Page 68 of Storm Caller

“As we do with all Storm Guard cadets.”

“And you noticed nothing unusual?”

She shakes her head. “Nothing at all. She does possess a higher-than-average ability to withstand and ground Spark, but it’s well within the usual parameters.”

“Why would she be higher than average?” The question comes from Chancellor Orsen this time.

He must know the answer, but it feels like he’s asking for the benefit of the crowd.

The doctor shrugs. “It’s like any innate ability. A combination of genetics and luck.”

“Did you test her beyond the initial round?” General Sol asks. Again, I’m sure she knows the answer but is clarifying for the audience. I notice someone in the corner frantically scribbling notes on a tablet, and I wonder if my trial’s details will make it to the newsfeed. I can’t decide if that will help or hinder my case.

“Of course,” Dr. Eze says. “As Storm Guard cadets continue their training, we keep a careful eye on how they react to increasingly strong doses of galvanic energy. In most cases, the students will develop increasing immunity as time goes on.”

“And in other cases?”

“In other cases, they simply do not progress. Some people do not have the evolutionary requirements to do so. As you well know, General, when that happens, they are offered other positions in the Tempestade beyond the front line.”

“And what happened in Poet’s case?” Sol asks.

“She made the typical progress we see in a promising Storm Guard cadet.”

“What about for a Breaker?” Sol asks.

“Yes,” Dr. Eze says with a nod. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she eventually qualified for Breaker training.”

I stand very still as they pepper her with more and more questions. Dr. Eze is lying. I’m sure of it. Under oath. To the entire Shield. She’s lying for me, and it must be due to General Sol. How many people are in on this?

While they interrogate her about the science behind the evolutionary process that results in Keepers, I do my best to ignore the brewing storm. It’s gathering strength, the clouds billowing and tumbling. I wonder if General Sol will have to excuse herself, leaving me without an ally.

I notice her glance out the window, worry furrowing her brow. She checks something on her watch, then returns her attention to the trial.

Finally, The Shield finishes with Dr. Eze, and she’s escorted away. I wish I could catch her eye, but she doesn’t look over.

Next to appear is Henry, and I nearly collapse in relief. I don’t know if he’s here to speak on my behalf, but his presence is always reassuring. He nods at me, his mouth pressed into a hard line, before he’s positioned in front of The Shield.

“Lieutenant Henry Crawford,” Marks says. “Tell us your relationship to the accused.”

Henry links his hands behind his back, spreading his stance. “I was her Storm Guard trainer at Amery Academy.”

“Anything else?”

“I was in a relationship with her brother before he died.”

His voice dips on the last word, and I look over at my parents. My mom is clutching her throat, while my dad sits with an arm draped across the back of her chair, his legs crossed as he stares at Henry without expression.

“Do you know her well?”

“Not really,” Henry says. “We didn’t engage much on a personal level prior to her brother’s death, and our interactions were strictly academic during her training.”

“Did you notice anything unusual about her?”

“Not at all, Chancellor. She was a talented and dedicated cadet, much like her brother.”

My throat knots at those words, tears threatening to rise. I’ve become so good at repressing the emotions that always surface at the mention of Raine. But now they return, bubbling under my skin, reminding me of what I lost. I watch Henry’s shoulders twitch, almost as though he wants to turn my way.

“During the cadet simulations, you didn’t see anything that might have been cause for concern?” General Sol asks.