Retreating to the Waterrunner storeroom, Eira gathered the things she’d need for the clinic, her bag three times as heavy as normal. Taking a breath and hoping everyone was already focused on their classes or the barrier, she opened the letter.
It read:
Eira,
Word of the trials has reached us and we couldn’t be more excited! This seems like an incredible opportunity, one that shouldn’t be missed.
She smiled, but the expression slipped from her face as she read on.
As you know, your brother has dutifully looked after you for years. He’s supported your time in the Tower from a very young age. Now, we would like to ask you to support him.
These trials will mean a lot for him.
“Mean a lot for him…” she read out loud, seeing if the words felt any better when heard. They didn’t. They felt as bad as they were to read.
Please make sure you give Marcus space to shine. Your uncle tells us that you’re eager to prove yourself. But now isn’t your time. Support your brother as dutifully as he’s supported you.
We’re planning on making the journey to Solarin to see him compete in the second trial. We can’t wait to cheer his success alongside you. Listen to your uncles and focus on your studies.
We love you,
Mother & Father
She read the note twice, willing the words to change. Support Marcus. Step aside. Wait your turn.
“When will it be my turn?” Eira whispered, her voice thin with a pain she couldn’t quite describe. Eira shook her head and shoved the note in the bag. The words were becoming blurry, and if she looked at it any longer the letter would tear her up into smaller pieces than she could hope to put back together.
Trying to put it from her mind, Eira started back down the Tower. But the trials lived on the tongues of every excited apprentice. And the barrier she saw on her way out was yet another weighty reminder.
The Groundbreaker’s cube had been smooth and polished. Her brother had gone for a more…organic approach. Spears of ice wove together into a wicked-looking cage. It radiated plumes of frost. The whole lobby was frigid with its presence.
She had to admit, she was impressed. It looked formidable. And it seemed to be effective at keeping most of the Waterrunners out. Two attempted as Eira wound down the walkway and out of the Tower. Neither could make a single blade of ice budge.
The day dragged on, and on. Yet, somehow, it was over all too soon.
The sun hung low as Eira made her way back to the Tower. She was breathless by the time she arrived, winded by a light jog, determined to beat the sun. As Eira entered the Tower she saw Alyss seated in the back corner, waiting. Fritz had taken up a position by the cage of ice.
Eira froze. She hadn’t accounted for an audience. Alyss, maybe. But not the twenty others who milled about. And certainly not her uncle.
Fritz didn’t notice her. He was focused on his timepiece—no doubt counting down the minutes until the barrier fell and he could collect the board and be done with the sign-ups.
Alyss rose to her feet, summoning Eira’s attention. Do it, she mouthed. Eira swallowed hard. Do it, Alyss insisted silently.
Her parents’ request was still at the forefront of her thoughts. It had been there all day, worming away at her resolve.
With a slow shake of her head, Eira tucked her chin and started up the pathway. It’s better this way, she tried to tell herself. She’d been wrong; Gwen had been wrong. She wasn’t meant for this, Marcus was. He was the shining star of the family—the one who would no doubt follow in their uncle’s shoes. Competing in the Tournament of Five Kingdoms was a good start toward Minister of Sorcery for the Empire, maybe even a lordship like Cullen.
If he did this, he wouldn’t be held back by her anymore.
Eira’s footsteps slowed. She looked over her shoulder, down at the cage of ice. Fritz caught her eye and smiled, giving a small wave.
A surge of wild, and likely misguided, bravery overtook her. No. There was another way to show them all Marcus didn’t need to hold himself back because of her. She could prove she could stand on her own. Swallowing down her nerves and allowing the courage to rise, Eira stalked back down and crossed to the cage of ice.
“Eira? Might I help you with something?” Fritz blinked at her.
“Please excuse me, Minister.” Eira gave a bow of her head and stepped around him.
“Eira—”
Before she could second-guess herself again, Eira held up her hand. The cold sank into her fingers, familiar and welcome. She allowed the tethers of magic to wrap around her forearm. Eira took a step forward and her hand met the bitter ice. She fused to it, magic and flesh.
There was no doubt; this was her brother’s magic. Eira had spent all of her life looking up to him, wanting to be like him. She knew his power better than anyone. She took a breath, and closed her hand into a fist.
The deep-blue ice crunched under her fingers like it was nothing more than frost. The whole barrier fractured with a crack that echoed through the Tower. The ice fell to the floor as water.
Eira lifted her skirts and stepped over the puddle. It rippled and writhed against her magic, trying to reform. Spears of water rose from the ground, frost cracking through them before they fell back down under their own weight. Her brother must be tired from holding the barrier up all day. Because he couldn’t put up much of a fight, wherever he was.
Eira lifted the pen and inked her name, last on the list. Fritz’s gaze bored holes into her skull, but Eira ignored him as she returned the pen and retreated up the Tower, heart racing
