Page 15 of Crown of Iron
I lean forward, ready to demand his attention, when a bout of lightheadedness washes over me. I grip the arm of the chair and take a deep breath. A power making its presence known is not unheard of. Micah, Borin, my mother, and Salone's gifts all have distinct markers. I could be blindfolded and easily tell who is in the room with me. But this man's power is unlike anything I've encountered. It's a sickening swirl of dark and heat. The dueling sensations build in the base of my throat, but I push past the discomfort, my voice coming out raspy. “General LeFur, I don't want to join just any regiment. I want to be a part of my fa—yours. I know your soldiers are the best, and that's where I want to be.”
“They are the best and I expect nothing less from those who join their ranks. It will not be easy. In fact, few make it through the training.”
“I will. I'll do whatever it takes.”
“We’ll see. You'll start your training tomorrow. Be at the stables at dawn.” He flicks his wrist in dismissal, not bothering to look at me.
I should feel offended. No one but those closest to me has ever shown me such blatant disregard. Everyone addresses me formally and stands in reverence as I exit a room. They treat me like their future queen and not a common nuisance. But the people here don't know who I am, and for the first time in my life, my status will not precede me.
“Thank you for this opportunity,” I say, getting to my feet and making my way to the door.
“By the way, you might want to ditch the fancy clothes; you don'twant to get them dirty. We don't have maid service here, princess.”
I flinch and open my mouth to dispute the title but quickly shut it. There is no way he knows who I am. He's just mocking me, much like the guard who called me a little lady. No one will rush to hand me anything here. For the first time in my life, I'm going to have to prove my worth before I earn respect. And that's precisely what I intend to do.
I yank the door open and say, “Will do, sir.”
Five
Acool droplet beats against my forehead, and with closed eyes, I wipe it away. Through my sleepy haze, birds chirp in the distance and the sun seeps through my eyelids, causing them to glow red. My aching body sinks into the patch of grass acting as my bed, and the satchel under my head shifts as I pull my cloak over my shoulders. I just need a few more minutes of rest.
Freezing water splashes over my face. I bolt upright, coughing and spitting until I catch my breath.
The woman I briefly met in the general's office stands over me in a soiled uniform and covered in scrapes. She shakes droplets from her fingertips, calling back her gift to manipulate water as an Aquatera. Crossing her gargantuan tan arms over her chest, she says, “You're late.”
“What?” I ask, flinching against my tight muscles and the ache in my thigh as I stand upright.
My boots slosh through the puddle of water as I gather my soaked cloak and ring it out. Sleeping on the ground wasn't my first choice, but everyone I tried to speak to last night was busy preparing to leave for a village where the Stigians were expected to attack. I had no choice but to find a place to curl up on the ground and attempt to fall asleep.
The beating of horse hooves and barked orders went on well into thenight. The weight of exhaustion would grasp me, and just as it pulled me under, something with legs would crawl on me or an unknown noise would startle me awake again.
“What part ofyou are latedo you not understand?” the Aquatera snaps.
I throw my satchel over my shoulder. “I'm sorry, ma'am.”
“Don't ma'am me; it's Greer. And get moving before Kyron has your ass.”
“Kyron?”
Greer presses her tongue to the bottom of her front teeth and exhales through her nose. “General LeFur to the likes of you.”
Images of the Stigian flood my head, just as they did all night. Despite my less than comfortable sleeping arrangements, the mystery of General LeFur is what made it difficult to fall into a deep sleep. I couldn't fathom what possessed my father to choose him as his second in command. The risk of letting a Stigian into the fold of our army seems too risky. How did he know Kyron LeFur wasn't a spy? And more importantly, what guarantee did my father have that this man wouldn't siphon the dormant gifts of the Cyffred soldiers? My head was swimming in unanswered questions, just as it is now.
I wrap my arms around my waist and shiver as I meander away from Greer.
“Move!” she barks.
I jerk forward and into a jog, clenching my cloak around me. My heart races. The beat matches the pounding of my feet as I race for the stables.
Soldiers line the dirt street, tending to wounds and unpacking gear. There aren't nearly as many people as yesterday, and I pray the others are still alive in the throes of battle or have retreated to their rooms to rest. As I pass, some soldiers laugh, amused by my drenched appearance. I’d normally stand up for myself, but I can't stand the chance of making enemies of these people. With no other choice, I brush off their snickers.
I round the last corner and stop abruptly, stumbling forward to keep my balance.
Kyron… General LeFur leans against the wooden wall next to the stable's entrance with his arms crossed. He scratches beneath his nose with his thumb and looks up at the sky. “I told you dawn; you're late,” he says in adeep, slow drawl.
My mouth moves before I can gather my thoughts, saying, “I know, but I couldn't find a place to sleep last night, and everyone was so loud. And have you ever slept outside with no cover? Of course you have, you’re a soldier. Anyway, I couldn’t shake off the feeling that something was eyeing me as its next meal. And?—”
He lifts his index finger, and I clasp my lips together, mortification spreading through me. The general pushes off the wall and walks around me. My stomach executes an acrobatic move that leaves me lightheaded. I'm always aware of a Khiros' power. The pulsating rays of light from a Soltera, or the chill of a Glacio, or the sizzling energy from an Electro. But the vibes from Kyron's gift, I can't pinpoint. It closes in on me, blurring the edges of my vision, heating my skin, and brushing against my consciousness like a friendly feline. It tugs at me the closer he gets, drawing me in. Never has someone's gift made me feel like it wants to surround me, pull me under, suffocate me. It’s dangerous.He’s dangerous.
