As the week closed, the pairings for the next round of Trafford’s tournament were announced. Since Nia and Greenspring were new to the roster, they were placed on opposite ends of the bracket. Nia was paired against a famous wrestler named Juno Haiop. Greenspring was paired against a local magician by the name of Vuic of the Ember.

  I was paired against Thrig Paleshield.

  He was a mountain of a man, larger than even Nia. According to local legend, he couldn’t die. Any injuries he sustained were healed instantly. In the last tournament, his head was cleaved straight off his shoulders by a young knight from the kingdom of Grey. The next day, Thrig was found working at the harbor like nothing happened.

  There were many rumors surrounding the self-proclaimed ‘Mad Joker,’ named after the circus troupe he was once a part of. Some said he got his healing ability from a divine bloodline, others assumed it came from a dark ritual. To me, it didn’t matter where he got his powers from. All that mattered was whether he would kill me or not. Zadona had named him as one of the few people that would rise against Trafford, but why? Even she wasn’t sure.

  “Before he lost to that knight, he was really arrogant. It was the first time he’s ever lost,” said Zadona, crouching on the window frame in my room. “Something in him changed. He became quiet, more thoughtful. Though I’ve only been on one job with him since then, so maybe he’s back to normal. Still, I think he blames Trafford for his loss.”

  “Are you sure it’ll be safe to ask him?” asked Beth, nervously looking up at her friend. “What if he tells Trafford what we’re planning?”

  Zadona waved her hand dismissively. “He won’t, trust me. As for Gunner…”

  “After my match,” I said. “We’ll talk to him then. Be safe, Zadona.”

  She grinned. “I should be saying that to you.”

  Beth stepped forward and grabbed Zadona’s hand. “After all this is done, will you come back to Xalir with us?”

  Zadona hesitated as she considered Beth’s question. How many years had it been since she’d last set foot in Xalir? How many people had she killed in that time? As much as I wanted her to come home, she would never be the same Zadona we’d grown up with.

  She silently slipped out of Beth’s grip and disappeared down the side of Valna’s mansion. Beth and I stood by the window for a few minutes. I waited until Zadona’s footsteps were drowned out by the sounds of the city. When I was sure that I couldn’t hear her anymore, I collected the ruined bedsheets and took them out of the room. Beth stayed by the window.

  I needed to clear my head.

  The rest of the morning was spent training with Nia and Greenspring. My match was before there’s, and was rapidly approaching. Every time Nia knocked me to the floor or Greenspring’s wolf broke through my illusions, I imagined it was Thrig. He took over my dreams and every waking thought.

  I thought about his match with Gunner. In my mind, Gunner was the peak of what a mortal could accomplish. It took the combined effort of Nia, Greenspring, and me to take him down. Even so, we barely managed to beat him. Yet Thrig faced Gunner’s attacks without so much as flinching.

  After a long day of training, I stumbled back to my room. Since my training session with Greenspring had taken so long, Beth was already asleep. I peeled off my dirty clothes and went to grab some night clothes out of the dresser. As I reached inside, I expected to feel soft clothing. Instead, I felt the cover of a leather bound book.

  Confused, I picked up the book and brought it to the window. In the dim moonlight, I was barely able to make out the title: The Power of the Heavens: An Introduction to Lightning Magic. Hidden inside the cover of the book was a small piece of paper.

  Norman,

  I was very impressed with your illusions in your last match, but they won’t be good enough to beat Thrig. Try this.

  Your friend,

  Zadona Meyer.

  Lightning magic was a branch of air magic, one of the many types of elemental magic. Elemental magic wasn’t unknown amongst magicians, but I didn’t know many bards that practiced it. Even the strongest magicians avoided using such dangerous magic. A single misspoken word, an improper movement of your hand, and your spell would grow out of control.

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  Piopus warned me against using such magic. He said that it corrupted good magicians, making them waste away their lives as they searched for more power. Deep inside me, I feared becoming like that. Yet when I held that book, I didn’t feel fear. I felt hope. Hope that inside those ink-ridden pages, I would find the power to defeat a god.

  Instead of going to sleep, I sat on the windowsill and read the first few pages. Like the illusion book Gunner gave me, it started with a story. Which was really more like a warning. It was about a young boy climbing to the mountaintops to harness the power of lightning. Before he could cast a single spell, he was struck down. Greed, lust, envy; these were the demons of every magician.

  I fell asleep with the book still open on my lap. Not because it was boring, but because I was so tired from my training. In a few days, I would be fighting against Thrig Paleshield, but for now, I slept. He wasn’t in my dreams. No, I dreamt about sharing a meal with my family. Zadona was there, as if she never left. That was the future I was fighting for.

  The next day, I got to work learning the magic inside the book. It was written for magicians much wiser than me, but I managed to get the gist of what I was supposed to do. Compared to illusion magic, elemental magic was harder, but not by much. Certainly not for a bard like me.

  “Now!” yelled Greenspring, pointing his staff toward a distant target.

  Electricity surged around my hands, emanating from my bones. I felt my blood boil beneath my skin. It burned, but I persisted. Clapping my hands together, I tried to force the energy out through my fingers. The soundwave from the resulting explosion bounced around the training hall. But beyond my hands lighting on fire, nothing happened.

  Beth was on standby, throwing a bucket of water onto my hands as soon as they lit. I flexed my fingers, making sure that I could still feel them. Minor burns covered my hands, but otherwise they were fine. It was easier learning illusion magic, it wasn’t that different from the other spells I knew—the spells Piopus taught me. This was something new, something I wasn’t used to.

  I was glad that Greenspring was around to guide me.

  “Do not force it out,” said Greenspring, examining my hands to make sure they were okay. Shaking his head, he handed me some healing salve to rub into the wounds. It was made from a desert plant called aloe. “Let it flow out by itself. Energy wants to escape the body, that is its natural inclination.”

  “I’m trying,” I muttered, rubbing the salve into my hands.

  “I know. Stop,” said Greenspring, stepping to the side. “You are the conduit, not the source. Do it again.”

  Sighing, I stood up straight and glared at the target. I imagined in my head that it was Trafford. Raising my hands above my head, I yelled, “Cumulonimbus! Lend me your power!”

  Storm clouds formed above my head. I felt a tingle in my fingers, spreading down to my wrists. A spark danced from fingertip to fingertip. Lowering my hands down to the target, I grit my teeth. Focus, don’t push, guide the energy. A flash of light blinded me, a sign that I had the power of the heavens—lightning.

  “Now!”

  I clapped my hands together. My mind was clear, as if all my thoughts had been blown away by the storm. All I could see was the target. Pain surged through me, but I didn’t flinch. It was the energy leaving my body. If I moved even an inch, it could explode early. No, I had to stay strong and let it leave on its own.

  A weak stream of lightning shot out of my hands, barely missing the target by an inch. As soon as it did, all the pain left my body. All my anger, my hate toward Trafford, left as well. What was left was fear of that power. Well, fear was probably the wrong word. More like respect for what that power was capable of.

  The wall behind the target was smoldering as I let my hands fall to my sides. Cracks formed in the wall as the whole structure threatened to fall. Before I could say anything, Greenspring waved his staff toward the cracks. Small vines filled them, seeming to appear out of nowhere.

  Greenspring turned toward me and smiled. “Very good. You learn quick, Norman. Ready to try again?”

  I looked at Beth, who gave me a reassuring smile. “Yeah, let’s do it.”

  By the end of the day, I lost all feeling in my hands. There were many more spells to learn, but I had finished the first step. Even Piopus couldn’t cast a lightning spell. There weren’t many bards that could. Pride surged through me even as Beth fed me dinner. Maybe it wouldn’t be enough to beat Thrig, but it was a chance. A chance was all I needed.

  By the time I was able to consistently use lightning magic, it was time. Crowds flocked underground to Trafford’s hidden arena. Beth and the others gave me one final pep talk before heading to the stands. My stomach turned as I slowly walked to the participant waiting room.

  It was time to see the results of my training, to see if I could do the impossible.

  Zadona was waiting for me outside my room, a worried expression on her face. “Did you get my gift?”

  “Been working through it all week.”

  “And do you think…?” Her voice tapered off. I knew what she was asking.

  “I don’t know, but I’m going to try,” I said, shrugging.

  She held out her hand. “I’ll be rooting for you.”

  I took it and shook it firmly. “Thanks.”

  As she slipped away to join the crowd, I felt dread creep into me. I was all alone. There was no Greenspring to guide me, no Nia to push me beyond my limits. No Beth to keep me going. It was only me. Still, as a performer, I knew that I was never alone. With the crowd’s eyes on me and my mandolin, Kingmaker, at my side, I would give them a performance they would never forget.

  “Trafford, I hope you’re watching.”