Emilia hadn’t imagined the world could contain this much blue. She’d woken an hour before, tied tight to Chara’s saddle in traditional riding fashion. A well-fed and rested dragon could fly for a full day without stopping, and Chara had not responded to any of Emilia’s tugs or pressed legs. The dragon had soared onward, listening to the invisible call. When Emilia fell asleep last night, they’d been somewhere over the eastern mainland of the empire. Now, with sun sparkling over the expanse of the sea, she could only stare in awe.
She’d grown up with the ocean a permanent background roar, but those waters had been dark and storming gray. Not like this, the shade of a summer sky, and so warm.
She’d been correct; that gave her a little flush of pleasure. The Trial’s first location was the Crotian Sea. Emilia had studied the Crotian territory and knew that it was a land of eternal summer, of wild islands, of ceaseless blue.
“We almost there, girl?” Emilia’s bladder felt near to bursting. In response, Chara glided down on the wind’s current. Ahead, Emilia caught hazy sight of an island. “At last,” she moaned.
Chara flared her wings, slowing and dropping. Eventually, they landed on a wide, cleared patch of earth. Emilia’s knees buckled as she slid to the ground, the insides of her thighs throbbing with pain. She’d never ridden that long before.
Shaking, she placed her palms on the ground and closed her eyes. She felt the thread of connection between her body and Chara, her hands and the earth beneath and the ocean behind.
As her heart beat faster, the warmth of magic began to fill her. Nothing had changed. Once again, Emilia was a blasted vessel for it. The flight here had shocked her so deeply that the chaos had held itself at bay, but it was resurging with a vengeance now. The magic—the prickling, boiling pain of it—demanded its liberty. She spun around and on her hands and knees looked down into the lapping waves. She focused upon a cluster of stones slick with algae, their tops shining when the water receded for one instant before sloshing back over again. Emilia saw the rippling dark of her shadow outlined by the sun’s glare.
Her head throbbed; the blood pulsated at her temples. Biting her lip, Emilia focused on those rocks and freed her chaos.
The stones exploded, shards shooting every direction in the water. Enormous bubbles of air rose to the surface. The sea muffled the eruption, and instantly the tightness around Emilia’s head eased up. The dull roar in her ears vanished. She was safe.
For now. Emilia had long compared these “outbursts” to a violent stomach illness. You could sense it coming, but you couldn’t stop it. All she could do was try to find the best place to be sick. After, she felt empty. Breathing heavily, Emilia turned and stared at a pair of sandaled feet. The person before her wore a homespun brown tunic.
Oh no. No, no, did they see? Trying to remain calm, Emilia glanced upward. The person before her did not appear startled or frightened. Breathing out in relief, Emilia rose, dusting off her knees. The girl—yes, definitely a girl, not much older than she—gazed at Emilia with great calm.
“You’re invited to wait,” the girl said, gesturing toward a path that led up a small incline. “Their Graces will be with you in time.”
“Oh.” Of course, Their Graces, the high priests of the temple at Delphos. The administrators of order’s magical power, the high priests spoke for the Great Dragon here on earth. They always administered the Emperor’s Trial. Until a new leader was crowned, they were effectively the sole authority in Etrusia.
And Emilia would have to evade their notice. Nausea rocked her at the thought.
“Thank you.” Emilia attempted a smile. Try not to show too much teeth, her mother had once warned her. Emilia’s smile made people uncomfortable.
Chara snuffled behind her. Emilia went to remove her saddle—the poor dragon would have sores if she wasn’t rubbed down soon. The hooded girl—the brown robe marked her as an acolyte of the temple, Emilia understood now—made a noise in her throat and took Chara’s reins. The dragon let her.
“You’re invited to wait,” the girl repeated.
Emilia grabbed her satchel and walked. She threw glances at Chara over her shoulder, but the dragon appeared more than fine, puffing gladly as the girl loosened the saddle.
When Emilia got to the top of the path, she looked out at the temple beyond. Her eyes widened. She had anticipated beauty, but not…not like this.
Rows of marble columns led down a long, flowering courtyard and up to the building. Several steps ascended to the temple’s single level, made of stone so white it was a glare in the sunshine. The doors gleamed brass, the triangular roof glimmered in accents of gold. A carved frieze displayed images of warriors on dragonback surging against a horde of snarling enemies. Near the start of the columns, mossy stone dragons had been set to guard the area. A rectangular pool lay in the center of the space, reflecting the azure blue of the sky. A fountain burbled at the far end, adjacent to the bronze statue of a man, his feet skating the pool’s surface. The man raised an arm in triumph, while a dragon’s wings extended from his back on either side. Emilia knew her history: this had been sculpted to commemorate Antoninus, the first emperor, who’d ridden the Great Dragon into battle against the Chaos House.
She shut her eyes; Chaos House. Her stomach churned to think of it.
This wasn’t even the Great Temple at Delphos. This was another holy place, tucked away somewhere in the blue of the Crotian Sea. Emilia had never seen it on any map. Perhaps it had been built solely to gather those the Great Dragon selected. Emilia shivered with the realization that this Trial held mysteries that even she, with all her books and studies, had never discovered.
Within the courtyard, flowering shrubs and fruit trees bloomed in opulence. The pears and pomegranates practically quivered, ripe and ready to fall. Emilia’s mouth watered. She wanted to pluck a pear and take a juicy bite—
Emilia felt the chaos surge again, her throat tightening with it. She was going to explode those pears, maybe the whole damn tree. Grunting, she sat down hard on the ground, digging her thumbs into her eyes. Magic boiled in her skull. Multicolored light splashed across her closed lids. The power bubbled in her blood, looking to burst.
Stop. I just released you. Stop, Emilia begged. She clenched her jaw and heaved a sigh as the chaos fizzled. The hum died down in her brain, and the knot of tension between her shoulders loosened. She’d stopped it in time. But why? She’d just given the magic its own way five minutes before; why should it suddenly appear again when she was thinking about pears? She had never experienced two bursts so close together. “Shit,” Emilia whispered. Maybe if she was normal she could win this Trial with her books and her strategies, but this thing, this monster inside of her…If it showed itself at one wrong moment…
They’re going to kill me.
Worse, they’d guess that Emilia’s family had hidden her away to conceal her dark ability. Exploding rocks might be seen as relatively harmless, but Emilia had done worse. Far worse.
She’d exploded boys, as well. A boy, singular.
They’re going to blame Mother and Father. She chewed her lip. Alex.
Her brother would lose his family lands and titles, if not his head. Emilia’s temples throbbed dully. Why had she been called? Why?
They should have killed you when they first found out, she thought.
“Hello?” someone called to her right. Emilia shot to her feet and discovered the tall figure of a young man standing in a column’s shadow. He stepped into the sunlight, which played on his shag of black hair. “Good. Someone else is finally here.”
She didn’t recognize the deep voice or the haphazardly cut hair. But those eyes were unmistakable: that liquid-copper color could only belong to one family. One person.
For the first time in five years, Emilia experienced the thrill of a pleasant surprise.
“Lucian?” she whispered, drawing nearer.
The Lucian she’d last seen five years ago had been half a head shorter than she, with round cheeks. He’d grown tall since then, and lean with muscle. Dark stubble boasted of his need for a razor. Emilia felt warm at the unexpected, entirely admirable sight of him. Different, yes, he was different, but also familiar. He was safe. At that moment, Emilia couldn’t even wonder what he was doing here or where Dido was or anything sensible. What mattered was that he was here, someone who knew her from before her headaches began and her smile disappeared. Relieved, she trotted over to him…and stopped.
He looked at her like she was an alien creature. Horror lit his eyes as he raked his gaze over her body.
“Emilia?” he whispered. “What happened to you?”