Free Powers of the Six by Kristal Shaff Page B

called.
    General Trividar came over the hill with a group dressed in black robes. Green sashes strung across their chests, marking them as the sect of the Healing Rol’dan.
    Alec had been feeling pretty good about his archery skills. But seeing those Healers … Well, that couldn’t mean anything good.
    Captain Faal gave a quick bow to the general before speaking. “Sir, we are about to begin.”
    “Good, Captain. Proceed.”
    Captain Faal motioned to two of his Accuracy Rol’dan, and they took a place on the opposite side of the field, a good twenty paces on either side of the centermost target.
    “As you know,” Captain Faal said, “the Shay of Accuracy gives one perfect aim. Your task for this trial will be to hit with perfect aim as well. You will have only three chances. If you miss, the result could prove quite painful.”
    A boy raised his hand.
    Captain Faal pointed at him. “Yes? Questions?”
    “What do you mean by painful?”
    The captain smiled. “As mentioned before, to bring forth a Shay, one must focus intense emotions into the center where the Shay lies dormant. But shooting targets alone will not bring forth a Shay. Which is why if you miss the target, our archers will return fire.”
    The boy’s mouth dropped open. “They’ll shoot us?”
    The crowd murmured, anxious energy spreading.
    “They may shoot you. Or they may not. As long as you hold still, our Accuracy Rol’dan will avoid a fatal blow. The result of dodging may be an arrow between your eyes”—he motioned to the black robed Healers—“and our Healers will not raise the dead. So far in our history, we’ve never had a death with this portion of the trial.”
    Alec snorted. So far … How reassuring.
    General Trividar stepped forward, false concern plastered on his conceited face. “I’m sure you can all agree that the temporary discomfort is necessary. How else can you discover if you can be an honored Rol’dan?”
    Alec’s stomach lurched with disgust. Honored Rol’dan ?
    The participants calmed slightly, fear still trickling through them.
    “Perhaps a demonstration is in order?” General Trividar suggested. His eyes roved over the group, stopping on Nolan. “I believe our scribe would be more than happy to show us.”
    Nolan’s face paled.
    Captain Faal frowned. “It isn’t really necessary—”
    “I must insist.” The general held out his arm, as if giving Nolan a warm invitation.
    Alec thought Nolan might refuse, but he squared his shoulders and stepped forward, grimacing as he bent to get an arrow. He was in no condition for archery. He nocked it and closed his eyes for several long moments.
    “I didn’t call you to sleep,” General Trividar said.
    Several of the Rol’dan chuckled.
    Nolan opened his eyes, pulled the bowstring, and his lips contorted. He released it, and it landed with a quiet thump into the soil in front of the target.
    “Perfect example. Thank you, Nolan,” the general said.
    Nolan inhaled and straightened his posture, awaiting the return fire. The arrow whistled through the air and thudded into Nolan’s shoulder. He jolted back a step and stifled a cry, but made no movement to remove it. Instead, he leaned over, trembling, his eyes closed.
    Alec clenched his fists, and Taryn clung to his arm. General Trividar hadn’t used Nolan just for example. He wanted to make a fool of him.
    General Trividar strode in front of their shocked and silent group. He made an annoyed gesture to the Healers before he spoke. “As you can see, a missed shot resulted in a shot returned. And as you can also see, he is very much alive.”
    Captain Faal stepped forward. “I should also note that hitting the target does not signify a successful shot. A center shot is the only one accepted. Only a truly accurate shot will pass the trial.”
    “That’s impossible,” Taryn whispered. “None of us can do it.”
    “That’s the idea,” Alec whispered back. “We aren’t meant to pass unless we have