Two days. Forty-eight hours left. I gotta go from being a woman who short-circuited household appliances to a blazing Solar Fae capable of surviving a forced magical bond with a cursed king. Whoops, go me.
The feeling that it was impossible made my head spin, but the gravity of Alaric's warning felt heavy in my chest.
I was still standing in the middle of the large chamber feeling totally hopeless when the doors opened again.
Seriously do these people understand the concept of knocking on doors and receiving permission before entering?
It was another female Fae. She was taller than me, built with the lean, powerful grace of a hunter and dressed in form-fitting black leather armor accented with dull silver. Her hair, the color of washed-out bronze, was cut severely short, and her eyes were a cool shade of silver. They regarded me with a blend of annoyance and mild interest.
"Seraphina Lyra," she stated, her voice crisp. "My name is Vesper. I am your trainer, your guard, and your current warden. However, you should not mistake my duty for loyalty."
"Duly noted," I said, matching her cold tone. "And do you normally train people for high-risk magical forced marriages or is this a special assignment?"
Vesper's lips curved into a thin, humorless smile. "My usual assignment is ensuring the internal security of the Court. Your unwanted presence is a bigger threat to that security than any rival Fae army. We are going to the training chamber. Now."
She didn't wait for a reply, turning and moving toward the door.
Does she have a stick up her ass?
Anyways, I had no choice but to follow.
The deeper we went into the palace, the less grand it became. The high arches gave way to low, sturdy ceilings, and the polished basalt was replaced by rough-cut stone. We went down several winding staircases until the air grew significantly colder, smelling faintly of rain and dust.
"Where are we going?" I asked, finally breaking the silence.
"The Obsidian Pit," Vesper replied, her voice echoing off the stone walls. "It is an older section, heavily warded with grounding runes. It can contain most volatile energies. If you accidentally unleash your Sun-Fire, it won't crack the foundation of the palace."
Most volatile energies. Great. Just what I wanted to hear.
We arrived at a massive, plain metal door that looked more like the entrance to a bank vault than a gym. Vesper pressed a palm to the surface, and the door slid open with a metallic hiss.
The chamber inside was circular, perhaps fifty feet across. Its walls, floor, and ceiling were lined with dense, black material (true obsidian) etched with glowing blue-silver runes that pulsed faintly. There were no windows, and the only light came from the luminescent runes and two small orbs hanging high above. The air inside was still and heavy.
I tsked. Poor ventilation.
"This is where you earn your survival," Vesper said, stepping inside. "The goal is simple, Solar. You need to consciously burn through the wards placed by your people. The King needs you to break that seal. My role is to observe, record, and ensure you don't vaporize yourself or the room in the process."
She pointed toward the center of the Pit where a circle of smooth, white marble had been set into the floor.
"Take off your shoes and stand there. Now. Lorcan and Alaric want to see results. We have six training sessions between now and the ceremony. This is Session One."
I walked to the marble circle. It felt cold beneath my bare feet. I looked back at Vesper who was leaning against the wall with her arms crossed and her silver eyes radiating impatience.
"So, how do I do this? Do I channel my inner angst? Think about getting fired from my job?"
Although I most definitely am already fired from the library cleaning job. There might still be hope at the Coffee shop though, if I am able to return within a week.
"Channel your magic," Vesper corrected flatly. "You know it's there. You feel the static. Instead of letting it react to fear, demand it to obey you. The mages believe that the Solar essence is heat and light. Start small. Generate a flame in your palm."
I closed my eyes. I focused inward, trying to find that persistent, buzzing feeling beneath my skin. It was usually centered in my solar plexus, a nervous energy that always felt on the verge of popping.
Demand it.
I stretched out my left hand, picturing a small, contained campfire in my palm. I focused my will, pouring every ounce of desperate intention into that humming center. I needed light. I needed heat. I needed to live.
I pushed. I strained. I felt the buzzing intensify, rising up my arm toward my open palm. It felt like I was trying to force open a jammed lock with nothing but muscle memory.
After what felt like five long minutes, I opened my eyes, panting hard.
My hand was empty. Not a flicker of heat. Not even a warm glow. The only sign that I had tried was the sweat cooling on my forehead.
"Well?" I asked Vesper, dropping my arm defeatedly.
Vesper straightened from the wall, disappointment obvious in her expression.
"It is as Alaric feared," she said, walking toward me. "The Solar Ward is exceptionally strong. It was not designed to be broken, merely to hold you stable in the human realm. You are fighting twenty years of magical suppression."
She stopped at the edge of the marble circle. "Think of it like this: your power is boiling water, and the ward is a heavy iron lid. When you panic, the steam blows off the lid a bit. That's the static electricity that destroyed things around you. But now, you need to lift the lid with sheer, intentional focus. And you cannot do it."
She sighed, running a hand over her bronze hair. "The King does not accept failure, Seraphina. He has placed his fate in your hands, and now I have to watch you fumble with it. Try again. Focus on the anger. Focus on the hatred you have expressed for him. Let it fuel the burn."
I turned back to the center of the circle, my fists clenching at the mention of Lorcan. Hatred. Yes. That I could summon.
I closed my eyes again, and this time, I didn't think about campfires. I thought about the chill of Lorcan's hand on my collarbone. I thought about his cold arrogance. I thought about him calling me a moth, a prize, a weapon.
I pushed with pure, white-hot rebellion.
No. I will not be your pawn.
This time, the buzzing intensified and snapped. I felt a sudden release in my core, followed by a fleeting rush of blinding light behind my eyelids.
When I gasped and opened my eyes, there was nothing. No flame. No light.
But a single, tiny scorch mark had appeared on the white marble floor. It was the size of a pea, directly beneath where my left foot had been resting.
I looked up at Vesper, whose silver eyes were now wide with surprise.
"You didn't summon fire," Vesper murmured, a flicker of hope entering her tone. "You melted the stone with the residual heat of your intention. You have broken a millimeter of the seal."
She looked less annoyed now and more interested, like a scientist with a fascinating specimen.
"But there are only two day left, Solar," she repeated, her voice grim. "If you spend this much power and effort to melt a pea-sized hole, you will be nothing but a scorched cinder when the King comes to claim you."