For a few seconds, nobody moved.

  The target was still there.

  Standing.

  Whole.

  But its center was no longer normal.

  The painted circle had turned black. Not just a little darker. Truly black. As if something had eaten the color from the inside.

  I looked at my hand.

  It was trembling slightly.

  No burn.

  No new cut.

  Nothing visible.

  And yet I knew exactly what had come out of it.

  My breathing was still bad.

  Short.

  Broken.

  My chest still felt tight.

  My right hand was heavy, almost numb.

  And my legs were not steady enough for me to want to take one step too many.

  "Vael..." Eira said quietly.

  I lifted my eyes to her.

  She had backed all the way to the wall.

  Not far.

  But far enough for me to see it.

  Elora still had not moved.

  She was looking at the target.

  Then my hand.

  Then my face.

  "Say something," I said.

  My voice came out sharper than I wanted.

  Elora answered without taking her eyes off me.

  "I'm mostly trying to understand what I just saw."

  "Me too," Eira whispered.

  I looked at the target again.

  It was real.

  Black at the center.

  There was nothing left to deny.

  I took a step.

  My legs almost gave way at once.

  Elora caught my forearm before I lost my balance.

  "Sit down."

  "I'm fine."

  "No."

  I wanted to answer.

  Then I felt the weight in my chest rise just enough to cut the reply off.

  I sat back down on the stone.

  Eira took one step closer.

  "Did it hurt?"

  I lowered my eyes.

  I saw my hand stretched out again.

  The breath.

  The heaviness.

  The black flame.

  Then the center of the target dying in front of me.

  "Not pain," I said.

  I took a second.

  "Just... like something rose in my chest, went through my arm, then left me empty all at once."

  Elora gave a slight nod.

  "The air changed too."

  I lifted my eyes to her.

  "You felt it?"

  "Yes."

  Eira curled her fingers a little.

  "Me too. It got harder to breathe."

  The silence came back.

  Heavier than before.

  Because we were finally talking about what had happened as something real.

  Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  Not as an accident.

  Not as a mistake.

  As a fact.

  Eira was the first to say what I did not want to hear.

  "We have to tell Mother."

  I turned toward her at once.

  "No."

  "Why not?"

  "Because black fire just came out of my hand in front of both of you. Solis flame is supposed to be white. That's why."

  Eira frowned.

  "Exactly."

  I shook my head.

  "No. Exactly not."

  Elora stayed calm.

  "If we tell her," I said, "it doesn't stay between us. Mother will know. Then Father. Then others. And after that, I control nothing."

  Eira opened her mouth.

  "But you already control nothing."

  The line landed cleanly.

  Without cruelty.

  That made it worse.

  I looked away.

  At the wall.

  At the target.

  Anywhere but at them.

  "I know," I said at last.

  Elora walked toward the target, but without touching the black center. She picked up an old piece of wood near the wall and pressed it lightly against the burned part.

  When she rubbed the edge very slightly, fine black dust fell.

  Not much.

  Just enough.

  She looked down at the ground.

  Then back at me.

  "This isn't normal fire."

  "Thanks," I said. "I noticed."

  "I'm not talking about the color."

  I said nothing.

  She looked at the target again.

  "The wood didn't just heat up. It changed."

  That, I understood too.

  Kian's white fire had heated the center.

  What came out of me had blackened it.

  As if it had emptied something out of it.

  Eira looked back toward the corridor.

  "If someone comes by, they'll see it."

  This time, I agreed.

  A black center in the middle of an old white target would not go unnoticed.

  Elora took a short breath.

  "Fine. We do this simply."

  "What?" I asked.

  "We hide it first. We decide after."

  That was the first useful thing anyone had said in the last minute.

  I nodded.

  "How?"

  She looked at the old stands, then at the other two clean targets.

  "You, get up slowly. Eira, watch the corridor."

  Eira straightened at once.

  "Seriously."

  "Yes," Elora said. "Seriously."

  I got up more slowly this time.

  My legs were still weak.

  My chest too.

  But enough to move.

  The blackened target was fixed to a wooden stand with two simple hooks. Elora showed me where to hold it.

  "Not in the middle," she said. "At the edges."

  I did what she said.

  The wood was cold.

  Normal.

  Or at least it didn't burn me.

  We took the target down together. Elora turned it around and put the back side facing out.

  The clean side was ugly, worn, and had no painted circle.

  But at least it didn't scream that a problem had just appeared in the middle of the palace.

  Then Elora pushed the small black dust on the floor toward the edge of the wall with her foot.

  From far away, it would barely show.

  Eira came back to us.

  "No one."

  Elora let out a quiet breath.

  "Good."

  I looked at the turned target.

  Then at my hand again.

  "That doesn't solve anything," I said.

  "I know," Elora answered.

  "It just hides the problem."

  "For now, yes."

  Eira lowered her eyes for a second, then looked at me again.

  "I still think we should tell Mother."

  I closed my eyes for a moment.

  Not long.

  Just enough to hold the pressure in my chest together.

  When I opened them again, both of them were watching me.

  Even Elora.

  "I don't want to," I said.

  Eira frowned.

  "Because you're scared?"

  I took a second too long to answer.

  Then I told the truth.

  "Yes."

  Nobody spoke.

  So I went on.

  "I'm not scared of the target. I'm not scared of you. I'm scared of what that was. I'm scared because it came out of me, and I don't even know how I did it."

  My voice stayed low.

  Steady.

  But I could still feel my fingers shaking.

  "And I'm even more scared of having to do it again."

  Eira lowered her eyes a little.

  Elora stayed still.

  Then she asked,

  "When it came out... did it feel like you were controlling it?"

  I barely had to think.

  "No."

  The word came out fast.

  Clean.

  "It just felt like I was holding on long enough for it to stop."

  This time, even Elora did not answer right away.

  Eira spoke again, more softly.

  "But Mother protects you."

  It was direct.

  Simple.

  And much harder to push away than the rest.

  I looked at my hand.

  Then Eira.

  Then Elora.

  "Maybe," I said.

  Eira shook her head.

  "'Maybe' isn't an answer."

  "Yes, it is when I don't have a better one."

  She didn't like that.

  I could see it.

  Elora finally cut in.

  "Fine. We don't say anything right away."

  Eira turned toward her.

  "Elora—"

  "I said right away."

  Eira went quiet.

  Elora continued.

  "We keep this between us today. We watch if it happens again. And if it does, we stop pretending it can stay small."

  I looked at her for a second.

  It was the best answer we had.

  I hated that too.

  Because it meant there might be a next time.

  I nodded.

  "Fine."

  Eira took longer.

  Then she finally said,

  "Fine."

  I knew her well enough to understand she was only half agreeing.

  The other half would probably spend the rest of the day fighting with her conscience.

  She stayed quiet for one more second.

  Then she stepped toward me and slowly raised her hand.

  Her little finger stayed stretched out between us.

  I looked down.

  "What?" I asked.

  Her voice was smaller than before.

  "A promise."

  I didn't answer right away.

  Eira lifted her eyes to me.

  There was still fear in them.

  Not fear of me.

  Fear of losing me to something she did not understand.

  "So that way," she said, "you're not allowed to leave us outside after this."

  For one second, my chest tightened in a different way.

  Not because of the power.

  Not because of my breathing.

  Just because of her.

  Elora watched us without saying anything.

  For once, she didn't cut through the moment.

  I finally held out my hand.

  My fingers were still heavy, still a little numb, but I managed to hook my little finger around hers anyway.

  Eira held on at once.

  Strong for someone that small.

  "We keep this between us," she whispered. "But if it happens again, you tell us."

  I looked at her.

  Then I nodded.

  "Okay."

  She didn't let go right away.

  As if she wanted to make sure the promise would hold better than everything else.

  Elora picked up her book.

  I took two steps toward the end of the passage.

  Then Eira caught my sleeve.

  I turned toward her.

  She was still looking at my hand.

  Not my eyes.

  My hand.

  "I want to ask you something," she said.

  "What?"

  She hesitated.

  That was rare for her.

  Then she finally looked up at me.

  "When it came out... your black fire..."

  I didn't answer.

  She kept going anyway.

  "I was scared for you."

  I stayed still.

  Her gaze did not move.

  "But I was also scared of what was around you."

  That line hit harder than I expected.

  Because it came from her.

  Because she wasn't trying to hurt me.

  Because she was only saying what she had felt.

  Elora said nothing.

  For once, she didn't interrupt.

  I looked at Eira for another second.

  Then I said, more quietly,

  "So was I."

  Nobody added anything.

  We left the narrow passage together.

  The palace had gone back to its normal noise. Voices farther away. Footsteps in the galleries. Cloth brushing against stone. Everything carried on as if nothing had changed.

  But I could still feel my chest.

  Not a sharp pain.

  More like pressure.

  As if something there still hadn't settled back into place.

  And my right hand was still heavier than the other.

  When we reached the end of the corridor, a small white-flame lamp was hanging on the wall just before the main arch.

  I passed under it.

  The flame dropped at once.

  Not out.

  Just smaller.

  Then it returned to its normal size.

  I stopped dead.

  Elora had seen it.

  Eira too.

  None of the three of us said a word.

  We started walking again.

  If a white-flame lamp could weaken when I passed beneath it, then this would not stay hidden for long.

  The secret was no longer only between us. The palace had started answering too.