DAYS PASSED IN A BLUR OF MUSCLE aches, frustration, and bruises, interspersed by glimmers of hope. I couldn’t say Kai was patient, but he was determined and unwavering. He showed that he was capable of serious dedication. I knew that every time he attacked or blocked or surprised me, he was doing so because he wanted me to succeed. He wanted me to be ready. If I failed, so would he.

He’d taught me several new moves, he’d tested the strength of my fire by having me melt or burn myriad objects, and he’d made me meditate for hours to hone my mental control, not allowing me to move until I was frantic with the need to stretch or fidget. I didn’t complain. I didn’t argue. I learned quickly because I had to. I knew I was improving by the admiration I occasionally saw in his eyes.

One unexpected benefit of the long hours of training with Kai: We developed an easy harmony, the kind of meshing of gifts that the masters seemed to prize so highly. I started anticipating his moves before he made them, and he often predicted mine. It meant that neither of us won easily, although I sometimes wondered if Kai was still going easy on me to build my confidence. We became well-matched sparring partners, pushing each other to new extremes of skill and creativity. It made for a few spectacular fights, drawing the students and masters into appreciative crowds on more than one occasion.

We hadn’t yet come close to the proficiency displayed by the senior masters, though. Many of the children even showed certain skills that already exceeded my own. Still, my gift was strong and growing stronger. Hope grew a little every day. I only wished hope equaled certainty. Even if I’d been the brightest pupil in Sudesia, there would be no guarantee I’d pass the trials. After all, even Kai with his staggering speed, agility, and power had somehow failed his first attempt.

Which meant I needed a backup plan.

Pernillius’s book could very well be in the library at the school, but I wouldn’t gain access to it unless I passed the trials. So I had to explore other paths to knowledge. I made a point of speaking to the masters during my breaks from training, hoping to find Sudesia’s version of Brother Thistle. Surely one of them knew of a scholar whose favorite pastime was burying himself under piles of decaying volumes and musty scrolls. My tentative questions all led me to the same answer: Master Dallr was a keen student of history. He was the one to speak to if I had any questions on esoteric knowledge.

The problem was that Master Dallr had the friendly demeanor of a locked vault and the approachability of a sea-worn cliff. I could bash myself against his jagged exterior for hours on end and all I would get was a headache. Small talk yielded nothing. When direct questions about his love of history didn’t work, I moved on to flattery. When that failed, I attempted charm, which was awkward for everyone. Kai winced at my eagerness. He began to tease me about hero-worshipping the legendary master, until I walloped him, flipping him onto his back in the school courtyard in a cloud of dust. He, of course, grinned.

The most I could glean from all my efforts was that the library did indeed house the most rare and valuable of the kingdom’s manuscripts. And without exception, only the masters were admitted entry.

When the week of training was over, I was gripped by a sense of inevitability, underpinned by panic. I could no longer tell myself that I’d find the book without committing myself to any vows. Only as a master would I be trusted with the knowledge I needed.

The night before the first trial, Kai and I were invited to dine with the queen.

We entered the great hall, a spacious room on the second floor of the south tower with embroidered silk curtains in warm colors, and bronze hanging lamps with lacy openings that blazed with light. The highly polished wood table reflected the lamps, throwing an extra glow onto the colorful porcelain plates and glass goblets. Side tables topped in mosaic tiles were covered with fragrant dishes emitting the scent of roasted meat and unfamiliar spices. The queen sat at one end of the main table, and Prince Eiko sat at her right. Though the setting was rich and stately, the atmosphere seemed intimate. It struck me as less formal than dinners in the Frost Court.

With help from a lady’s maid named Ada, I’d dressed in a white gown with gold lace covering the bodice—borrowed from the overstuffed wardrobe of some Fireblood lady of the court. Kai, with clothing that had clearly been tailored just for him, was a study in masculine perfection in a cream doublet over fawn trousers and black knee boots. Queen Nalani wore a wine-colored silk dress and a heavy gold filigree crown, while Prince Eiko wore loose robes in navy blue. Her lips curved in the hint of a smile, but her expression remained as watchful as ever. I dropped into a curtsy, my palms damp against my skirt.

“You may rise, Ruby,” she said in Tempesian, surprising me with both her fluency and her willingness to speak the language, presumably as a courtesy to me. “Good evening, Prince Kai.” She invited Kai to sit at her left side and for me to sit next to him.

As Kai pulled out my chair for me, Prince Eiko stood politely. I took a second to examine him more closely. His sable hair was streaked with hints of white, his narrow but handsome face just beginning to soften at the jawline. My attention was arrested by his eyes, a bright shade of leaf green. They seemed to be fixed on the left side of my face, which made my scar feel unaccountably warm. I rubbed it briefly to ease the sting.

As he bowed, he towered over the table. I realized he was perhaps the tallest person I’d ever met, his height accentuated by his lean, almost skinny, frame. I curtsied again and took the seat that Kai held out for me, glad to have the table to hide the fact that I couldn’t stop bouncing my knee. I didn’t know why I was so nervous. The queen had decided to let me take the trials. As long as I didn’t come at her with a fish fork, I didn’t think she would change her mind.

A footman poured the wine, which tasted fruity and smooth but strong. I would have to be careful only to sip it. The queen and Prince Eiko made small talk with Kai as dinner was served, plate after plate of artfully arranged dishes laden with fish, sweet potatoes, pork, rice, and a variety of fruit. I took an experimental bite of a yellow fruit, blinking in surprise at the strong taste: both tart and sugary.

The queen chose that moment to turn her attention to me. “How is your training progressing, Ruby?”

“She learns quickly,” said Kai before I could answer. “And she knows more than I expected. Perhaps almost as much as an initiate after two or three years of training.”

My brows rose at that. He’d seldom praised me, not in actual words.

But the queen continued to look at me expectantly, obviously wanting me to answer as well. As if my answer mattered, which was an about-face from the last time we’d met. Yet her demeanor was surprisingly warm now. Perhaps this was the face she wore for social occasions. Or perhaps she wanted me to let down my guard. Did I dare to hope that I had earned some respect for doing well in my training? She had said her Fireblood masters were vital. If I passed, I would be important to her. To the entire kingdom. The idea sent a little buzz of satisfaction through me. I had to remind myself that I wasn’t here to please the queen. I had my own agenda.

I patted the edges of my lips with a snowy napkin. “Kai is a good teacher.”

“But not a patient one, I reckon,” said Prince Eiko with a twinkle in his eye. “The young prince isn’t known for his calm nature.”

“A true Fireblood,” said the queen proudly. “Though I have told him before that his impulsiveness could well be his downfall. As it has been before.”

Kai inclined his head. “And yet, you’ve been gracious enough to allow me a second chance.”

“Do not fail me this time,” she said.

His face grew serious. “I won’t.”

A footman came forward and refilled our goblets, the crystal reflecting the glow from an enormous fireplace rimmed in black marble. It was strange to think that in northern Tempesia, the first snows would already be weighing down the pine boughs.

The queen must have noticed me staring at the fire.

“It’s symbolic,” she said, taking a sip of her wine. “A fire always burns in the formal rooms of my palace. Night and day, summer or winter, sun or storm. The flame eternal, like the spirits of the Fireblood people. Crush us, beat us, cut us down. We will not be extinguished. We live in the embers and rise again to consume our enemies.”

“That’s…” I searched for the right response. “Very apt.”

“Do you believe it to be true?” Her warm dark eyes fixed on me.

“I hope so, Your Majesty. Though Firebloods in Tempesia were driven away or killed, I like to think we’ll thrive there again one day.”

“As it happens, I share your dream.”

I froze with my goblet halfway to my mouth. “You want Firebloods to return to Tempesia?”

“My islands are many, but the total land is small compared to the kingdom north of the Vast Sea.”

Prince Eiko swirled the wine in his goblet. “Tempesia has inferior soil and a harsh climate.”

The queen inclined her head. “Except for the Aris Plains, which are fertile. When Firebloods began settling in Tempesia, it was still sparsely populated in the south. We brought our farming methods, tilling virgin soil and building homes. You know this, of course.” She raised a brow at me.

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“We kept the early frosts from crops, effectively lengthening the growing season. We shared our shipbuilding, our navigation methods. We helped shape that kingdom and, for a time, we worked and lived with them in relative peace. Now they’ve taken our lands in the south and Firebloods were disposed of so the Frostbloods could reap the benefits of our labor. I will fight for our right to those prosperous lands once again.”

It was unclear how she meant to fight for those rights, though. Sudesia, with its smaller population, couldn’t possibly hope to take the lands by force.

Her lips curved. “You wonder why I’m giving you this history lesson?”

I did wonder, but it would be rude to admit that, so I practiced my diplomatic skills. “I find history fascinating. My mother and grandmother taught me some, but there’s much I don’t know. For instance, I don’t know the history of the Frostbloods living in Sudesia. One of my”—I wondered what to call Brother Thistle, settling on the simplest description—“friends is a Frostblood who left here when he was a child.”

Her expression cooled. The idea of a Frostblood as my friend probably stretched her imagination to its limits.

“In any case, let me return to my history,” she continued. “Akur was crowned king, and some say he was driven mad by the murder of his queen by Fireblood rebels.” She leaned forward. “He set out to destroy my people in revenge. So let me ask you this. Why did he not sail across the Vast Sea to conquer my lands?”

“Because of the Strait of Acodens,” I replied.

“And the masters who guard it,” she clarified. “They are the true jewels of the land. Never forget that, should you pass the trials, you will serve as my best defense against attack. Our power lies in unity, not as individuals. My people in Tempesia had no such protection.”

“You still considered them your people?” I asked. “Firebloods who no longer live in Sudesia?”

“Firebloods have always been my people, whether they left Sudesia four days or four centuries ago.” She gripped the stem of her goblet, her dark brows winging down over her fierce gaze. “We lost many ships, many loyal soldiers, in our attempts to save your compatriots from Rasmus’s decree that they should be killed or brought to his arena. Though we were able to save some, most were lost. It is the greatest tragedy in the history of my people. And it happened during my reign. I will not rest until my people are in Tempesia again.”

Her knuckles turned white, her fingers tightening until the crystal stem snapped with an audible crunch. I gasped aloud before I could stifle it. The look in her eyes was murderous.

A footman came and carefully whisked the broken pieces away. A full goblet soon replaced the broken one.

No one batted an eye. Perhaps the queen broke crystal on a regular basis.

Again, I wondered if the Minax was possessing the queen. I checked my senses for any sign of it, but found none—aside from a tingle on the back of my neck, which could merely be nerves. My eyes were drawn to her wrist to check the color of the vein, but her long sleeves kept me from confirming whether it was a natural red or the inky black of possession. I sipped my wine and tried not to show how much her unbridled fury had shaken me. She was passionate, but with that came unpredictable behavior. It was a reminder that my current freedom was based on her whims.

“You alone were blessed by Sud to survive the massacre of our people, Ruby.” I met her eyes as she added, “Your mother, I heard, was not so fortunate.”

I clasped my hands tightly in my lap, my stomach lurching. “That’s right.”

“I’m sincerely sorry,” she said.

“Thank you.” I cast my eyes downward. My hands were trembling and cold. This conversation had gone on far too long and I just wanted it to end.

“But let us turn to more pleasant matters.” She sipped and asked smoothly, “Prince Kai, has your aunt found a suitable bride for you yet?”

Though a change in subject was welcome, it was startlingly abrupt. And it didn’t seem like this was a pleasant topic for Kai. He had the look of a cornered rabbit as he replied, “Aunt Aila understands that I do not wish to rush into marriage. I am barely eighteen summers, Your Majesty.”

It surprised me that we were almost the same age. All that restless swagger made Kai seem older, especially since he was so confident as captain of his ship. Then again, Arcus was king and he wasn’t much older. His serious demeanor always made him seem more than a few years my senior.

“Indeed, but the most powerful among us have a duty to produce heirs, as you know. It is good to start young. You have seen how it is with me. I cannot have children and the succession is now uncertain.”

Kai paused for several moments. “I will give the matter serious consideration, Your Majesty.”

“Perhaps since your mother is no longer alive and your aunt has not found the right woman, I may be of assistance in finding you a bride.”

His eyes widened. I stifled a laugh at his expression, relieved the conversation had lightened.

“You’re most generous,” he muttered, downing his drink.

The plates were cleared and dessert was served, tiny iced cakes and tarts filled with sweet berries and cream. In what I deemed a transparent attempt to ward off any further talk of nuptials, Kai carried the conversation, steering it into neutral territory. I pasted on an interested expression and tuned everyone out, mentally reviewing my plans.

“You have much on your mind,” Prince Eiko said, leaning forward across the table and speaking in a low voice so as not to interrupt Kai’s conversation with the queen.

I hoped the worry hadn’t shown on my face.

He added, “You must be nervous about your trials.”

“Yes, a little,” I admitted, glad that I had a reasonable excuse for anxiety. “I’m sorry if I was inattentive.”

He waved away the apology. “It’s only natural. Anyone would be preoccupied on such a night. And it’s difficult not knowing what to expect, isn’t it?”

He glanced at the queen, who was still engaged in conversation with Kai, and leaned in further. “I can tell you a few things without breaking any oaths. If you like.”

“Please,” I said, wondering why he would want to help me. What did he have to gain?

He pressed his fingers together, reminding me a bit of Brother Thistle when he was about to give a lecture. “Each trial tests a different ability, so the first, second, and third trial are all quite different from each other. They’re meant to push you to your limits so that only the strongest of Firebloods will have a chance of passing. However, strength of the gift does not guarantee success. There are other factors that come to bear on your success or failure.”

“What kind of factors?” I asked.

“Some of them are physical, like endurance, agility, or skill. Some things are mental, such as adaptability and perseverance. Your will, your decisions, can play a large role in the trials.”

Suddenly, I noticed the table had fallen silent. I glanced up to see the queen watching Prince Eiko.

“You come very close to revealing too much, my dear,” she said in silken tones. “She will find out more tomorrow, and that is soon enough, I think.”

Prince Eiko sat back, looking chagrined. “Of course.”

“Best of luck tomorrow, Ruby,” Queen Nalani said as she rose to her feet. Prince Eiko, Kai, and I stood as well.

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” I replied with a curtsy, when a question occurred to me. “Your Majesty, when you were telling me your history, you never mentioned what happened to the Frostbloods living in Sudesia. Perhaps next time, you can tell me more.”

She smiled, but it was cold, as if it were ice and not fire that ran through her veins. “Why, child, I assumed you knew. When it was clear that my people in Tempesia were lost to me, I rounded up all the Frostbloods living in my kingdom. Some of them became indentured servants, like my loyal Renir.” She gestured to one of the footmen standing against the wall and I blinked hard. How had I missed that? His eyes were a pale grayish blue, subtle but definitely the mark of a Frostblood.

“And the ones who refused to go into service?” I asked curiously, forcing myself not to stare.

She captured my gaze, her irises as cold and opaque as prison walls.

“I ordered my Fireblood masters to execute them all.”