Trial?

That…doesn’t sound great.

But the skyborn student’s disdainful regard pricked at my senses. The two deepborn looked almost pitying, and Lektre’s leer was burning itself into my retinas.

So I didn’t ask what the Trial thing was all about. And I didn’t explain my memory situation or that I had a whole world of catching up to do before any of my goals were anywhere near achievable. No. I gritted my teeth, squared my shoulders a bit, and gave a curt nod.

Lektre’s grin stretched wider still.

“Most excellent. A true challenge.” They turned their twitching gaze on the others. “The rest of you have until the day of our next meeting to settle on your own Trials and bring them before me for approval, at which time I will work with each of you personally to map out your path to achievement. Ashri-Sa. As your trial is already set, we shall speak first. Come.”

Turning on their heel, Lektre led me a short distance away from the others, to a spot where a number of overturned barrels were grouped together. Picking up a pair of objects that resembled detached door handles decked in sigils, the professor handed one to me then took a seat on a barrel, indicating I should do the same.

Within seconds of wrapping my palm about the handle, everything went strangely quiet. The voices of the other students were muffled, and I couldn’t even hear the incessant dripping of water any longer. Lektre showed their teeth.

“No one else will hear what we say. So tell me…how’d you muster up the gumption to set yourself an academy-killer of a Trial when you’ve got no memories and no idea in the highest of hills of how sigilcraft works? Tell me, girl, do you even know what the Trial is?”

I stared at them.

“You—”

They scoffed.

“Of course I know. The Foremost and I are close colleagues, girl. Have you lost your wits too?”

My jaw worked, but no words came out.

They sniffed and leant forward, resting their elbows on their knees as they regarded me, one glittering blue eye narrowed.

“I can’t help but wonder—how did you lose them to begin with, and why haven’t you done anything about it?

I stared at them. Blinked.

They snorted and shook their head.

“That’s what I thought. You’re going to have to choose, you know. And soon. If you can’t live with your shame, girl, than you shall have to live in it. A failed Trial means no graduation. Leaving you a useless limb in your coven. A burden. A shame.”

“I have books,” I said, though my voice betrayed me. Weak and quivering. “I’ll re-learn everything I need to. I’ll—”

“HA!”

Lektre’s ringing bark of a laugh robbed me of my last few words.

“Relearn? From books? Girl, you were a savant. You studied the subject from your earliest days of reading, I’m told. You would need a decade to catch yourself back up. And you had an instinct for it, an innate sense of the craft that only the greatest of us ever do. And now you’ve gone and walled it all off. But talent in sigilcraft is a separate sort of smarts entirely than common sense, eh? And now you’ve neither.”

Angry tears rose to the corners of my eyes.

Other Zia had thought I could do it. Specifically summoned someone who could. That had to count for something…right?

Right?

Lektre’s eyes widened briefly as I sniffed, refusing to rub at my own as the tears slipped down my scaly cheeks and clung in my fur.

“You have set yourself a goal that even the most seasoned sigilcrafters would consider the penultimate challenge of their careers. And you know nothing. You are a fool.”

My whole face screwed up as I fought to suppress the intensity of my emotions. The urge to argue that they’d basically tricked me into setting that goal as my Trial.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

“I…I know,” I said at last.

“You will spend the rest of this period in thought. By the end, you will make your choice. To reclaim what you have discarded, or to doom yourself to failure in all of your endeavors. Speak with me once you have your decision, and I will set your assignment for today’s practical application.”

Standing, they put their hand out before me, palm up. For a half second, I thought they meant to help me from my seat. Luckily, I realized their true intent before I could embarrass myself, and handed them the sigil-covered handle thing. Then I retreated to the wall with the biggest vein of Opal, and Lektre called next on the skyborn to take my place.

Drawing up to the vein, I turned my back to it. Leant against it, pressing as much of myself as I could to the stone. My fur raised on end and my back arched as the power breathed into me, nerve endings lighting up in an invisible constellation of power.

I released a long, trembling sigh—vaguely aware that some of the others were watching me and challenging myself not to care.

What do I do?

What the hell do I do?

There was only one answer. That was the problem. I’d known it the whole time, if I was honest with myself. But I hadn’t been willing to accept it. To confront it.

I confronted it then, as the power of unmined Opal set me alight. I would make that power mine. I would harness it. I would have my wings. And somehow, no matter what it took…I would complete my Trial. But first, I had to face Vyr. Again.

Lektre bared their teeth in that absolutely feral grin of theirs as I approached them at the end of class.

“You’ve got light in your eyes,” they said. “And maybe some sense left in you after all.”

“I’m taking myself back,” I said, lifting my chin.

“In that case, your assignment for Practical Application Period is finding and choosing the method and practitioner, and making the arrangements.” And at that, they actually clapped me on the back and gave my a little shove. “Off with you, then, wretch. Get it done.”

As I made my rickety way back up the stairs and out of the Shaft, about three-quarters up, I scented it. The tart juniper-berry signature of Shen, the skyborn Opal I’d met just before class. And when I stepped up the last stair, there he was…leaning against the wall across from me.

“Er, hello again,” I scrunched my nose. “Do you have a class here soon?”

“Mm, I do not,” he said, flipping what looked like a large coin set with patterns of gem chips between his knuckles. It glittered in the light of the lanterns, mesmerizing.

“Oookay then, well…see you later,” I said, making to continue on past him.

“So. Your memory problem,” he drawled. I stopped short. Twisted my head around to stare at him.

“How do you—“

“I can help you with it, if you like,” he said, smiling. “And once you’ve got your memories back, perhaps you could help me with something.”

Turning my whole body to face him, I fixated on the coin-thing whirling between his fingers.

“Did you listen in on us somehow?”

He shrugged.

“I’m inventive, and good at what I do. I’m your best bet.”

“I barely even know who you are,” I replied. “But you clearly have zero regard for anyone’s privacy. Besides, I’ve already got an offer. From a coven-mate.” I emphasized the last bit, thinking that would settle it.

A coven-mate. Someone I can trust. Unlike you, the suspicious eavesdropping lurker.

Shen’s lips formed an “oh” of gentle surprise, eyebrows lifting.

“The Onyx? I am surprised that you would look to that craft, of all things, over your own.”

“Vyr is very good at what she does,” I said. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got things to do.”

Setting my jaw and turning my gaze resolutely away, I continued on.

“I’ll be around if you change your mind,” he called after me. “The offer stands. Give it some thought.”

I ignored him. Making my way back to the kitchens, I picked out my food and sat down in the immediate vicinity to eat and wait. Unfortunately, the first of my coven-mates to show up was Erek. While he gathered his own selection, I sidestepped my way to another spot along the wall, sinking down to my haunches in the hopes that he’d overlook me and move on.

No such luck.

“Zia,” he called, trotting over with this sparkly bread-bowl of lunch. “How was your Mentorship session?”

I glanced sideways at him before returning my gaze to the kobolds streaming through the archways.

“Could we not do this, please? I’ve got a lot on my plate right now.”

“That is not a plate.”

“Erek shut the ffffff—” I caught my lip in my teeth, cutting myself off. “I’m waiting for someone in particular, and other than her, I’d like to be alone. Please.”

His ear twitched, his tail flicked.

“Alright,” he said. “Fine.”

Drawing a long breath through my nose as he walked away, I caught what I’d been waiting for. A hint of strawberries and smoky caramel. A second later I picked out the source from amongst the crowd, towering over a small group of deepborn. Vyr must have scented me, too, because she looked immediately my way. We locked eyes, and she gave me an almost imperceptible nod, breaking away from her companions once she’d gotten her food.

“You’ve decided,” she said.

“Yes. Can we talk?”

She huffed.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m eating first. You can wait here or come with me, as you like. I’m going outside.”

I went with her, out onto the carved-out slot of a dining deck with its greenery and row of guards lining the outer edge. Beyond them, the sky was a brilliant cyan peeking through fluffy heaps of drifting cloud. Vyr sat with friends and ignored me as I ate, off to the side somewhat, unable to contribute to their conversation because I had no idea what they were talking about.

“So then,” said the Onyx the instant we made it back to her chamber, wasting no time. “You’ve chosen to go through with it, I assume?”

“Yes. But…there’s more to it than you know.”

She narrowed her already narrow eyes.

“What more to it?”

I took another deep breath. In through my nose, out through my mouth. Slowly. Just like all those annoying hospice employees back on Earth would always tell me to do.

“There’s something I left out, when I was telling you all about the sigil that wiped my memories. Something…kind of big.”