Page 83 of The Song of Sunrise
Damn. To think, third-stones syphon three times that amount of the source. I shudder.
Professor Gregorio notices and adds to the rest of the group, “This is whymyragesare such an advanced spell to cast. You may succeed in casting the initialmyrage, bending the light in ways that create the outcome you desire. However it takes almost double the energy to hold that spell in place. One distraction”—he snaps his hands for dramatic effect—“and your entiremyragefalls.”
The corridors are pretty much empty as I work my way outside. I pull my leather corset tighter around my waist, the tightness alone keeping me together. I bite my lip and accidentally trip on a particularly uneven stone.
Goddess! Be aware of your surroundings, Akemi.
The air is frigid, sharp as glass against my skin, and I immediately regret not grabbing another layer. My breath fogs in front of me as I tug my earmuffs down over my ears, trying to trap what little warmth I have left. Frost crunches beneath my boots as I make my way across the clearing to where my team is waiting.
Selene stands with her arms wrapped around herself, her long, wavy black hair tousled by the wind. Her battle leathers hug her slender frame, the dark material catching the pale winter light. She’s stunning even half-frozen, her rich brown skin flushed slightly from the cold. “Hey, Akemi,” she says through chattering teeth, rubbing her gloved hands together in a futile attempt to warm them.
Gryphon towers beside her, massive and unmoved, like the cold hasn’t even touched him. His messy brown hair is already dusted with frost, and yet he stands relaxed, arms crossed over his broad chest, battle leathers straining across thick muscle. If he’s cold, he doesn’t show it. His breath hangs in the air likesteam from a furnace, steady and unbothered. “I’m not sure we would have been prepared if it weren’t for you.”
“Thanks,” I say, “but we still don’t know exactly what they are going to make us do.” My stomach sinks just thinking about how many more days other teams were practicing when we only had a couple nights.
Selene rolls her shoulders back, exuding confidence. “We can do this. If there is one thing I’m known for, it is not backing down from a challenge.”
We walk down the steps toward the amphitheater crater where the Presentation was hosted. Professor Novak is hastily instructing the champions to line up. Sure enough, all of the champions are clustered in teams.
Professor Novak hands us each a black strip of fabric. Our team color, Terraguard black. Selene, Gryphon, and I knot them around our upper arms as other nearby groups do the same. A red strap for the Jord, Forest Tribe team with green, River team with ivory, and the Human team with our traditional cobalt blue.
The crowd is eddied with excitement and bundled under blankets. Small fire orbs created by Sun’chers float at intervals, warming the onlookers. Sponsors once again are lined up at the end of the stadium, royal house colors matching that of their teams.
Even from this distance, I can sense him.
The Terraguard Underworld Lord.
Atlys.
From his height, to his posture, to his casual air of confidence, I know exactly where he is, like a set of magnets pulling together into a magnetic field. Atlys is the tallest figure in a tailored black coat, not bothering to wear armor like the rest of the sponsors. The tattoos on his neck swirl like smoke from above the collar of his shirt. Even the way he bends to fill his goblet with a dark red wine somehow drips with decadence and lethal precision.
A gust of wind slices through the crater, and I shiver. At that exact moment, Atlys turns and looks directly at me. I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to how startling those silver eyes are.
Stay warm, my Sunrise.
Stop reading my thoughts, I chide, though I’m immensely grateful for the warmth laced in foreign source magic that washes over me.
Did he just use his magic to make me warmer? My shoulders roll back, loosening some of the tension.
Atlys looks to Damaris and Cadex, likely speaking directly into their minds. After a second, I see Selene sigh with relief and Gryphon’s fingers unclench. Damaris and Cadex are likely giving their champions a magical blanket of warmth. Technically, no channeling stones are allowed to the champions during the Summit, but there aren’t any rules caging the sponsor magic. However, it’s considered bad enough taste that they withhold—at least outwardly—from using their magic to benefit their champions.
“Let’s get this started already,” Sabra snaps, her voice slicing through the cold like a blade. She doesn’t bother to hide her irritation as she barks at the rest of her Jord team, pitch-black eyes flashing with contempt. Every inch of her lithe frame radiates impatience, her black-and-red hair whipping in the wind like a warning. Sabra was chosen by the Jord Court, of course. Like calls to like. Cold, ruthless, and quick to strike.
And where Sabra is sharp and cutting, her older brother Ragnar is a brute force incarnate. He stands just behind her like a wall of muscle, broad shoulders squared and tense, as if daring someone to give him a reason to charge. His shoulder-length red hair fans around a scarred, grim face that doesn’t seem capable of anything resembling kindness. He looks like a bull barely held in check.
I don’t bother hiding the disgust on my face. They’ve been awful since the moment I joined the Watch—sneering, snarling, and clearly enjoying every second of it.
Ragnar catches me staring. His eyes narrow.
“I’ll watch our backs for that piece of shit,” Gryphon whispers to me and Selene, gesturing to Ragnar. Besides Castor and possibly Leaf, he is the only other cadet even close to Ragnar’s size and capabilities.
“Thanks, Gryph.” I smile at him and squeeze his arm, and the big hulk of a man smiles back. I’m very glad I have him on my team. He nudges my shoulder and flashes a contagious smile that I cannot help but return. Almost indiscernibly, my body temperature drops just for a moment. Like Atlys is watching this very interaction and is not pleased with it.
I should hate him.
This is the third time he’s helped me—first with the spring, then with Castor, and now, using his magic to keep me warm. Hell, he shoved me to the ground last night,twice! No apology. No explanation. And yet, somehow, he keeps showing up when I need him.
It doesn’t add up.
