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make the cut.

Eira skimmed the crowd made up of her peers from the Tower, courtiers, and strangers alike. Men and women were packed into the ramparts that surrounded the training ground. But, even among the masses, fate played a cruel trick on her.

Somehow, out of everyone, she found her parents.

The sun picked up the honeyed tones of her mother’s hair, cut short around her ears. Her father had a closely cropped beard, a darker shade that was almost brown—the only indication of what his hair color had once been, as he kept his head completely shaved. Her mother gave an eager wave and her father clapped his hands.

For a moment, Eira pretended they were here to cheer her on. They were here supporting her. They weren’t here as overseers to make sure she threw her run at their request. The thought was like a blow to her stomach, stealing the wind from her; Eira brought her eyes back to Fritz as he began to speak.

“Eira Landan,” Fritz projected over the field. “Today you will partake in your next trial as a candidate for competitor in the Tournament of Five Kingdoms. Your goal is to cross the course in the fastest time possible. To progress, you must do so while always stepping on, grabbing, or using elements of the course that are marked in white.”

Underneath her feet, a thick, chalky paint had been slathered over the platform. That paint topped various pillars, grips, and walkways.

“Should you, at any point, no longer be in contact with the white parts of the course, you will be disqualified.”

Her heart sank. She’d been planning on crossing the moat near the end with ice. Eira glanced toward the sixth obstacle out of seven and then quickly brought her eyes to Fritz. She’d worry about that when she had to. There were five obstacles she had to tackle first.

“You may use any magic you want, so long as you observe the aforementioned rules and wear your pin the entire time. If, at any point, you wish to stop, you may do so either by stepping off the course or by removing your pin. At that time, your run will be considered forfeit. Do you have any questions?”

Eira shook her head and then, realizing he may not be able to see her clearly from the distance, shouted, “I do not.”

“Do you still wish to partake in this trial as a candidate?”

Her eyes darted to her parents. Her mother slowly shook her head. Her father stared on with a severe expression. Even Fritz, from what Eira could tell at her distance, seemed to be holding his breath.

They all wanted her to say no. They wanted her to back down like a coward—to do whatever they told her without question. She couldn’t back down now… If she did, she’d accomplish nothing. They’d see her as retreating at the last second and as incapable of standing up to them. She’d go on being someone to manage and oversee.

“I do!” Eira shouted, her voice echoing in the vacuum of the hush that the eager spectators had created.

“Then, on the emperor’s mark.” Fritz frowned but stepped to the side as the emperor stepped forward.

Aldrik cradled something in his hand connected by a chain to his coat—a pocket watch, likely. She sank into her legs, staring down the obstacles before her. Eira knew she wasn’t the strongest, or the fastest. She had never spent copious time on the training grounds, like other apprentices would. A few days of jogging with Alyss when the trials were announced wasn’t going to make up for years of books over push-ups.

But she was light on her feet. She was clever. And she’d prepared for this in a way no one else had. A way that was far more valuable than running laps around the palace. She’d had Ferro. Plus, she only had to beat one person’s time. There was no way she was going to lose. Eira repeated these things over and over, convincing herself of them. She’d show them all here and now just what she was capable of.

“Begin!” the emperor boomed. Eira launched forward and the crowd erupted with cheers. Were they cheering for her? Or against her? Eira couldn’t tell and she allowed her racing heart to drown them out.

The first obstacle was a wall that was just slightly taller than her. White was painted up the side and over the top. A simple test of strength. She could imagine her brother getting a running start and vaulting over the wall with ease. But the benefit of being last was knowing that four people hadn’t even finished the course. She just had to beat that one person, and their time was abysmal. She could move slowly and deliberately.

Eira placed her foot on the smooth paint of the wall. Ice grew underneath the toe of her shoe, extending back to her heel, and creating a ledge for her to support herself on. She shifted her weight and brought her other foot higher. The entire time, she kept her grip on the top of the wall.

At all times she had to keep her hands or feet on the white.

After three steps, she was high enough to double over the wall and hoist herself over. Eira fell hard on the other side and stood with a groan. Immediately as she found her feet, a burst of flame had her pressing her back against the wall.

Before her was the deep ditch she’d seen during her day at court. Columns of rock rose up from the deep crevice; their tops were white, making stepping stones across. However today the moat was not empty. Curling flames swirled around the columns like an angry tide. A river of fire separated her and the first switchback; the only way across was jumping between the columns.

Eira pushed off the wall, creeping toward the edge of the platform she was on. Sure enough, the moment she neared the first gap, a column of fire shot

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