Free Daughter of Moth (The Moth Saga, Book 4) by Daniel Arenson Page A

this trial. You—"
    A sharp clearing of the throat
interrupted her. Professor Yovan came shuffling forward, nearly
tripping over his beard.
    "Is there a problem, Madori
Greenmoat and Lari Serin?" he said, brow furrowing.
    Lari blinked innocently, a sweet
smile on her lips. "Not at all, Professor. I was simply telling
Madori what a pleasure it was to meet one with such . . . famous
parents." She gave Madori a little wink. "I see she's
inherited much from them."
    The professor seemed to miss the
implied scorn. He tossed his white beard across his shoulder. "Very
well then. But please, girls, you can be friends later. Now the trial
is about to begin." He hopped back toward his podium and raised
his hands. "Applicants! The Trial of Will begins. Please, every
pair grab your iron wishbone, each applicant holding one side."
    Madori lifted the wishbone,
holding one side. The iron was rough and cold in her palm. Lari
grabbed the other side, then suddenly yanked the wishbone toward her,
tugging Madori forward in her seat, forcing her to lean across the
table. Madori found herself only inches away from Lari; the two's
noses nearly touched.
    "You're going home soon,
half-breed," Lari said, all the sweetness gone from her voice.
There was nothing but malice in her eyes now.
    Madori sneered, clutching the
wishbone. "Tell me, my lady, when you inform your father you've
failed the trials, will you cry?"
    "Next time I see my
father," Lari said, "I'll tell him how I made a little
mongrel child burst into tears. I think he'll enjoy that story."
    Professor Yovan was still
speaking from the podium. "Four hundred of you are holding onto
two hundred wishbones. You may not rise from your seat. You may not
kick, punch, bite, or do anything but sit neatly, holding the iron.
Whoever drops his or her wishbone first shall return home. Whoever
remains holding the wishbone . . . will become a student at Teel
University."
    Madori blinked. Was that it?
That was all she had to do? Hold onto the wishbone? She tilted her
head. That seemed too easy. Were there no puzzles here, no questions,
no challenges at all?
    "Get ready to scream,
little one." Lari smiled wickedly. She leaned forward in her
seat, her fist tight around her side of the wishbone. "I'll
enjoy hearing it."
    "I bet you'll scream when
you fail," Madori said. "I bet—"
    She bit down on her words,
frowning. The wishbone was tingling in her hand—a strange, tickling
heat like a thousand tiny jabs.
    Lari gave a mocking pout.
"What's wrong, mongrel? Does your widdle hand huwt?"
    Her hand did hurt. The tingling intensified, becoming a prickly heat. Madori ached
to drop the wishbone but only gritted her teeth and tightened her
grip. When she looked around the chamber, she saw other applicants
wince, curse, and one girl even yelped.
    "My hand feels fine,"
Madori said, returning her eyes to Lari. "You look a little
pale, though."
    Madori was lying; her hand did
not feel fine, not at all. It was as far from fine as wine from
poison. The pain intensified, almost intolerable, and Madori took
deep, ragged breaths. She tightened her grip. The iron began to
crackle, and little sparks like lightning raced across it.
    At the table beside Madori, a
boy yelped and dropped his half of the wishbone. His opponent whooped
in triumph, the wishbone glowing in his hand. He raised the metal
instrument like a trophy. At another table, a girl burst into the
tears and dropped her wishbone; her opponent laughed, her admittance
to Teel won.
    Madori returned her eyes to Lari
and glared. Lari stared back, a single bead of sweat upon her brow,
the only sign of any pain she might be feeling. Madori's hand was
trembling now around the wishbone. The pain blazed, racing up her arm
to her shoulder. Her very teeth buzzed and shook in her jaw. Years
ago, Madori had read a book about the charred victim of a lightning
strike; she imagined that this felt similar. Her hair crackled, her
hackles rose, and goosebumps appeared upon her