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particularly regretful. Multiple attempts on my life have taken a toll on my
manners.
“The Trials are not meant to be easy, Elias. That is why they are called the
Trials.”
“I hadn’t noticed.” I speed up, hoping Cain will piss off. He doesn’t.
“I bring you a message,” he says. “The next Trial will take place in seven
days.”
At least we get some warning this time. “What’s it going to be?” I ask.
“Public flogging? A night locked in a trunk with a hundred vipers?”
“Combat against a formidable foe,” Cain says. “Nothing you can’t handle.”
“What foe? What’s the catch?” No way the Augur will tell me what I’m up
against without leaving something essential out. It’s going to be a sea of wraiths
we’re fighting. Or jinn. Or some other beastie they’ve woken from the darkness.
“We haven’t woken anything from the darkness that wasn’t already awake,”
Cain says.
204
I bite back a response. If he picks my mind again, I swear, I’ll shove this
blade through him, Augur or not.
“It wouldn’t do any good, Elias.” He smiles, almost sadly, then nods to the
field, where Hel is training. “I ask that you pass the message along to Aspirant
Aquilla.”
“As Aquilla isn’t speaking with me, that might be a bit difficult.”
“I’m sure you’ll find a way.”
He drifts off, leaving me more ill-tempered than before.
When Hel and I argue, we usually patch things up in a few hours—a day at
most. Three days is a record for us. Worse, I’ve never seen her lose her temper
the way she did three nights ago. Even in battle, she is always cool, controlled.
But she’s been different the past few weeks. I’ve known it, though like a fool
I’ve tried not to see it. But I can’t ignore her behavior anymore. It has to do with
that spark between us, that attraction. Either we crush it or we do something
about it. And I’m thinking that while the latter might be more enjoyable, it will
create complications neither of us needs.
When did Helene change? She has always been in control of every emotion,
every desire. She’s never shown interest in any of her comrades, and, other than
Leander, none of us is stupid enough to try to start anything with her.
So what happened between us that changed things? I think back to the first
time I noticed her acting strange: the morning she found me in the catacombs.
I’d tried to distract her by leering. I’d done it without thinking, hoping to keep
her from finding my pack. I figured she’d just think it was me being male.
Is that what did it? That one look? Has she been acting so strangely because
she thinks I want her, and so she feels like she has to want me back?
If that’s the case, then I need to clear things up with her straightaway. I’ll tell
her that it was a fluke. That I didn’t mean anything by it.
Will she accept my apology?
Only if you grovel enough.
Fine. It will be worth it. If I want my freedom, I
have
to
win the next Trial. In
the first two, Hel and I depended on each other for survival. The third will
probably be the same. I need her on my side.
I find Hel on the combat field sparring with Tristas while a Combat Centurion
looks on. The boys and I tease Tristas for constantly mooning over his fiancée,
but he’s one of the finest swordsmen at Blackcliff, clever and cat-swift. He waits
for Helene to slip up, taking note of the aggression in her strokes. But her
defense is as impenetrable as the walls of Kauf. Minutes after I arrive at the
field, she’s thrown off Tristas’s attack and jabbed his heart.
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“Greetings, oh holy Aspirant,” Tristas calls out when he sees me. At Helene’s
stiffening shoulders, he glances between us and makes a quick departure. Along
with Faris and Dex, Tristas has tried repeatedly to figure out what went wrong
between Helene and me on the night of the party—which neither of us attended.
But Hel’s been as silent as I have, and they’ve given up, instead grunting to one
another pointedly when she and I beat each other down on the battlefield.
“Aquilla,” I call to her as she sheathes her scims. “I need to talk to you.”
Silence.
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