“It better be,” Marcus said with a note of warning. “Come, Eira, we don’t want to keep the Minister of Sorcery waiting.” Marcus breezed past her and up the Tower. Eira followed dutifully behind.
“Run along, coward,” Noelle hissed, just loud enough that Eira could be sure it wasn’t a magical whisper from the wall, or door, or floor.
Eira paused, glancing over her shoulder and meeting Noelle’s black eyes.
“Isn’t it nice to have Mister Perfect for a brother, who always comes to your defense? Wonder what would’ve happened to you if you didn’t have him to keep you in check and your uncle as the minister. The senate would have eaten you alive.” She sneered, her pretty face twisting into something that more resembled the ugliness in her soul.
Eira simply stared. She kept her mind vacant—as though she were sinking deeper and deeper into the bitter cold of the ocean that rolled within her. Underneath the water, everything was muted, distant, and dull. Voices couldn’t carry. No one could reach her.
“Eira?” Marcus called.
Snapping back to reality, Eira followed swiftly behind, leaving Noelle and Adam standing in the walkway. “I don’t need your help.”
“I didn’t do anything.” Her brother rolled his eyes.
“Yes, you did.”
“Well, what do you expect?” He sighed. “I’m not going to just stand by and watch them harass you.”
Because you’re afraid of what will happen if they push me too far, Eira added mentally. “If you keep standing up for me, they’ll never stop.”
“That something Alyss told you?” He arched a dark blond eyebrow at her, knowing he had her pegged. Marcus had hair more like their parents—a honey gold, darkened with bronze. Whereas Eira’s hair was a platinum shade, so bright it looked nearly stark white in sunlight.
“Maybe.” Eira twisted the strap of her bag. “But she’s not wrong.”
He sighed. “Eira, I told Mom and Dad I would protect and look after you. I promised Uncle Fritz and Uncle Grahm, too.”
“I just turned eighteen. I don’t think it’s really necessary to protect me anymore.”
“Yet I always will.” His large palm landed heavily on the top of her head and Marcus shook it back and forth.
“You’re going to mess up my hair.” She swatted his hand away.
“How will anyone tell the difference?”
Eira scowled at him, which only made him laugh.
“Don’t give me that look. Come on, Eira, smile. It’s been so long since I’ve seen you smile.”
“Let’s just get our assignments for the day.” Eira crossed to the second-to-last door in the Tower of Sorcerers, nearly at the very top—the office of the Minister of Sorcery. She knocked quickly.
“Come in.”
Within was a room as familiar to her as her home back in Oparium.
A large desk was situated in the center, facing the door. Two chairs were positioned on one side, set up for conversations. Expansive windows provided breathtaking views of the jagged peaks that topped the mountains surrounding the capital of the Solaris Empire. All manner of worktables and storage were crammed around the windows. Something was always bubbling softly on their surfaces.
Behind the desk was a man with rich blue eyes and hair that matched Marcus’s. He was as much a fixture of this room in Eira’s mind as the beakers or cauldrons.
“Ah, hello, you two!” Fritz, the Minister of Sorcery, stood.
“Minister,” Eira said with a polite nod.
“Always so formal.” Fritz rounded the desk with a shake of his head. He scooped up Marcus in a bear hug, even though Marcus was head and shoulders taller. “It’s good to see you both.”
“Good to see you, too, Uncle,” Marcus said.
“You saw us two days ago.” Yet Eira relented to her eager uncle, giving him a gentle squeeze as he crushed her so hard her back popped.
“Oh, there you go, I heard that.” Fritz chuckled. “Feel better?”
“Yes, actually.” Eira stretched, forward and back.
“And just because I saw you two days ago doesn’t mean I don’t miss you. It feels like just yesterday you two arrived at the Tower, hand in hand, playing in my office—”
“Yes, we know, Uncle.” Eira gave him a smile and a pat on the shoulder. “Now, may we have our assignments?”
“Are you running off to meet Alyss?”
“If our assignments happen to coincide again,” Eira admitted.
“Happen to,” Marcus repeated with a snort and a chuckle.
“Here you go.” Fritz handed her a slip of paper and then one to Marcus…twice as long. “Now, off with you; it’s getting late already and there’s work to be done.”
“Thanks, Uncle.” Marcus gave a playful salute with his paper before heading out the door. Leaving Eira in his dust, yet again.
“What is it?” Fritz asked thoughtfully.
Eira looked down at her list. Five names were penned underneath the words, West Clinic. Her brother had at least ten—no, fifteen.
“He has a longer list than me again,” she murmured.
“I want to give you time to spend with Alyss.” The words sounded sincere. So why did they feel like a lie?
“I want to do more.”
“In time.” He said the two words she hated the most.
“When will it be my time?” Eira asked softly. “I want to—”
He didn’t give her an opportunity to finish. “Don’t rush. You’re young. There’s plenty of time to come into your own. It’s best to take things slowly, given how unique your magic is.” Eira pressed her lips into a hard line. When she didn’t say anything, he pressed, “All right?”
“All right,” she echoed, resigned, and slipped away before the conversation could continue. Instead of fighting, she pulled out her book once more, reading over pages she’d read so many times she could recite the words from memory.
Words of places Eira knew she’d never get the chance to go because she’d be stuck here her entire life, chaperoned and shepherded.
She wound once more down the tower, the whispers filling her ears. As a girl, she hadn’t understood the voices; she’d thought they were imaginary friends. Her parents had thought the same.
Then, her magic had begun to manifest in different ways and it became apparent that she was a sorcerer, like her brother
