‘Good. Now, I want you to focus on the water. Understand it, trust it, make it part of you.’

‘I don’t think I’m ready for this.’

She blurted it out before she could stop herself and Martia’s voice rang out in her head once more: If you cannot summon courage, you are wasting my time.

She flinched, awaiting the queen’s disappointment. Instead, the woman offered her a soft, kind expression.

‘I would be worried if you felt totally OK with all of this, having been away from it for so long.’ The honesty shocked Sapphire. ‘But you were born of this world. The power has always been inside you. You just didn’t know it.’

The words sent a pang through her chest.

They kindled a warmth in her stomach.

For the first time since her arrival, she could tell that Araxia was meant to be a mother, so gentle and kind. So unlike Martia, the woman who had raised her, with her permanent frown.

‘What if I fail?’

‘You most likely will. But then we try again. And again. Until that failure is but a speck of a memory.’

The certainty of failure ignited a fire inside her. She was determined to buck against it. To be something more. Sapphire took one more purposeful step, the water nearly reaching her chin, and battled ever harder to push down her panic. Araxia smiled at her with more pride than anyone else ever had.

‘So, what do I do?’

‘Duck under the water. Hold your breath for as long as you can – and when your lungs begin to burn, trust that you are safe in the water. Rely on your magic to carry you through. Accept it.’

Fear wrapped around Sapphire. Squeezing her. Warning her. Taunting her.

But she took a deep breath and plunged down regardless.

The panic she had been fighting would not be silenced once she opened her eyes. The lake was clear for as far as she could see, and the silence that surrounded her put her even more on edge.

And her body sensed it. Her chest began to burn, urging her upwards. She fought against it, not wanting to fail so miserably on her first try, but a few seconds passed, and she could no longer handle the crushing pressure. She shot to the surface, coughing and gasping.

Anger flooded her senses as she backed away from the queen. She had not only failed but made a scene of it all. How could they believe she was their daughter when she could barely handle being underwater for a matter of seconds?

Mercy, she was not born for this.

The realization made the ache in her chest shift from panic to longing. At least in Witrotean, she had understood who she was. She had known her place. She had not been taunted by the idea of a family. She had no room for hope.

But here … here she …