“Apparently, it’s a foreseeing ability. However, at the moment, everything is as clear as mud. I can see different probable outcomes, but not why they change, and let me tell you, they alter vastly,” she groans as she rubs the back of her neck. “Thus far, even with practice, nothing has panned out the way I predicted it would happen.” Her brows dip and her lips thin, causing her face to morph into a crestfallen appearance.
“Mallory, that’s invaluable… You’ll be incredibly sought after when we graduate. You could sway the outcomes of battles and negotiations, and save lives. That’s beyond powerful,” I tell her. Her manifestation is incredibly respected in the army. I’ve even heard my mother talk about it in high regard, and that’s saying something.
“It’s all a bit overbearing at the moment.”
Finnley is suddenly quiet and staring at his plate.
“What about you, Finnley?” I ask, wiggling my brows at him. “Have you…?” I trail off at the blank expression on his face.
“It’s too soon to know where it’s headed. Best to hold off talking about it until I’m sure,” he evades.
I kick his foot playfully under the table. “I’m sure whatever it is will be just as impressive as Mallory’s,” I offer, taking the hint that he doesn’t want to talk about it. “I mean, at least you both are manifesting, regardless of how murky it all is right now. So many already did during the blood initiation, and then others are slowly coming into their powers like you both. And thenthere’s me.” I pat my chest. “I haven’t shown anything,” I say, hoping to boost their morale a bit with self-deprecation.
“You will, Nori. Give yourself time. There haven’t been many Liminals before you. To be part of each regiment is impressive enough in itself,” Finnley offers with his usual customary support.
“I don’t know about impressive, but it sure is isolating,” I whisper.
Chapter twenty
After lunch, I head out to the training field to meet Ambrose before my next class.
Snow crunches under my boots as I step into the clearing and walk across the field. The mazes are long gone, as if they never existed. It’s now a frozen expanse of white under the gray winter sky. Wooden dummies and practice weapons are scattered among the fresh powder. The far edges of the perimeter blur in a haze of frost and fog, making the area feel mysterious and beautiful. This is where cadets have their endurance, skills, and resolve tested.
Right now, it’s just vast fields of fallen snow and Ambrose up ahead.
A soft gasp leaves me as he raises his hands, fire shooting out with deadly accuracy, hitting target after target. The flames are a sentinel being, moving like a living thing. Angry, ancient, and powerful. It behaves like a caged beast finally freed.
His hood is lowered, the wind tugging at his unbound hair, whipping it across his face as he concentrates. His shoulders tense as he puts all his effort into controlling the unpredictable flames. It’s magnificent to witness. I carefully make my way to his side, clearing my throat so he knows I’m here. He shoots a quick look in my direction before closing both fists, extinguishing the fire immediately.
I slowly clap my hands. “Impressive.”
“It’s a great party trick,” he teases, a quiet smile tugging at his lips.
“I still can’t believe you’re a fire wielder,” I admit, shaking my head in disbelief.
“You and me both.” He quietly laughs and rubs his hands on his thighs.
He approaches the targets, inspecting the first as he runs a hand over the burnt bull’s-eye. His broad frame causes him to sink in the snow as he makes his rounds to the other three. He’s a perfectionist, and nothing less than excellence will pass his scrutiny. He must be satisfied with what he sees because he turns and walks directly back toward me.
I wrap my arms around myself, as if the gesture will protect me from the elements. He throws a heavy arm over my shoulder and looks down at me, his lips pulling into a full-blown smile, highlighting his straight white teeth. “Itwaspretty cool, huh?” he asks.
The corners of my mouth lift. “Very badass,” I confirm.
I scan the area as we walk back toward Kintoira. The training field is empty except for the two of us. Soon, lunch will be over, and it will once again be filled with students practicing their craft, but for the moment, it’s quiet and peaceful.
“How did they remove the mazes so quickly? The walls were enormous.”
“They didn’t actually remove anything,” he answers, taking in our surroundings.
I keep walking, waiting for him to answer because it’s too cold to stop and talk. “Well, they didn’t grow legs and walk away.”
He tugs me in close to him and ruffles my hair.
I swat him away.
“It was an illusion, brat. A hell specifically crafted for you by the upper-level Noctryns. Nothing you saw, feared, and escaped from within that maze was real.”
I can feel my jaw drop on its own accord. Ambrose takes a finger and pushes it closed.
