“Who actually took the child?”
The coward before me said nothing.
“Come on now, Alistair,” I crooned. “Give me what I want, and we can make this quick.”
“What do you care, Vistarii? What do any of you even care?! The brat isn’t even Pyrhhan, and he’s sure as shit not from Sophrosyne. Just some over-privileged snotrag from Vindyrst,” Alistair snapped.
Be that as it may, the Elder Guard had a commitment to the safety and well-being of anyone behind our walls. It didn’t matter where they came from—Sophrosyne was a melting pot, filled to the brim with students and visitors from across the realm. I raised a brow as the asshole continued to try to appeal to my sense of reason.
“I mean, do you evenrealizewhat atrocities that little shit’s father has committed against his people in the mountains? Of course not. All the while, the courts and Houses are doing fuck all about it with their thumbs up their arses, playin’ politics!”
It was then that I realized that even though my men had confirmed Alistair Corvus’ status as a Pyrhhan citizen, there was the slightest hint of Vindyrst in his accent.
So this was personal. That was going to be a problem. It was difficult to alter the minds of men who thought their actions were justified, no matter how heinous their ideas of retribution were. Difficult, but not impossible. Glancing down at the blade in my hand, I liked my chances.
“So you thought that the child needed to pay for the sins of his father?” I challenged through grit teeth. I knew where this conversation was going, and had already lost my patience for it.
“The way I see it, we’re just culling the problem before it becomes another one.”
Yeah. There it was.
“Wrong answer, my friend. Wrong fucking answer. Because the way I see it, the ‘problem’ in question? The one you’re trying to ‘cull’? That’s just a child. He’s only eleven. An eleven year oldkid.” I spat. “And for that?”
I shoved the dagger into his thigh and pressed one hand over his mouth to mute the agonized screams. One of Fen’s clerics would be on their way soon enough.
“For that, Corvus… Iwillbreak you.”
Chapter Three
Arken
The walls that encircled Sophrosyne were made of gleaming, polished limestone that sparkled in the sun. Somehow, they displayed no signs of aging or erosion, even though I knew they had stood there for centuries.
As our guides herded us through the Western Gates, my mouth parted in gentle surprise when a ripple of tangible power brushed against my skin like a low hum.Wards.
I don’t know why I was surprised by the sensation. Of course the City of the Gods would be warded. Even the smaller port cities of Samhaven carried that same buzzing, protective arcana.
And Sophrosyne was far more than just a city.
It was technically an independent city-state, an enclave within the territories of Pyrhhas that had retained itssovereignty when the Atlassian Houses were formed, several hundred years ago.
More importantly, it was home to the most prestigious college of arts and sciences that one could attend: The Arcane Studium. It was here that a Resonant could become a Conduit, learning to channel their elemental abilities into the complex arcana of the gods themselves—or at least something akin to it. We mortals would never be able to access the near-limitless powers of creation that our ancient, immortal ancestors once had.
The woman who led us through the gates and directed us towards the annex of a larger building was so tall and lithe that, at first glance, I had almost assumed she was one of the nineteen immortal patrons of this city.
I wouldn’t have been particularly surprised if I saw a pair of pointed ears and glowing eyes staring back at us as she turned, but alas. There were no pointed, feral fangs in her smile either. While our guide was stunning, she did not carry the telltale signs of our Elder species. Our physical differences were supposedly just happenstance, a random byproduct of evolution—but I envied the beauty of the gods, even if I’d only ever seen it depicted in paintings.
No matter, I reminded myself. I would face them soon enough.
Our guide reiterated this after gathering us all in the foyer. Her feminine voice sparkled as it echoed off the white marble columns of the entryway and the matching tiles, just as polished as the city walls.
“Those of you who have been selected for today’s round of trials, please be seated in the aisles to your right. Those of you who have been assigned to tomorrow’s round, please form an orderly line here,” she said, gesturing to the podium to her left. “I will distribute vouchers for your room and board tonight.Please bear in mind that you are expected to stay within this particular section of the Western district of the city until you have completed your trial.”
“What happens if we don’t stay in this particular section?” A thin, reedy voice rang out to challenge her. I didn’t even have to turn around to know the speaker would be deathly pale, with thin blonde hair and limpid blue eyes that lived beneath a permanently furrowed brow.
Of course it would be Percival who had to ask, who somehow couldn’t read between the lines and deduce what seemed rather obvious to me. Had he not felt the wards?
“You are welcome to try to enter the city on your own and see what happens, young Master Zephirin,” the tall, elegant woman said with a wry smile. “But I highly recommend against it. We would rather not send you back to the House of Gales in pieces.”