THE THRONE THAT HEAVEN FEARED

CHAPTER 2: THE FIRST MEAL

I didn't have time to savor the look of pure terror on Rafe’s face. The lightning was screaming inside my veins, a wild, jagged beast trying to claw its way out of my skin. My vision was swimming in shades of electric blue.

"Let go of me! You’re dead! You’re a dead man!" Rafe shrieked, scrambling backward the second my grip loosened. He tripped over his own feet, falling flat on his back in the dirt. The "Golden Boy" of the Valerius family was covered in mud and trembling.

"Look at him!" someone in the crowd gasped. "Rafe’s blow didn't even singe his clothes!"

"How is that possible? That was a Tier 3 Lightning Bolt!"

I ignored them, my teeth clenched so hard I thought they’d shatter. Push it down. Hide it. Kill the light.

"Cassian!" A sharp, cold voice sliced through the murmurs.

The crowd parted like the Red Sea. An old man in charcoal robes strode toward the center of the courtyard. He carried a silver staff topped with a rotating crystal lens.

"The Aura Inspector," I whispered, the words tasting like ozone.

"Inspector Vane!" Rafe scrambled to his feet, pointing a shaking finger at me. "He did something! He used a forbidden artifact! He absorbed my cultivation! Look at him! He’s a freak!"

Vane didn't look at Rafe. He looked at me. The crystal atop his staff began to hum, spinning faster and faster. "Stand still, janitor."

"I haven't done anything, Inspector," I said, my voice vibrating. Every pore in my body felt like it was about to leak sparks.

"Silence," Vane snapped. "The Academy sensors registered a total energy vacuum followed by a localized spike. Only a high-level cultivator or a malfunctioning core could cause that. And you don't have a core."

"Exactly!" Rafe shouted, regaining some of his arrogance. "He’s a void! He shouldn't be standing! Execute him for tampering with the trial!"

"Back off, Young Master Rafe," Vane said without looking away from me. "I will be the judge of what happened here."

Vane stepped into my personal space. The air around him was heavy, pressing down on my shoulders like a mountain. He raised the silver staff, bringing the spinning lens inches from my eyes.

Internal Voice: [STABILIZING ENERGY... 15%... 20%...]

Not fast enough, I thought, my heart hammering a rhythm that felt like thunder.

"You’re sweating, Cassian," Vane remarked. His voice was a low drone. "And your eyes... why is there a blue ring around your pupils?"

"It’s the reflection of the sky, sir," I lied, my muscles twitching.

"Is it?" Vane leaned closer. The lens turned a deep, blood-red. "The lens doesn't lie. It says there is a massive surge of elemental lightning in this exact three-foot radius. Yet, when I look at you, I see a blank slate. A zero."

"Because that’s what I am," I gritted out. "A zero. Rafe hit me, and I fell. That’s the script, isn't it?"

"He didn't fall!" Rafe yelled from the sidelines. "He stood there and swallowed it! I felt my own power being ripped out of my marrow!"

"Is that true, Cassian?" Vane asked, his eyes narrowing. "Did you 'swallow' a Valerius lightning strike?"

"Rafe is delusional," I said. "He probably misfired and is embarrassed in front of his fans. Check the ground. The blast hit the marble, not me."

Vane looked at the shattered stone, then back at me. He wasn't convinced. He moved the lens down to my chest, right over where the Void-Devouring Seal had opened.

"Don't move," Vane commanded. "If I detect a single spark of internal Qi, the turrets will fire. You know the rules for the 'Unawakened' living within these walls."

I stared straight ahead, focusing everything I had on the dark pit in my soul. Suck it in. Don't let a single drop out. The lightning inside me was a roiling ocean, and I was trying to hold it back with a paper dam. My skin felt like it was being scorched from the inside out.

"Strange," Vane muttered. He tapped the lens. "The readings are flat. Impossible."

"Check his pulse!" Rafe barked. "He’s hiding it! He’s using some Cinder family trick!"

Vane reached out with a gloved hand. He pressed two fingers against the side of my neck.

I held my breath. I stopped my lungs from moving. I tried to still my very blood.

The silence in the courtyard was deafening. Hundreds of students leaned forward, waiting for the word that would mean my execution. Elena was watching with her hand over her mouth. Rafe was wearing a sadistic grin, waiting for the "guilty" verdict.

Vane stayed like that for a long time. His fingers were cold. The lens on his staff continued to spin, but the hum was dying down.

"Well?" Rafe demanded. "Is he a criminal or what?"

Vane didn't answer immediately. He pulled his hand away, but he didn't step back. He tilted his head, his nose hovering just inches from my collarbone. He took a deep, slow breath, sniffing the air around my neck.

His eyes snapped wide, turning toward mine with a sudden, terrifying intensity.

"No pulse," Vane whispered, his voice barely audible over the wind. "Your heart isn't beating, boy. By all medical standards, you are a walking corpse."

I didn't blink. "I'm just tired, Inspector."

Vane’s grip tightened on his staff. He leaned in until his lips were at my ear.

"Then explain one thing to me, janitor," he hissed. "If your heart isn't beating and your blood isn't pumping... why do you smell like a localized thunderstorm?"