Kess was lost in her Fulminancy. Snaking between the pieces, it became a living, breathing thing—an extension of her will.

  That terrified her.

  But there was something equally thrilling about playing Stormclap. Territories were lost or gained based on her ability to manipulate her own Fulminancy through the pins. It was a beautiful marriage of tactics, control, and mind games.

  Kess lacked the control, but she had the other two aspects of the game in hand. She overreached with her Fulminancy, often abdicating smaller pieces of territory in an effort to bring her main areas under control again, and Reina was brutal and swift with her punishment. Even so, Kess found herself able to make up for her weaknesses with careful movement of her pins, to some extent. What worried her more was how long she’d be able to maintain the game without finding herself on the floor—or worse, with a room full of corpses. As she lost stamina, would she also lose control?

  Reina chattered amiably as they played, unconcerned about Kess’s underlying problem. And Kess, for her part, tried to oblige the woman.

  “This can’t be your first time playing Stormclap,” Reina noted, hovering over a piece.

  “I know my way around a board,” Kess replied. “Though any confidence you see is from the wine. I don’t have the winning record that you do.”

  “Well, I’d rather you partake in alcohol than avoid it,” Reina said. “A man or woman who doesn’t drink is someone who has something to hide.”

  “I can’t imagine anyone at court would have something to hide.”

  Reina paused a moment, then burst out laughing. It was the laughter of a woman who was used to using her voice—nothing like the delicate women who whispered conspiratorially in small circles with one another. Though her Fulminancy tugged insistently at her, Kess took a moment to smile at the strange woman. It was hard to find someone seemingly genuine at court.

  “How did you manage to get saddled with Furion?” Kess asked, hoping to keep the woman talking. Reina smiled in a coy way and moved a pin to block off another of Kess’s territories on the board.

  “Now, now, we haven’t even finished a game, and you’re already asking questions?” She smiled as she said it and glanced back out at the main ballroom behind Kess. “That one I don’t mind answering, however. I lost a bet and the dullard got the good end of it.”

  “What kind of bet?”

  Reina’s eyes sparkled, some sort of savage mirth in them. “The kind you’ll find familiar from your work with rings, I imagine. I have a habit of attending some Fulminant fights. There was one where they dumped some poor Downhill girl in the ring, and I figured it was an easy way to make some money. No one bets against the Fulminant, but the girl had quite the track record in the underground.” She sniffed. “I convinced Furion to bet on the Downhill girl, assuming she would lose in spite of that record, and well, things didn’t quite go as planned.”

  Kess fought not to stiffen as the story unfolded. She searched the woman’s face for something like recognition, but she was lost in her own thoughts, a mild pout on her face as she looked towards Furion. “The girl won?” Kess asked, trying to keep her voice neutral.

  “Not just won. Knocked her out cold. Nearly killed her if the medics weren’t exaggerating.” She frowned, turning her wineglass in her hands. “I still can’t figure out how she did it. She would’ve had to be Fulminant herself to dodge everything her opponent threw at her.” She sighed dramatically. “Another reason Furion shouldn’t have cheaped out and bought the nosebleed seats. You can’t see anything from there.”

  Kess let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Far enough away in an arena that big, and Kess’s features wouldn’t be visible. Reina wouldn’t recognize her.

  “She could have been Fulminant,” Kess suggested casually. She moved a piece, securing off another section of Reina’s territory, which made the woman frown. “Fulminant rings pull from Downhill all the time—especially when Fulminancy shows up in Downhill fights.”

  Kess’s heart thumped erratically in her chest, but Reina, at least, seemed more focused on their game than on Kess’s nervousness.

  “If that was the case, then the docket didn’t mention it,” she said, staring at a pin. “It was specifically advertised as a mismatch—a way to show that even the best Downhill Bloodcrawlers can’t match what we’ve got up here. A political scheme, if you will. Regardless, there aren’t too many Fulminant Downhill anymore. After the current Mariel’s little incident, the Blueblades have been tasked with bringing most of them back Uphill.”

  “To control them, or…?”

  Reina shrugged, eyes distant, no longer focused on the board. “In some cases, yes. Sometimes they probably just kill them. Other times they make a convenient political pawn, or they’re hired as off the books assassins for the wealthy. With Northmont’s new lights, many scholars have been interested in the idea of harnessing Fulminancy for the purpose of science. And then there’s always the matter of empty Seats.” She trailed off, sipping her wine. Overhead, rain drummed on the rooftop and the light tinkling of glasses and voices floated across the space, mixed with the low buzz of Fulminancy in the room.

  Kess’s fingers went cold around her glass, even as sweat trickled down her back from the effort of keeping her Fulminancy in check. Reina continued. “A Seat passes away, or retires, or is born without Fulminancy. Who do you think replaces them?”

  Kess frowned at her glass of wine, wondering if it was making her thick headed. She had never given much thought to the workings of the Council, given that her parents—and her by extension—had tried to stay as far away from them as possible. “An heir further down the line,” she said. That was how it was supposed to work, anyway.

  Reina nodded and gestured at the board. With a start, Kess realized it was her turn—and she’d lost a territory by not paying attention to her Fulminancy. She swore internally, and tried to make up for the mistake with another pin, but Reina countered her immediately.

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  “Sometimes an heir replaces them,” she said, “or they bequeath the title to someone they’re close to. Sometimes the Seat sits empty and someone with the ability to show great skill with Fulminancy can assume the Seat, and it becomes their title to pass on. They were designed to be passed down family lines, each to oversee a district of the city. Over time, unfortunately, they’ve become a political farce, with different factions vying for the power that each Seat promises.”

  “But the ones without Fulminancy who hope to keep the Seat…” Kess trailed off.

  “Those are a special case,” Reina said, smiling. There was no warmth in the smile. “Rumors suggest that you can transfer Fulminancy from one user to another, regardless of what those two people are born with. That power transfer was originally supposed to be used only for emergencies, but it’s become as common as thunder now.”

  Kess’s hand hovered over a piece as she studied Reina’s face more carefully. The idea that Fulminancy could be taken from one individual and given to another was not necessarily novel, but Kess had long assumed it was a bit of lore fanned by lower city citizens tired of being maligned for their powers. “On top of that,” Reina continued, “did you know that Fulminancy can even choose a Seat?”

  She cocked her head at Reina, studying her across the board.

  “Why are you telling me this?”

  “Call it a personal interest,” Reina said, polishing off her wine.

  “But why tell me, of all people?” It didn’t make any sense. Kess’s family could trace their line back to Mariel’s from the beginning. Even if, by some awful series of events, Reina knew who she was, her implication that the Seat had been ill-gotten wouldn’t hold water. Clouds, Kess didn’t even want the Seat.

  “Ah,” Reina said, looking at her empty wineglass with a mock pout. She spread her arms dramatically, taking in the surrounding room. “Because tonight is a fantastic night for ghost stories, don’t you think? And besides, I have a good feeling about you.” She winked at Kess and moved another piece. “Now play. I believe we have a game to finish, and we wouldn’t want to disappoint our audience.”

  Kess realized with a start that a small crowd had gathered politely a small distance away, watching their game. A few of them whispered at each other, gesturing towards the board. Rowan was nowhere to be found.

  Well, there’s no way out of this now, she thought grimly, and moved a piece. One way or another, she’d have to finish her Stormclap game.

  During the conversation, things had gone south for Kess, though it was perhaps still winnable. Controlling her Fulminancy while talking wasn’t one of Kess’s fortes, and Reina had taken over much of Kess’s territory during that time. It was clear from the smile on Reina’s face that she knew it. Still, Kess studied the board, and, playing like she was a fighter backed into a corner, made a series of moves that undid some of that damage. Behind her, a few men in the crowd swore and whispered, and Reina peered at the board, muttering, her smile gone.

  Before, it seemed, this had been sport to Reina. Now, she truly thought about each move, and her Fulminancy pressed against Kess’s, strong, brutal, and insistent. Kess pushed back, and though most of Stormclap was played over the board, their Fulminancy clashed in the air above the wood, a battle of its own.

  It was a matter of pride for Kess. She’d promised to learn Fulminancy, hadn’t she? Game or not, if she couldn’t master Stormclap as her brother had suggested all those months ago, then was she really worthy of learning the rest of her powers?

  Kess didn’t think so.

  Still, as she played, and the board became a back-and-forth contest, Kess began to slip. Her control snapped at her, and her Fulminancy demanded more, as it usually did. It wanted to soar above the board—to attack her opponent in earnest, not the territories which she controlled. And, while Reina’s control was delicate and refined, Kess felt her Fulminancy push back against her own, taunting and demanding.

  This was perhaps why so few people wanted to play Reina. It wasn’t her tactical brilliance—though she was good—but her Fulminancy’s brutal efficiency at controlling the mind game above the board, taking away the mental control needed to play tactically advanced positions in the first place.

  Kess gritted her teeth and fought through it, though on some level she knew that her weakness from a month ago held her back. Her hand shook as she moved another piece, and her back was damp with sweat beneath her gown.

  I have to finish it quickly, she thought. There was a chance Kess could trap Reina and end the game with more territory, if only—

  Kess froze as she made a move. Only after setting the piece down did she realize it was a mistake. Reina’s colors snapped into place on the board, her gray Fulminancy covering nearly as much territory as Kess’s blue. Reina placed her last pin—ending the game, and through the patchwork of Fulminancy, Kess saw—

  “A tie,” Reina breathed, and looked almost as shocked as Kess felt. Conversation erupted suddenly in the room, along with a patter of clapping, and the crowd dispersed to various boards or the ballroom itself, talking excitedly. Kess leaned back, exhausted and relieved, and her Fulminancy fizzled out. Reina did the same, though she didn’t seem as affected. She regarded Kess for a moment, eyes careful, as if trying to figure out something—then she smiled.

  “An excellent match,” she said. “Well played.”

  Kess watched the Stormclap room, where players kept glancing over at their board in awe. “Did we do something particularly impressive?” she finally asked.

  “Few Stormclap players manage both the mental and physical game with such grace,” Reina said, watching the others. “Some control their Fulminancy well, but fail to pay attention to the board itself. Others have a mind for strategy but no control over their Fulminancy. And—of course—some of that comes from what’s available to them growing up. Start with a Stormclap board for Duds and you’ll develop the strategic mind, but often leave your Fulminancy flying in the wind.”

  “We had one at home growing up,” Kess said, distracted. She felt wrung out.

  “And yet you play both sides with elegance,” Reina said, smiling again. “I suppose our bet is off, though, since no one won.”

  Kess regarded Reina for a moment, and, a bit like having fought an opponent in the ring, Kess understood the woman to a certain degree. Certainly sharing some information with her felt fair, given that they’d both played their hearts out over the Stormclap board.

  “I’m looking for a missing family member,” she said quietly, still watching the room.

  Reina simply snorted, following her gaze. “Well, that could be anyone in the city at this rate.”

  “I thought that was only happening Downhill?” Kess asked, frowning.

  “Well, as you trotted over to the Stormclap room the moment you arrived tonight, I don’t expect you to have noticed, but the current talk Uphill is the same thing. Missing Fulminant, even from wealthy houses.” Her eyes fell on Kess’s family sash—which, of course, was missing. Master Fulminancers were allowed to ditch their family sashes for their Fulminant one, though Reina wore both the red and white of her family’s colors alongside her blue and red sash.

  “There’s a host of explanations for it, of course, most of them the same as the Downhill,” she continued. “Mariel calling her followers home is the most superstitious of the lot I’ve heard, though there are rumors of war as well—over what, exactly, I can’t tell.” She sighed, losing some of her poise. “Men will figure out anything to fight over, it seems. In any case, your Stormclap board craftsman is one of those missing Fulminancers—Lord Westhill. His family is quite upset about it. If I were you, I’d speak to them at the next gala, seeing as they’re hosting it.”

  Reina stood up then and gave the Stormclap board and Kess one final sweep of the eyes. “Until next time, Lady Kess. I hope we’ll play again.” She wove through a crowd of Stormclap players and melted into the crowd.

  Also, if we hit Rising Stars, I will release extra chapters as a celebration!

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