“Ven, they’re children.” Alet’s voice was a whisper.
Looking at them, really looking at them, he felt his heart lurch. She’s right, he thought. Nearly all of them were first and second years, no more than sixteen years old. All of these girls had been sent here by their families because they’d displayed mastery over more than one spirit. Girls who could only influence one spirit stayed at home and were apprenticed to local hedgewitches—they would grow to be valuable to their community—but the hope was that these girls would grow to be valuable to the realm. The problem was, they weren’t done growing.
It’s more than just a problem, Ven realized. It’s a disaster.
“Headmistress Hanna, where are the older students?”
“Already chosen, or gone,” came the answer. “After the coronation, we had an influx of champions looking for new candidates, and an exodus of students who wanted a less dangerous life. These are the students who remain.”
The afternoon wore on, until each of the girls had demonstrated her so-called skills more than once with a variety of spirits. Ven’s heart sank further and further.
At last, the headmistress approached him. “You don’t look pleased, Champion Ven.”
“That’s his normal expression,” Alet said.
The headmistress flashed her a brief smile. “I am aware of our favorite champion’s temperament, guardswoman. Come, Champion Ven, what did you expect after the coronation took our best and brightest?” Her voice held an edge, and Ven briefly wondered if she blamed him, but then he dismissed the thought. No one could have predicted what had happened on Coronation Day, when the spirits turned on the heirs instead of crowning one. He still didn’t know how Daleina had triumphed that day. She never spoke of it.
Quietly, he asked, “Do any have ability with all the spirits?”
“Of course, Champion Ven, they all do, or will. Anyone who fails their level’s basic aptitude tests is immediately sent home. None of the current students have reached mastery levels yet, but they are hard workers, and I believe you will see their potential.”
He turned back to the practice circle without replying. A young girl was knocked flat on her back by an earth spirit no larger than a mole. It launched itself at her ankle, biting her before one of the teachers stepped in.
I can’t do it. He’d be leading them to slaughter. At least Daleina and the other young women had all been fully trained by the time the trials began.
He turned his attention to the teachers, hoping against hope to see the right spark of power there. These women were older, experienced, but none had mastery of all the spirits, or even the potential for it. Most were only adept with one, which was why there were so many masters on the field. One (or more) for each kind of spirit: air, earth, water, wood, ice, and fire. They took turns teaching and protecting the students, and their training was rigorous but effective—this school had produced several queens over the years, including Queen Daleina and the current queen of Semo, in the northern mountains, who had switched countries in the middle of her training. Reports indicated she was well suited for Semo, since her greatest affinity was to earth spirits, and the mountains housed as many of those as Aratay had wood spirits. But the potential for greatness didn’t solve his immediate problem.
“Who are you going to choose?” Alet asked. “The redheaded one shows promise.” She pointed to a wiry girl who was practicing a sword pattern in one corner of the training field.
Ven grunted. The girl couldn’t have been more than fifteen. She was all gangly bones and new muscle. Her lips were pressed into a determined line. “She has focus,” he admitted. But was that enough? He’d chosen Daleina because of her determination. He’d known from the instant he met her that she would make a good queen. No, a great queen.
And she would have, he thought. She would have been one of our greatest. If she’d had time. His fists were clenched. Consciously, he loosened them and shook his hands out. That was, indeed, the problem: time. There wasn’t enough time to grow any of these girls into the woman that the land needed.
Abruptly, he turned and stalked out of the practice circle, across the entrance foyer, and out of the academy. He heard Alet following him. Only when he was far enough that he couldn’t hear either the girls or their teachers did he stop.
He saw a flash of gray in between the trees. Kneeling, he held his hand out, and a wolf trotted out, doglike, to sniff his fingers. He rubbed behind the wolf’s ears. Bayn didn’t like the capital, and Ven didn’t blame him. “I don’t suppose you have any power over spirits,” he said to Alet without turning around.
She barked a humorless laugh. “Me? None. Hence developing the intense fighting skills.”
No one knew why some were born with power and some weren’t. No one knew why it was only women, and no one knew why some had more power than others. Sometimes it was passed down, mother to daughter, and sometimes it wasn’t. Sometimes the power manifested early, and sometimes it didn’t. But every generation had at least a few women who had enough power to control the spirits and enough strength of mind to become queen. The problem was finding one. “We won’t find her here,” Ven said.
Bayn was watching him steadily. He was an uncanny beast, so intelligent and aware that sometimes Ven forgot he was just an animal. Ven found himself looking at Bayn as if expecting him to think of the perfect solution, as if the wolf could even know what the problem was.
“Give them a chance,” Alet said. “You don’t need to rush your choice. You have fourteen days—milady knew you’d need time. She’s sensible, even when others aren’t.”
He heard the admiration in her voice and shared it. Daleina was extraordinary. This shouldn’t be happening to her. Balling his hand into a fist, he struck a tree. Bark flew away from his knuckles. He heard a growl behind him, and it wasn’t the wolf. Let them come, he thought savagely. He could use a fight.
Alet caught his arm as he pulled back for another punch. “You’re angering the spirits.”
“They anger me.” He could fight them, if he had to. Spirits were difficult to injure, but they hurt and they died, like all else, with enough effort. Still, it would be stupid to risk injury because of a temper tantrum, and the headmistress wouldn’t be happy if he caused a tree near the academy to die. He suppressed the urge to pummel the tree and instead climbed it. Alet followed him.