Page 116 of War Hour

We can’t wait around for the Heirs, if they even show up. Lord Bralas had made it clear what his priority was before he left—his own court. And while it may be easy for the other Crowns to proclaim their loyalty when joined, doing so while safely stowed away in their own court is another thing entirely.

Glimpsing the ivy crown of my sword’s hand guard, I reach for the blade that Neith had apparently abandoned for a different one before he left. “We need them to head straight there, and even then, it’ll be cutting it close to dawn.”

Sar mumbles to herself, pacing the enclosed space behind me. “Then waiting around for them to arrive is not an option. I’ll have to portal to each court, one by one.”

“Can you do that?”

Sar nods tightly as she tries to project confidence, but then she bites her lip and gives me a window into what she is feeling. “I’ve been to all the courts, so logistically I can. But I’ve never portaled that distance so many times without having a significant rest in between.” At my worried glance, she hurries to insist, “Not that I can’t do it. There always has to be the first time.”

Everyone has their limits, and using her powers this way may ask too much of her. She could burn herself out by tapping into her power’s reserves. And then what? Where would we be then? But I don’t question her about it. She, more than anyone, knows the bounds of her power, not to mention her own limits.

I turn to Sar, a question I’ve been suppressing edging on the tip of my tongue. “Sar, what court—how did you convince someone to let you Trial? Unless it’s from the Court of Self?”

A sad look passes behind Sar’s blue eyes, and I instantly regret the question. Regret asking what could sap out all the life out of her smile. Just a fake curve of her lips.

Sar shakes her head. “No one. I convinced no one. I’ve Trialed four times, three of which successfully, and it was all in my birth court—Wisdom.”

I send Sar an incredulous look. “The same Trial? Why would you Trial again in a court you’ve already passed? What would you gain?”

Sar hesitates, fiddling with the straps of her leather pads. “The way you solve the Trial—the way you beat it—determines what ability you gain.”

I nod as Torryn said something similar when explaining my power to me back in Falland.

Sar continues, “And there are multiple ways to solve—”

I gasp when what she is trying to say breaks through. My eyes go wide with complete astonishment. My hand now hovers above my heart, feeling the beat race under my fingers. “Yousolved it in three different ways, so you have three different abilities?”

Sar gives me a half-hearted smile. “And I’m the only one to have done it. I started at first to just spite my father for not letting me train with Neith, but then it became more. So, I Trialed for every power the court had. Even an extra time to see if there were other ways.”

Sar had given herself permission to be more than others allowed. I stare at her in awe. I want to know more. I want to ask how she’d known it was even possible—Trialing in multiple courts like Torryn had was a different thing than Trialing to complete a Trial.

But then I’m reminded of Evander and the Court of Truth.

“Well, if we all make it out of this, the Court of Truth will owe their lives to that power of yours.”

Grabbing an extra dagger, I hand it to Sar, who accepts the blade gingerly. Letting her fix the weapon on her belt, I continue. “We don’t even know if Lord Gennady and Evander know they are under attack yet. If Drytas doesn’t launch his attack until dawn, they could think they are safe and not know what’s coming.”

Part of me wishes Evander had never left. But then I know his court and his father are better off with him at their side.

“If we go there first and something happens to us, then reinforcements will never come.”

I go silent, hands fumbling over the weapons in front of me. After a beat, I add quietly, “Unless we don’t both go.” Peering over my shoulder, I flinch at Sar’s disposition shift.

Sar’s gaze hardens, her sky-blue eyes going stormy. “Not a chance.” Her tone leaves no room for argument, but I push on anyway.

“We don’t both need to go to the other courts—”

Sar cuts me off, waving her hand dismissively. “I said no, Lysta. I’m not sending you into a literal war zone.”

“It isn’t up to you, Sar.”

She crosses her arms, raising an eyebrow as if to say it is.

I raise my chin, letting her see every ounce of stubbornness I’m ready to throw at her. “I can’t portal. Which means I can’t make my way to each of the courts by myself, but you can. Lord Gennady and Evander need every advantage they can get to win this, and that means they need to be warned. Every minute they can prepare before Drytas gets there may mean surviving until the other courts can arrive.”

Sar frowns deeply, considering my words.

“You know I’m right.” I add quietly. “Nobody can even come near me with my shield. I’ll be fine.”

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