My stomach turned over at the cold, unfeeling way Uzadaan judged the male. He seemed to sense my shock. “When your life is on the line, it’s best to be realistic. Coating the truth in sugar won’t save your life.”

“I know,” I muttered, kicking myself. Vagach viewed the world through a similar lens, and he would have understood immediately. Honestly, how Uzadaan and Dromak hadn’t figured out I wasn’t who I said I was simply by little mistakes like these was beyond my comprehension. It was ironic that I’d been given such a unique power and had none of the proper temperament to use it. I hated pretending to be someone I wasn’t.

The next male took his place across from Dromak this time, and I watched with bated breath as he called on his magic. At first, nothing happened. The male didn’t so much as flinch as he stared Dromak down. So subtle I almost didn’t notice, the air around him shifted, changed, glimmered. Squinting, I tried to discern what was happening.

Then, Dromak shrieked, falling to his knees. I started forward, but Uzadaan caught my arm and tugged me back to his side. Without even looking at me, he scratched a four beside the name of a blood-eyed male. Nightmares, his magic read. That was when I understood the screaming and shimmering air. The male released Dromak from his terror, and the Vezető sucked in a sharp breath before lurching to his feet.

“Okay, who is next?” he shouted, clearly trying to brush off his experience.

Another male stepped forward, sporting cardinal eyes. His demonstration was lackluster as he was barely able to draw on anything other than shadows. Uzadaan marked him as a one, followed by the next three males, all with cardinal and crimson eyes. A cherry-eyed male turned himself invisible using shadow alone, and for that, along with how he finally reappeared after a handful more males had their turn, Uzadaan gave him a four.

“Why wasn’t he a five? That was impressive,” I asked.

Uzadaan shrugged. “Fives are usually reserved for extremely unique and powerful magic wielders, like Binders, Callers, and Speakers. Invisibility is more common than you would think, along with Suppressors and those who can create nightmares and chaos. Or those like Dromak who are Destructors.”

“The Halálhívó is a Caller, right?” I asked.

Uzadaan nodded. “And Kral Xannirin is a Speaker, since he can communicate with spirits in other worlds.”

My brows shot up my forehead. I had no idea that was the Kral’s power, or that it was even possible to speak to souls that had passed on. Was his magic common knowledge? Because if it was, I couldn’t fathom how he didn’t have a line of people at the doors to Gyor Palace begging for one final opportunity to speak with loved ones who had died.

“What’s your power, Vagach?” Uzadaan asked, tearing me from my spiraling thoughts.

Ice flooded my veins. What did I say? Did I tell him I was a Corrupter because that was what Vagach was? What if he asked for a demonstration? I couldn’t pull it off. I opened my mouth to say something, but no words would come out.

“Uzadaan!” Izgath shouted, stealing the ruby-eyed male’s attention. “That was a four.”

“I know,” he called back.

Izgath jogged toward us. “You weren’t paying attention.”

“Yes, I was,” Uzadaan argued, gesturing to his nearly-full parchment. Indeed, only a few names remained unrated.

Izgath shrugged after he looked it over. “Vagach, why don’t you be the demonstration partner now. I’ll take your place as Uzadaan’s assistant.”

I nodded, relief crashing through me. The way Izgath caught my eye told me I needed to pull myself together. Even across the distance that had separated us, he’d seen my distress. And if he could see it, so could everyone else. So I dragged in a breath, running a hand over my short hair, and pushed off the wagon, striding toward the line of males.

Steeling my spine, I faced off against the next one. Dromak stood off to one side, arms crossed, while he studied the recruit. The carmine-eyed male unsheathed a knife from his waist and then strode toward me before dropping to one knee in front of me, “Kormánzó Vagach, may I please have your hand? I have blood magic, and I need yours to demonstrate my power.”

“Um, yes, okay,” I said, offering it to him. A mix of curiosity and apprehension peaked inside me as his blade drifted closer to my palm. In a gentle motion, he drew a line of blood there, then licked it. Surprise had me jerking back in horror.

“Did you just lick me?” I snapped.

“Apologizes, Kormánzó, but that is how my magic works. I can track you using your blood. If you wouldn’t mind finding a place within the camp to hide, I can demonstrate it to you and the other Vezető,” he said, pushing to his feet.

“Alright then. How far do you need me to go?” I questioned, blinking rapidly as I tried to process what the fuck was happening.

“Not far. I will wait one minute before following,” he replied, tucking his hands behind his lower back and widening his legs.

Nodding, I took off at a jog, mostly to put space between me and the male who licked my palm. Dipping between two wagons, I ticked the seconds off on my fingers while I scanned for a good spot to conceal myself. After finding nothing but tents, I decided to double back to one of the wagons that held sacks of potatoes and barrels of apples. It was the perfect place to hide.

With only fifteen seconds remaining, I clambered into it, half-weaving, half-stumbling over everything packed into it and hoping I wasn’t making too much of a commotion.

When the sixty second mark passed, I stilled, close to the front of the wagon, where a small slit barely large enough for me in my Assyria form to slide through separated the driver from the goods inside. My heart thundered in my chest as I waited to be discovered. After less than a minute, a sound from the front of the wagon drew my attention, and a pair of carmine eyes filled the small slot.

“Found him,” the male undergoing testing called out, straightening.

A familiar laugh filtered through the wood. “You get a three for that one since Vagach was making such a disturbance.”

I rolled my eyes and clambered out of the wagon, coming face to face with Dromak sporting a shit-eating grin. “I didn’t have a lot of time, nor were there many places to challenge our soldier’s magic,” I replied, dropping to the ground with a thud.

“Aye, I’m certain that was the issue,” Dromak snorted, turning on his heel and leading us back to the group of males being assessed. Those who had been exercising walked in the opposite direction, heading to bathe in a nearby stream and prepare dinner. “Now let’s finish up these last two so I can eat, I’m fucking hungry.”

“When are you not?” I replied, amusement filling my tone.

“Never. Go stand over there and call on your shadows so that one can suppress your magic.” Dromak pointed to the cherry-eyed male waiting for us.

Fuck.

My heart stopped. I hadn’t even considered the possibility of a Suppressor being in the mix, and with the power he surely wielded, who knew how far his range was? Even if I stood where Izgath and Uzadaan did, he might have the power to reach me and rip my magic form straight off me, leaving me very, very Assyria in a field filled with males.

This is it. This is my end.

Ice shattered through my veins as I managed one step forward, then another. Every nerve in my body screamed at me to run, to flee, to save myself. Instead, I walked to my execution. Staying might offer me the slightest chance of living, whereas running would only prove to the others I had something to hide. A full body tremble wanted to rip free, along with a panicked scream, and I suppressed both of them, a silent, compulsive prayer slipping between my racing thoughts to the Fates to save me.