As The World Catches Fire

Chapter 8: Overdoing It

Behind the Frozen Keep, and outside the spiral walls that dominated the Korongorod, was a wide expanse of lawn enclosed by a half-circle of white verandas. It was lined in stone walkways, silver planters of blushing roses, and icy fountains of mounted warriors from legend, all lit by massive braziers. But the far side of the lawns held no decorations, no buildings. For the greens were situated right at the Korongorod's outer border, and so they fell away abruptly to open sky like a cliff's edge. Perhaps another day, the greens would be hosting lavish garden parties or noble sport. In today's case, they would demonstrate a bonded's capabilities.

Andiya strode onto the field in front of me in full Eon regalia. She found her place in the centre, turned, and bowed low.

The Frozen Keep's balcony dripped with hulking icicles. Irina stared down at us, her diadem bright like a star. Behind her was a retinue of bored-looking dignitaries. I wondered how many of them believed the rumours of a High Order, and what the deniers thought the archon had really died from. I took my place on the left side of the field, level with Andiya. Across, Jawahir took the right.

"Set!" barked Jawahir, and Andiya and I stood at attention. "Release!"

I raised my hand open-palmed to indicate that I was giving my bonded its magic.

The bond remained tight.

"Release!" Jawahir repeated, more insistent this time.

I tried. I pulled on the bond, and Andiya's muscles tautened. Come on. Come on, Rozin. Let go.

But my neck grew hot from the staring, I'd already taken too long, and I looked up to see Irina white-knuckled on the balcony railing with rage. Her dignitaries tittered amongst themselves.

A figure waved from the side of the greens. Blonde hair, grey uniform. Yulia.

"Let's go, Rozin!" she cheered, and I saw more people shoving in behind her. Rafiq, Shokarov, some of our riders. My squad was here to watch me fail.

"Release!"

Irina began to have an argument with the man beside her, and I almost ditched the field in panic.

He was a towering, simply-clothed man with narrow, cruel eyes—one of them a solid, unforgiving black. His bald head was shaped like a bird's skull, papery white and cracked with fine dark lines from some mishandled magic years ago. I didn't need to be on that balcony to hear the echo of Seylas's sandpaper rasp.

"This will end when I say it does."

My hold slipped, and Andiya's magic surged into her. Her head dropped back as power swirled between us, thick and head-spinning as liquor.

"Rozin Kain of the Eon Guard," said Jawahir with relief. "First display of bonded Andiya, High Order, Fire Elemental class."

I began to motion as I'd seen Yulia do. The Canavar military had a standard set of signals for bonders, so that their comrades knew what the daemon was being ordered to do. The trick was to make Irina believe my signals meant something. Yulia controlled Artem as an extension of herself, but the same was not possible for Andiya and I. So we had to fake it.

My hand curled into a fist above my head in the battle-ready indicator.

Andiya planted her feet. She swept her hands open-palmed against her shaved head, and a murmur swept through the spectators. Where Andiya's fingers passed, crimson hair flowed in a shimmering cascade. It tumbled against her back in loose curls, bright against the morning sun like a river of blood. She threw me a grin, and I found myself lingering on the sight. Power hummed from her, buzzing my skin. She was once again so solid, so real, drawing every eye with an electrifying magnetism. This was who Andiya was meant to be. Not some beaten prisoner. But ferocious. Dangerous. Heart-stopping.