Powers of the Six (9 page)

Alec clenched his teeth. He couldn’t let them win. But there was no way around this. If he didn’t do this, they’d arrest him. It would serve no purpose at all, except to hurt Father more. If Alec let the general arrest him, he would win. Alec tried to calm his rage. Then an idea came to him. Maybe there was one more option …

“How long must I remain in the forest?” Alec asked.

Though it was subtle, Nolan smiled. “The laws note nothing of time.”

Alec turned toward the woods, stepped into the edge of the trees, and trailed it toward camp. General Trividar matched his pace, stalking him with each step. When Alec reached the outcropping of tents where the blue camp stood, he stepped from the woods.

General Trividar glared. As Alec passed him, he purposely bumped the general’s shoulder with his own. “Shame,” Alec said. “Looks like I’ve failed.”

He continued on, ignoring the vein protruding from the general’s neck and the golden-yellow light of his Speed Shay blazing from his eyes. Alec even ignored him when the general gripped the hilt of his sword. Alec had succeeded in making him furious, and that fact alone made him smile. And his smile remained the next several hours, at least until the poison took hold.

***

When Alec woke the next morning—or closer to afternoon—he wasn’t alone in the grass under the blue flag. Sprawled all throughout the camp were what looked like dead bodies after a gruesome battle. But the groaning and retching reminded Alec that they were all alive.

He closed his eyes and tried to ignore another wave of nausea. He couldn’t even imagine how he would’ve felt if he had gorged himself like he’d wanted.

A steady tapping jarred his head. He opened his eyes, stood, and staggered around several people on the ground. The camp waved and lurched before his eyes, the stench of vomit everywhere. He grabbed a tent pole, focused, and kept going until he reached a familiar figure nailing a document to a post.

Nolan grimaced as he pounded the curling paper. Messy brown hair hung in his eyes. Behind the purple bruises mottling his face, Nolan was as pale as if he’d eaten the poison too. He finished hammering and gripped an arm across his chest. He was strange. For some reason, he kept protecting Alec. It wasn’t like Nolan knew him at all. Alec wanted nothing more than to enrage that general. But his wiser half knew he was being stupid. And Nolan kept risking himself so Alec would stay in one piece.

“You okay?” Alec asked.

Nolan released a stuttering breath. “Strange you should ask. You look dreadful.”

“I feel dreadful,” Alec said. “But at least not as bad as them.”

Nolan’s blue eyes passed over the others. “Hm, yes. It’s not much better anywhere else. I’m glad to see you’re up and about.”

“Thanks to you.”

Nolan smiled faintly. “I didn’t do much.”

He grabbed another nail and pounded the paper in place. After he’d finished, he buckled over, resting his hands on his knees.

“I think my rib is broken.” Nolan straightened, though it took him a lot of effort. “It’s a good thing I only have to lift quill and parchment.” He glanced at the hammer in his hand. “Well, at least for the most part.”

Alec pointed at the document Nolan had just posted. “What’s this?”

“The schedule for the rest of the week: Tomorrow, the blue group will do the Challenge of Accuracy; the following day will be Strength; then the next day Speed; and the last day will be Empathy. The other colored groups alternate days. Everyone will get a turn at each trial.”

“Only four more days?”

Nolan nodded.

Alec did a quick calculation. “What about Healing?”

“You’ll get lots of chances to test that power.”

“Doesn’t sound very promising.”

“No, I’m afraid not.”

“And the Perception trial yesterday?” Alec asked. “Did anything come from it?”

“One came into their power. A girl.”

Panic washed over Alec. He scanned the pathetic people across the grass, draped over rocks, propped against trees, and those who just fell where they were on their faces. She wasn’t here. Matter of fact, Alec hadn’t seen her at all.

“A girl from yellow group,” Nolan said. “I believe her name is Sussan. Taryn is waiting this off inside her tent. I checked on her a few minutes ago.” He slipped the hammer into a leather pouch on his side. “Well, only three more signs to go.”

“Want some help?” Alec asked, and then a wave of dizziness clouded his vision. When it cleared, Nolan had a hand on Alec’s shoulder.

“Thanks for the offer, but I don’t think you’re in any shape to do anything.” Nolan studied his face. “And, Alec, quit making my brother angry. He’ll make you regret it.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“I hope so.” Nolan released Alec’s shoulder and gave him a sympathetic smile as he turned and walked away.

Whatever pity Alec had for him was replaced with annoyance. What did Nolan expect him to do? Ignore the general when he taunted him? Alec wouldn’t let General Trividar, or his arrogant friends, get away with it. All he needed was a sword, and he’d show them a thing or two.

A shiver went through his body, and his stomach flipped with such force he couldn’t hold it. He retched while leaning a quivering hand on the post. Alec pulled back up and wiped his mouth with his sleeve.

Yes, he’d show them … just not today.

Chapter Seven

ALEC WATCHED as Captain Faal’s eyes glowed a deep sapphire blue. With a simple motion of the captain’s hand, he cued a group of blue-caped Accuracy archers forward. They positioned themselves next to quivers embedded in the ground and nocked blue-feathered arrows in their bows.

“The Shay of Accuracy complements the art of archery perfectly,” Captain Faal began. “With our special ability, we can hit anything within our range of vision.”

The bows creaked as the Rol’dan pulled back and aimed at numerous colorful targets at the far end of the field.

“Ready?” Captain Faal said. “
FIRE!
”

A volley of arrows sang through the air and
thudded
into the targets, each finding their mark in the center blue circle.

“Red.”

A swish of arrows all landed in the red rings.

“Yellow.”

The arrows impaled the yellow rings.

Captain Faal called off numerous colors in quick succession before calling “blue.” With a crack of wood, the arrows found the center targets, splitting the previous arrows in two.

The trial bearers erupted in cheers.

“Fantastic,” a nearby girl said.

Taryn nodded with wide eyes as she clapped in approval.

Alec wasn’t impressed.

Nolan leaned toward Alec. “Your father probably doesn’t make many bows or arrows in his armory, does he?”

“No,” Alec whispered. “Not enough steel to suit him.”

“For those of you who are untrained in archery,” Captain Faal said, “we’ll give you an opportunity to learn before your Challenge of Accuracy begins.”

Captain Faal separated them into groups, giving a quick lesson on the proper way to hold the long bow, where to position the arm, and how to sight the arrow. When it was Alec’s turn, he found that—much like swordplay—he had natural talent. Unlike many of the others, Alec could hit the target.

“Hold your fire,” Captain Faal called.

General Trividar came over the hill with a group dressed in black robes. Green sashes strung across their chests, marking them as the sect of the Healing Rol’dan.

Alec had been feeling pretty good about his archery skills. But seeing those Healers … Well, that couldn’t mean anything good.

Captain Faal gave a quick bow to the general before speaking. “Sir, we are about to begin.”

“Good, Captain. Proceed.”

Captain Faal motioned to two of his Accuracy Rol’dan, and they took a place on the opposite side of the field, a good twenty paces on either side of the centermost target.

“As you know,” Captain Faal said, “the Shay of Accuracy gives one perfect aim. Your task for this trial will be to hit with perfect aim as well. You will have only three chances. If you miss, the result could prove quite painful.”

A boy raised his hand.

Captain Faal pointed at him. “Yes? Questions?”

“What do you mean by painful?”

The captain smiled. “As mentioned before, to bring forth a Shay, one must focus intense emotions into the center where the Shay lies dormant. But shooting targets alone will not bring forth a Shay. Which is why if you miss the target, our archers will return fire.”

The boy’s mouth dropped open. “They’ll shoot us?”

The crowd murmured, anxious energy spreading.

“They may shoot you. Or they may not. As long as you hold still, our Accuracy Rol’dan will avoid a fatal blow. The result of dodging may be an arrow between your eyes”—he motioned to the black robed Healers—“and our Healers will not raise the dead. So far in our history, we’ve never had a death with this portion of the trial.”

Alec snorted. So far … How reassuring.

General Trividar stepped forward, false concern plastered on his conceited face. “I’m sure you can all agree that the temporary discomfort is necessary. How else can you discover if you can be an honored Rol’dan?”

Alec’s stomach lurched with disgust.
Honored Rol’dan
?

The participants calmed slightly, fear still trickling through them.

“Perhaps a demonstration is in order?” General Trividar suggested. His eyes roved over the group, stopping on Nolan. “I believe our scribe would be more than happy to show us.”

Nolan’s face paled.

Captain Faal frowned. “It isn’t really necessary—”

“I must insist.” The general held out his arm, as if giving Nolan a warm invitation.

Alec thought Nolan might refuse, but he squared his shoulders and stepped forward, grimacing as he bent to get an arrow. He was in no condition for archery. He nocked it and closed his eyes for several long moments.

“I didn’t call you to sleep,” General Trividar said.

Several of the Rol’dan chuckled.

Nolan opened his eyes, pulled the bowstring, and his lips contorted. He released it, and it landed with a quiet thump into the soil in front of the target.

“Perfect example. Thank you, Nolan,” the general said.

Nolan inhaled and straightened his posture, awaiting the return fire. The arrow whistled through the air and
thudded
into Nolan’s shoulder. He jolted back a step and stifled a cry, but made no movement to remove it. Instead, he leaned over, trembling, his eyes closed.

Alec clenched his fists, and Taryn clung to his arm. General Trividar hadn’t used Nolan just for example. He wanted to make a fool of him.

General Trividar strode in front of their shocked and silent group. He made an annoyed gesture to the Healers before he spoke. “As you can see, a missed shot resulted in a shot returned. And as you can also see, he is very much alive.”

Captain Faal stepped forward. “I should also note that hitting the target does not signify a successful shot. A center shot is the only one accepted. Only a truly accurate shot will pass the trial.”

“That’s impossible,” Taryn whispered. “None of us can do it.”

“That’s the idea,” Alec whispered back. “We aren’t meant to pass unless we have Accuracy.”

Captain Faal began arranging the group, leading them to the other side of the hill away from the range.

“I can’t even hit the target.” Taryn’s eyes widened. “What are we going to do?”

“Nothing,” Alec said, frowning. “We have no choice. Besides, it’ll be a few hours before it’s our turn. We should check on Nolan and see if he’s okay.”

She nodded, though still pale. She glanced at their linked arms, gasped, and dropped her hands to her sides. He stared at where she’d held him, disappointed; the spot felt suddenly cold.

They pushed through the crowd toward Nolan, and a Healing Rol’dan stepped into their path.

“Just a moment,” the Rol’dan said. He turned to Nolan and yanked the arrow free.

Nolan grunted out what sounded like a curse.

The Healer ripped open Nolan’s bloodied tunic, placed his palms on Nolan’s pale chest, and closed his eyes. When he opened them, an emerald light glowed.

The Rol’dan shuddered; spots of moisture seeped through his robe on his shoulder, exactly where the arrow had been. But the most amazing sight was when purple bruises swelled on the Rol’dan’s face, and after a moment, faded to normal again.

When he’d finished, the Healer dusted himself off and walked away as if nothing had happened.

Alec stared. He’d never seen anything like it.

“Crows, Nolan,” Taryn said. “Are you okay?”

Nolan smiled. “I’m quite well, actually.” He ran his hand across his face where the bruising had been.

Alec couldn’t get over it. He knew he shouldn’t be impressed—especially of a Rol’dan—but he couldn’t help it.