Panic replenished my heat, like adding fresh coal to a forge. I poured my fire into the door and burned a few inches away, the edges blackening under my fire. When the depth of the hole reached about two feet, a tiny point of light appeared. I shoved my finger through it and felt a rush of elation.
The heat from the approaching lava suddenly singed the backs of my calves. Acting on instinct, I turned and threw my hands out, the way I would to control flames.
The lava stopped. Just stopped, as if an invisible barrier held it back. But how?
“Sage?” I whispered.
I waited for a vision of the golden-eyed woman who sometimes appeared to me. But I couldn’t see her, nor hear her voice. Still, she must have intervened. Relief and gratitude brought another surge of strength.
I screamed as I poured the last bit of my heat into the door. The edges of the opening burst into flame, the space widening.
I pulled my legs up, away from the motionless lava, and wiggled feetfirst into the breach. As I hoisted myself through, my hips stuck in the narrow gap. I swore fiercely and braced my elbows on the sides, then a final heave ripped gashes into my tunic and leggings. My feet hit the ground. I looked back through the opening to see the lava moving again.
Two tunnels led downward to the left and right, but ahead, the passage rose. I ran up the incline, the torches blurring at the edges of my vision.
A minute later, I burst through into the sunlight. I collapsed onto the ground and saw that I was on the far side of the hill overlooking the school, the temple to Sud casting shadows in the morning sun.
I panted, lying on my back while clouds and seagulls cut white shapes into the blue. My head spun with relief—and just a touch of pride.
I’d passed the first Fireblood trial. I was one step closer to learning how to destroy the Minax.
Kai came to my room again that night. This time, he brought sweets: tiny iced cakes in a rainbow of colors. “To celebrate the passing of your first trial.”
I carefully lifted a pink confection with a tiny chocolate leaf on top. I was still giddy that I’d passed. Everything seemed possible; suddenly, even the idea of mastering my gift and beating the Minax was within reach. The only thing tempering my euphoria was the knowledge that Sage must have intervened to help me. After all, who else could have saved me from death by lava at the last second? And if she intervened, I must have been in real trouble. She’d never helped me so directly before.
But I shoved the thought away. I wanted to bask in the elation of my win.
“Mmm, I love sweets,” I said around a glorious mouthful of cake.
“I know,” Kai said drily. “You were covered in powdered sugar the night we met.” He smiled almost wistfully, as if that had happened years ago instead of weeks. “I had you pegged as a traitor to our people. Or at the very least, an opportunist who cared for nothing but your own ambition. Though the queen had sent me to recruit you, I didn’t have much hope that you’d remain loyal.”
I swallowed my bite. “I’m assuming you’ve changed your mind. Otherwise, it would be rude to mention that.”
“I might have cause to reexamine my thinking.” He seized a tiny cake and popped it into his mouth.
I dusted sugar from my fingertips, then selected another: white with blue piping. After eating a few more, I put a hand to my stomach. “I shouldn’t have eaten so many. Or maybe I’m just getting nervous about the next trial.”
He put the tray on a side table. “Climb in bed and I’ll tuck you in.”
I crossed my arms. “Again, I’m not a child.”
“Well, you look like one at the moment. Could they have fit any more ruffles on this nightgown?”
I looked down. My nightgown was, indeed, covered in ruffles, one of which Kai flicked with an extended index finger. He transferred the touch to my chin and smiled. My cheeks heated. I turned away and crawled into bed. It seemed safer than standing in the candlelight in a semisheer nightgown. I didn’t want him to leave yet. It was nice to have company to take the edge off my anxiety about the second trial.
“Tell me a story,” I said with sudden inspiration. “Like you did on the ship.”
He laughed. “I thought you didn’t want to be treated like a child. You sound just like Aver.” He came and sat on the edge of the bed. “What do you want to hear, then?”
“Continue the one you were telling. About the birth of the wind gods. Eurus had just been banished.”
“Ah.” He cleared his throat. “Well, Neb and Tempus barely had time to grieve for their son’s betrayal when Neb found that she was expecting again. She gave birth to twins, Sud and Fors, who were equally matched in every way. As they grew, they loved to hunt. Cirrus would follow her younger siblings to make sure they weren’t injured by the animals that had spread across the world. But she also felt sorry for the animals and often saved them, mending their cuts and pouring life back into their broken bodies.”
“A convenient ability,” I observed, covering another yawn.
“Indeed, and not just for the animals. Sometimes she healed her younger siblings from cuts and bruises and broken limbs. Sud and Fors were fearless and curious, getting into scrapes and risking themselves for the sheer joy of facing danger… much like someone in this room.”
“You must be talking about yourself. I’m the soul of caution.”
He chuckled. “As they explored the world, they found the broken dolls Eurus had discarded as a child. Together they fixed them and breathed life into them. They grew fascinated by these creatures, whom they called men and women. For a while, the twins worked in harmony to help people in small ways, teaching them how to hunt and cook the meat with fire.”
“Mmm,” I said. My eyes had fallen closed.
Kai stroked my hair—it felt so nice I didn’t bat his hand away—and continued. “But Fors and Sud grew bored of watching people do the same things day after day, and decided to explore. They traveled east and found a young man who looked like them. He said he was their brother, Eurus, and that he was tired of living all alone.”
I shivered and pulled the quilt higher over my shoulder.
“They brought Eurus back to their parents’ dwelling, which was built high in the clouds so that Neb could be close to her first daughter, the Sun.
“‘We have found our brother,’ they said, ‘and we want you to let him come home.’ At first, Tempus refused, but the twins said, ‘Do as we ask, or we will leave and never return.’
“So Neb and Tempus had no choice but to embrace their oldest son. In gratitude, Eurus wove palm fronds into fans and gave them to the twins. Fors used his fan to create the north wind and Sud created the south wind. And Cirrus joined them in a game that tumbled winds across the world and all four siblings laughed in great joy.”
I smiled serenely, imagining myself as a wind god floating on the currents I’d made with my fan.
“But their games had caused havoc over the earth, creating typhoons and hurricanes and tornadoes. Sun looked down upon the people and saw that her siblings had destroyed simple homes and crops they had started to grow, and she shone a light on the destruction. And Cirrus saw what her sister, Sun, was showing her, and she told her other siblings to stop their game.”
“Did they stop?” I asked drowsily. Grandmother had told me this story, but it was so long ago, I didn’t recall the details.
“They did. All but Eurus. ‘Why, those people are nothing but the dolls I broke as a child,’ he said, laughing at their pathetic fragility. And he made wind after rushing wind and laughed as it swept people and animals into clouds of dust, wiping the land clean.
“‘You are cruel,’ said Cirrus, shaking with rage, ‘and you have no regard for life.’
“‘You are foolish and weak,’ said Eurus, ‘and you care too much for small, broken things.’
“‘I am stronger than you,’ she said.
“Eurus said, ‘Then let us see who will win a contest of strength.’”
Kai’s warm hand cupped my shoulder. “Ruby?”
I tried to reply, but I was floating in the clouds. With one more stroke over my hair, his hand left me and I felt the bed move as he stood.
“Good night,” he whispered.