Where was she? Last she remembered, she had been in bed. But now she stood on black dirt, surrounded by flames. They traveled along straight lines, forming corners with perfect right angles. This was no wildfire; it was someone’s creation. There was an opening at one end, like a hallway she was meant to enter. Or was she? She shook sweat from her dampened hair. The heat was a living thing, palpable. As panic bubbled up within her, she forced it back down. She had the Gift—she could invoke the mother tongue and control fire, even a fire as large and powerful as this one. There was no reason to be frightened. Could this be some kind of Coalition trial she hadn’t been told about? Her instructors had said she was unusually gifted at handling fire; perhaps this had something to do with that. Forcing herself to remain calm, she turned in a circle to see if there was more than one opening in the room of fire. No, there was only the one, a flaming hallway that beckoned. Perhaps it was a trick, and she was not to enter it.
