tell me, when did the Winter quell come in?” He gripped the arms of his throne, leaning forward a bit. His salted beard speckled, illuminating the wiry hair intricately braided along his jaw.

Everett cleared his throat. “During Skyfall. I have trained my entire life to lead Day. Monty was my leader for two years.” He didn’t outright confess his indifference toward being a Serpent of the frozen valleys, but anyone could understand the true weight of his words.

Myla wanted it. She wanted to become a Serpent as her late father was.

Bridger raised his frosted palms. Snow danced in the air, flurried as we breathed chills into our chests. The air clouded, and vapor rose, clinging around the lantern light like frozen moths. Father looked impressed, as did Lasar, who curled a finger under his chin.

Lasar muttered something to Father, and all I caught was his last words. “…the boy could be your heir.”

The king waved a golden-ringed hand as Knox took his stance. And I believed for a moment that Father had no idea that neither of his children would ever be the heir to his title as a rope of light whipped out. The king tilted on the edge of his seat as if that neval streak in his hair would display a forbidden quell.

Daylight turned into an outpour of calm vibrations soothing the air. An unnatural emotion breached our bodies, slowing our racing hearts. The king flinched forward, enthralled in my brother’s mental quell. And I wondered why Damien never mentioned his mind reading. Perhaps that quell was dangerous for the wielder in a room that held the most powerful humans on the Continent.

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