THE NEXT MORNING, I JOLTED AWAKE with a racing heart. The nightmare faded so quickly that I could only grasp pieces of it. I’d been wandering dark hallways, crying out Arcus’s name, and listening to him answer, each echoing repetition of my name coming from farther and farther away. I knew if I didn’t reach him in time, he’d be lost to me forever. And the arms that reached out from the walls would drag me down into the deep, never to surface again.

I poured a glass of water from the pitcher on my nightstand and drank in agitated gulps, waiting for my heart to quiet. The nightmare and my third trial were jumbled together in my thoughts, as if the first was a bad omen for the second. I reminded myself I wasn’t superstitious and dressed in my tunic and leggings, waiting for Kai to come to my door like usual.

When he didn’t appear, I went to his room and found it empty. I called his name, as if he might materialize out of the ether, but there was nothing but lingering traces of soap and sandalwood. I stared at the meticulously tidy room, feeling lost. Kai had been with me on the way to each trial. Had the masters separated us on purpose?

I tried to shake off worry as I traveled alone to the school, my midsection tying itself in knots. I concentrated on my breathing, swallowing past a lump of fear in my throat. After what Kai had told me about his third trial, I wondered if taking it myself was worth it. He seemed to regard his decision not to kill his friend as a failure, but I viewed it as a show of character. He’d refused to become a murderer just to pass the trials. In his place, I would have done the same. It was only afterward that the consequences—the loss of his family’s land and fortune—had made him doubt his choice. How would he fare this time?

If I failed the third trial, I’d have to leave Sudesia empty-handed. Even without the book, the knowledge of the masters could have helped me defeat the Minax; otherwise it would remain free. I had to weigh the cost of preserving my principles—following the path my mother and grandmother would have wanted me to take—against saving a kingdom.

I hoped the queen wouldn’t ask me to kill. I’d had to make that choice in the arena, and I didn’t want to make it again.

Master Dallr once again took me up the hill to the temple of Sud, where I said a brief prayer. Then I followed a somber procession of masters trudging on foot over the barren lava fields in the general direction of Sud, the belching volcanic monster named after the goddess of the south wind. I kept looking back as I walked, hoping to see Kai loping behind us to catch up. He didn’t appear.

We came to the ruin of walls, what might have once been a dwelling. Inside, a stairway led to underground tunnels. They sent me in alone.

Torches showed me the way, and as Kai had described, it felt like a long time before I arrived at the end: a wide, echoing chamber carved from black stone, a river of lava dividing the two sides like a bloody gash. My pulse played an irregular beat in my neck. A bead of sweat trickled from my hairline down my cheek.

The river was only a few feet across. With a running start, I could probably jump the distance. But I doubted that was the point.

Only the glow of lava lit the cavernous space. Then suddenly, there came a blinding flash of light. On the opposite bank of the river, two masters made fire blaze in their cupped hands, brightening their orange robes and giving them the appearance of living torches. Light and shadow trembled over their solemn faces.

In the center, between the masters, a figure materialized from the dark, her gold filigree crown shining with reflected firelight like an underground sun. She wore an orange-and-red gown that flared into a train, the edges cleverly sewn to mimic flames. Jewel-laden gold chains hung from her neck and wrists, and each of her fingers winked with rings. She moved gracefully, appearing almost to float over the coarse floor, a crimson fog filled with a swarm of glittering fireflies. She halted at the edge of the river.

“You stand at a crossroads,” Queen Nalani said in a melodic, ringing voice. “Behind you, your lonely past. Born isolated and cut off from your people, you were forced to rely on your own strength, your own counsel, your own solitary power—your life as easily extinguished as a single candle. Your very survival is a triumph.”

I swallowed. I’d expected her to say something by rote, but it sounded as if she’d composed the speech especially for me. Or perhaps she hadn’t, and I just felt she had. Either way, I felt each word deeply, as if she had pulled thoughts and impressions from my very soul and spoken them aloud.

“Ahead of you, your future.” She gestured to the masters. “The chance to join your strength with others, to live among those who would die for you, to be embraced by a tradition that is much greater than yourself, to join your fire with a conflagration, consuming your enemies even as your old self is consumed, laying down your petty striving and meager aspirations in favor of a larger cause.”

She paused. Anticipation and dread wound my nerves tight. I became aware of my breath, which was coming too fast, and felt the pain of my nails biting into the tender flesh of my palms.

“Should you pass,” she said, “you will become a Fireblood master. Once you cross that threshold, there is no returning to your previous existence. You will be altered, transformed—your old self discarded in favor of a stronger self. You will be born anew.”

She gestured, and the masters extinguished their flames. The room was again lit only by the glow of lava.

“You have accomplished much,” the queen continued, “but a vital step must be taken to reach the final prize. There is no improvement but through sacrifice, no gain but through loss. To form a new self, you must discard what is worn and broken. You must kill those parts of yourself that diminish you. And in so doing, you will rise higher than you imagined possible, become a vital facet of a priceless gem. You will join a legacy, one of the kingdom’s most revered protectors, one of my most cherished servants.” The firelight flickered. The queen’s expression darkened. “But first, you must earn my trust.”

She made a small gesture and the masters stepped back into the shadows in perfect accord, as if she held strings that controlled them.

“The test is simple: Obey me and pass. Deny me and fail. The choice is yours.”

She moved to the side. The masters relit the fire in their hands and moved forward, a figure between them.

My heart sank. I had hoped for a different test of obedience that wouldn’t involve anyone’s death, but this was exactly as Kai had described. Some unfortunate prisoner was being hauled before me and the queen would order me to execute him. Could I do it? I’d killed before to save myself, but this was entirely different. This prisoner would be helpless, unable to fight back. Even if I was doing it to try to save Tempesia from the Minax, did that goal justify killing an innocent person? Was it worth becoming a murderer?

The glow from the masters’ hands caught the prisoner’s hair, which was like fire on its own: tawny chestnut and auburn with streaks of bright orange. I stared in shock and disbelief. He stared back at me, stony-faced and silent.

“Kai,” I breathed. I immediately faced the queen and said very clearly, “No.”

To my surprise, she showed no sign of anger at my defiance. Instead, her eyes fairly sparkled with enjoyment. “You haven’t even received my order, child.”

It didn’t matter what the incentive was—what I could gain by passing her test, how hard it would be to find a way to defeat the Minax without the masters’ help, or what she would do to me if I failed. I would not kill Kai. My heart hurt even thinking about it. I would figure out another way to destroy the Minax. I would search the rest of the school for the book; I would tell Prince Eiko my secrets and beg for his help.

I shook my head. “I won’t touch him.” As far as I was concerned, the trial was over. I wanted to turn my back and walk out. But I knew she wouldn’t make it that easy.

She folded her arms, her rings making pinpoints of reflected light dance over the dark walls. “There are consequences to disobeying me, Ruby. I cannot condone dissension. Surely even a stranger to our customs understands this.”

I closed my eyes, thinking of what a fool I’d been. I’d come to Sudesia too trustingly, just as Arcus had warned, sure that the Fireblood queen would be better than King Rasmus. Instead, I’d found a ruler whose expectations of unquestioning obedience were only too familiar.

“Even still,” I said firmly. “I won’t hurt him.”

She laughed, the sound echoing off the walls. My eyes snapped to Kai. He still looked serious, almost grim. He didn’t, however, look scared.

“Then it’s a good thing I don’t wish you to harm him, isn’t it?” She reached out and beckoned to Kai, who stepped forward. “On the contrary, what I wish for is an alliance that will benefit both of you. And me as well, of course. A union that will benefit the entire kingdom, and guarantee the uncontested succession of my throne. No need to look so worried, child.” Her voice gentled—gentled! I’d never seen her as being capable of softness—and her expression was almost fond. “I have a feeling you won’t mind what I’m asking of you.”

A crease formed between my brows. “Your Majesty, I admit I’m confused. What do you wish me to do?”

“Prince Kai has already agreed,” she said, “and you need to agree as well. How fortunate that to pass your trial, no blood need be spilled. Instead, we have cause for joy.”

My teeth snapped together at the way she was drawing this out. Her barely suppressed delight was almost as frightening as her anger.

She took a step back and gestured to Kai, then me. “Prince Kai, I will not rob you of this moment. You may ask her yourself.”

Kai was silent for a moment. Then he dropped down on one knee. A strange enough sight, but with a few feet of lava between us, it was bizarre.

If the queen thought I was confused before—

“Ruby,” Kai said in a strained voice that was a far cry from his usual lackadaisical tones, “I know I am far from worthy of you, but would you do me the great honor of consenting to be my wife?”

If the sky had rained fire, I would have been less shocked.

I turned to stone. At least, that’s what it felt like. I didn’t move, didn’t breathe, didn’t even blink for what felt like a full minute. Then Kai lifted a brow and the air rushed back into my lungs.

“You’re not serious” was all I could manage.

He produced a winning, though forced, smile. “I assure you, the queen—that is, I—am quite serious. I’m asking for your hand in marriage.”

“To…you,” I said with heavy emphasis.

“Yes, that is why I am the one asking.” Despite his blinding display of teeth, he spoke as if his jaw was too rigid to form words properly.

“To me.” I said it carefully, as if testing out new words in a foreign language.

“Which is why it is your hand I’m asking for.” Whatever patience he’d had seemed to be seeping away. Also, I noticed a rather unmistakable urgency in his expression. He shifted his eyes meaningfully toward the queen and raised a brow. I glanced at Queen Nalani and saw that her smile had faded.

“Surely it is not a complete surprise,” she said coolly. “I understand the two of you have grown quite close during your time together.”

“I would hardly say…” I began, then noticed the subtle movement of Kai’s jaw, as if he were grinding his teeth into paste. Suddenly, I remembered that this test was about complete obedience. If so, I was failing.

She was giving me a chance to pass the dreaded final trial—without bloodshed, without sacrificing the well-being of anyone I knew. Or anyone at all, for that matter. Kai had already agreed, which meant he had weighed options and decided this was safer than facing whatever would happen if he didn’t comply. I didn’t think for a moment this was his idea. His level of sincerity was that of a child who apologizes only because his mother is twisting his ear.

The queen’s chin had risen, her eyes sharply assessing. Kai gave a surreptitious nod, his piercing gaze practically begging me to agree. I knew him well enough by now to trust him. We had no other choice. At least, not now. Not yet.

“I accept,” I breathed, and then a rush of dizziness hit me and I had to widen my stance to stay upright. Even though I knew this was just a pretense, a temporary concession until we could find a way out, saying the words made it seem like a promise, permanent and irrevocable. I had the sensation of being trapped, of a prison cell closing with a resounding clang.

When I’d let myself daydream—and on rare occasions, I had—it had been Arcus’s face I’d seen looking back at me as I recited my wedding vows. It had been his voice I’d heard whispering to me on our wedding night.

Marriage. The word alone made me dizzy.

Not that I would marry Kai. Not that I would ever be able to marry Arcus, either. Not that I knew for sure that I wanted to tie myself to anyone that way. I’d always thought I had years to figure that out. I resented being forced even to pretend that I was ready to bind myself to another for life.

The queen’s smile returned and she clapped her hands together. “What a joyous day! Prince Eiko, you are brilliant.”

I hadn’t noticed the tall figure standing several feet behind her in the shadows. At her words, he stepped forward and took her extended hand in his own. In the flickering light, the planes and angles of his face looked mercilessly sharp. “You give me too much credit, my love.” He bent and kissed her hand.

“You may thank Prince Eiko for the ease of your third trial,” she said, giving him a fond look, “as well as his insistence that you had rightfully passed your second, and that it would be wrong to allow the masters to fail you. He was very persuasive, devising a solution that suits all parties.”

I watched Prince Eiko’s face, scouring it for clues, wondering again just what he was doing. He’d said he wanted to help me, and I hadn’t had to make any life-and-death decisions today. He had spared me that. Perhaps, when looked at in that light, he was on my side. What his reasons might be, I couldn’t imagine.

“But, Your Majesty,” I said, unable to help myself, “it’s hardly a test of obedience if we both want to agree.” Of course, that was a lie, but I wanted to know why the queen had chosen this as our final test. She wouldn’t have let Prince Eiko talk her into it if there was nothing in it for her.

“You could have refused,” she said with a slight hooding of her eyes. “Your agreement shows me that you have truly left your old life in Tempesia behind. This is what I want, Ruby, for you to commit to your new life here. And you will have plenty of opportunities to pay tribute to me by producing children as heirs to my throne and our family name.”

Kai choked and then turned that sound into a cough. I realized my mouth had dropped open. I closed it.

“Your Majesty,” I began carefully, knowing that I might risk both Kai as well as myself if I angered the queen, “I thank you for this… astounding opportunity. But how could I, a commoner from Tempesia, provide your heirs? Kai is, after all, not related to you.”

She put a hand to her chest. “How remiss of me. Ruby, my sweet girl, you still haven’t a clue who you are, have you?”

I blinked at the sobriquet of sweet girl and said, “I believe I know quite well who I am.” But the assertion came out hesitant. I’d had too many surprises to be sure of anything.

“You are my niece,” she said, blinding me with her smile. “My own flesh and blood. Your mother was my dear younger sister.”