Page 94 of An Empress of Fire & Steel

“It is none of your business, Blacksteel,” the cold one jeered. “It would do you good to remember that.”

The watchtower had been an age away from the alcove, with flights and flights of steep steps that made Emara’s eyes strain in concentration to be careful. Her lungs tight in her chest, she panted for breath as she climbed her way to the top, where the Supreme had requested to see her. Torin stalked up the steps in front, and she could already feel the heat from his rage radiating from him.

That was never a good start.

The Supreme’s guards, who had named themselves Easton and Silas, opened the locked door to the watchtower to reveal that people were already congregated there.

All empresses and one guard each.

The Supreme sat against a lilac chaise longue that angled itself so that she could stare out the floor-to-ceiling windows. Emara could see the rocky mountain terrain cuddled around the palace, like protectors of their own, but the darkness of the night was sweeping in, and stealing the scenery.

All of the eyes from Houses Earth, Spirit, Water, and Fire followed Emara as they watched her enter the large room with Torin. He straightened, becoming more statuesque, and she saw the look in the Supreme’s eyes as she glanced at Torin the way all women did.

Deleine stood gracefully, looking over the people in front of her. “I can feel the power of you all, even as you stand before me.” Her voice had a hint of delight. “I can see it now as I look in all of your eyes, and it is wonderful. We will be strong.”

Emara wondered what colour swirled in her irises tonight as she looked upon her Supreme. A darkness would swirl there, she presumed.

“I wish that you all were standing in front of me due to different circumstances, but I am unable to change the past or the trauma that we have suffered.”

Emara looked over to her right, where the Empress of Earth stood with Marcus Coldwell, her eyes filling with sadness.

“As you are all going to be coven empresses, I need to trust that all of you will take care of my witches. And not only that, but have faith in me as your leader.”

“We have faith,” a voice said, strong and dominant. It was the voice of Rya Otterburn. Her impressive demeanour represented how majestic and proud House Fire could be. She stood like a lioness beside her guard, her shoulders back.

The Supreme’s glance flickered Rya’s way, and then over the others, who hadn’t been brave enough to say anything to their leader. Her lips parted, and her chin dipped in a way that showed all angles of her skeletal collarbone. “I need to protect my faction, and that means I can have no more casualties. I need to know that I have the correct witch supporting her elemental house. I need to know that you are willing to let me guide our covens through this treacherous time. We are at war, and we need to stand as one.” She took a small breath. “I trust that every witch who stands before me has no other dominant element that should invalidate their crown. It will weaken us. You all know that it is forbidden to take the title of empress in the eyes of Rhiannon if another element should exceed the one that you will bow before. If that is the case, you need to make yourself known to me now.”

Emara thought of her mother. And how, although air had been in bloodline, fire was dominant in her magic. But she had seen the desolate spark of fear in her grandmother’s eyes as it had turned to rage, and then fear again, as she shut down Sereia’s claims of what she bore. Theodora had silenced them.

It was dangerous for a witch to claim another witch’s crown unless she was going to take the ultimate crown. Even Torin had confirmed that.

A broken breath stammered through her chest, but she did not move. She didn’t dare.

“At the moment, I bare all elements,” Rya said, lifting her chin so that every empress in the room watched her in envy. “But nothing is greater than my fire.”

She had every element in her arsenal.

The Supreme nodded. “I appreciate your integrity.”

A voice floated from the Empress of Water that was both lulling and vigorous. “I am strong with healing magic, and I dabble in some spirit work, but my waves could destroy an entire city; therefore, I am confident to declare water as my only House.”

Emara watched as the water witch spoke casually, as if unaware that wiping out an entire city with a wave of her magic was unnatural. She had no idea how powerful she was.

“I could raise a spirit army on the Otherside,” Kerrix Bellfield announced, with a smirk on her purple-painted lips. “I have no interest in exploring any other element. I like living with the dead. I am happy conferring with the wise ancestors of the past; there is no need for me to practise anything else.”

A cackle blew through the room like a draft of wind, and Emara could feel it around her. It was Kerrix tapping into her magic and pulling through ancestors from the Otherside. Gusts of energy lifted strands of Emara’s hair into the air, and she felt the temperature of the room drop. Chills ran up her spine the same way they had when she had first met Melione—the spirit witch—in the Huntswood markets. Her magic began ringing in her bones. The candles flickered, and there were a few murmurs from the guards, but the Supreme nodded in Kerrix’s direction, acknowledging her claims.

Sybil spoke next, a shake in her voice confirming how anxious she was. “I am a healer through and through. I could place my palm into the ground, frozen to death by winter, and in seconds, the gardens around me could be blooming with life as if it were spring. I have a little water magic, and my element for air is strong. But not like my will to empower earth or nurse the broken bones of a warrior.”

Emara was stunned at how well Sybil had warmed into her conversation, and she could see that there was a little bit of her who was still with her sorrow to be strong in front of the other covens.

All gazes turned to Emara.

“And you.” The Supreme’s starlit eyes were upon her face.

Emara tried her hardest to hide her tremor, her fear, but couldn’t. She stuttered.

“Miss Clearwater has shown signs of healing, and signs of fire, but I have seen first-hand her power in air magic. Although she is a new witch, that is where her strength lies.” Torin’s proud chin lifted, and he didn’t take his eyes from the Supreme. “Air magic is in her bloodline.”

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