He held up his glass. “To us,” he said quietly, and though she listened for it, there was no trace of sarcasm in his voice.
She clinked her glass against his. “To us,” she agreed.
Allyra took a sip of the wine and allowed the cool, crisp liquid to run slowly down her throat, relishing in its sharp taste.
“Has anyone else finished?” she asked.
Jason shook his head. “Nope, they’re all still out there.”
The fact that twelve hours had passed and they were still the only pair to have finished the Second Final put their achievement into sharp clarity. With a wry smile, Allyra thought about Chi and how she’d have to save him a drink instead.
It seemed only fair that a test held at the Atmospheric College would favor Atmospherics. But since few Atmospherics even attempted the Trials, never mind came second or indeed won it, meant that she had been the only Atmospheric in the Second Final. This meant that every other pair was still suffering the effects of the extreme altitude, no doubt slowing them down significantly.
After dinner, the two of them snuck cake and more wine out onto a second-floor balcony and silently watched the surrounding desert for any sign of movement. Jason left to go to bed somewhere around midnight, but Allyra found sleep difficult to come by, and she stayed on the balcony watching for any Five Finals Competitors. Her eyelids grew heavier as night dripped toward dawn. And in the otherworldly time trapped between sleep and wakefulness, she slipped into a memory.
A swirling, seething mass of sand and dust slammed against the dome of air created by the Assembly of Wind. The sandstorm was alive in its ferocity, writhing and pounding relentlessly against the protective barrier, searching for a weakness. It was so massive that it blocked out any light, bathing the Atmospheric College in an unnatural darkness, and beyond its savagery, Allyra couldn’t tell if it was day or night.
She stood up and walked to the edge of the balcony. The horror of the storm took hold of her, and reflexively, her fingers tightened on the railing. Beyond it, two people were walking out to the edge of the protective dome. The first of them she recognized immediately—there was no mistaking Alex’s easy grace and his endless, barely contained energy.
Before she could take a closer look at his companion, her perspective shifted abruptly, disorientating her for a brief, stomach-churning moment. When she looked up again, she was looking straight at Alex.
His eyes widened in brief recognition, but otherwise, he didn’t react, seemingly unperturbed by her sudden appearance. He carried on his conversation with poise.
“You asked me here,” Alex said evenly, no trace of fear or even unease in his voice despite the raging storm that confronted him. “Can you tell me why High Master Laurent?”
His words were directed at the tall, statuesque woman standing at his side. Her long blonde hair fell straight, held out of her face by a pair of ornate combs, decorated with iridescent pearls. Her blue eyes were so pale they were almost colorless. The signet ring on her finger identified her as the Atmospheric High Master of Alex’s time. Her face was pinched with worry, and dark circles were sunken beneath her eyes.
“The storm has grown beyond our control, Mr. Cairns,” she said, her voice low and husky, her words carried by a musical lilt. There was presence and charisma in her voice, and with a few words, she grabbed Allyra’s attention, making her listen even more carefully.
Allyra glanced at Alex—the Atmospheric High Master had referred to him as “Mister,”’ which meant this was before he was chosen, before he took his place as head of the Gifted Council.
“The Assembly of Wind?” Alex queried.
“Are barely holding on. They have sought to control this storm for almost two days now. They have managed to move the storm from more populated areas, allowing us to evacuate homes to minimize human casualties. However, the worst of the storm is gathered here, and I’m afraid they will soon reach the end of their Gifts. If the protection fails, we stand to lose the Atmospheric Great College.”
“The college has been evacuated, has it not?”
“Yes, but it isn’t just the college we stand to lose. Stone and mortar can always be rebuilt, but if the Assembly of Wind fails—then many innocent lives may be lost. Their Gifts are the only things controlling this storm. If they lose their lives in this fight, then the rage of this storm will be unleashed. Think of the thousands of lives contained in towns and villages.”
Alex looked at the Atmospheric High Master steadily. “We cannot undo every storm or natural event. The Gifted protects but never at the cost of interfering with nature.”
“I agree, Mr. Cairns. However, this is not a natural event. The Rising is behind this.”
Allyra stiffened at the mention of the Rising. She had believed that the Rising had come into existence after the Betrayal, their purpose to find an alternative explanation for the events that had occurred. However, it now seemed that some iteration of the Rising had existed even in Alex’s time.
“A direct attack against one of the Great Colleges?” Alex asked, his brow furrowed with concern. “That doesn’t sound like the Rising—they are no more than petty malcontents, more apt to talk than action.”
“That might have been true once,” High Master Laurent replied with a weary sigh. “But things have changed in the past year. They have been actively challenging the authority of the Council, though never anything quite
