Chapter Twenty-Six #2
“You and I can share a bed,” Marcella continues, wagging her eyebrows at him.
Gray escapes her embrace and clears his throat again, attempting to hide the embarrassment tinting his skin. He readjusts his tunic. “That’s a generous offer, but I’ll be fine. Josiah made sure there was a room left for me.”
Marcella’s grin flirts with sin. “The offer always stands.”
Just when I think Gray is about to implode from embarrassment, the captains emerge on the mezzanine and save him from his discomfort.
They line up in front of their banners like yesterday, and the room fills with the sort of silence that makes your skin prick.
And I still can’t shake the strangeness of seeing Kiran and Draven up there.
Which is odd considering I’ve only known them a short while.
I suppose it just goes to show how powerful first impressions can be.
“Examinees, we apologize for waking you, but such is the life of a Jurafen. Whether in the dead of night or in the blooming life of morning, you must be prepared to fight.” Nuha’s striking eyes scan the room. “Welcome to your first test.”
People in different colored uniforms shuffle into the arena and wordlessly clamp those sparkling black bracelets on our wrists.
A girl with streaky red and white hair clasps mine, and I recognize her uniform as belonging to the Elefet aggregate.
Draven’s aggregate. I offer her a sheepish smile. She does not return it.
Against my better judgement, I flick my eyes up to the mezzanine—more specifically, to Draven. He watches the girl lock the bracelet on my wrist with an expressionless face.
The girl standing next to Draven—gorgeous, with her bronzed skin and almost perfectly matching bronzed hair—steps forward.
“I am Arden, captain over the Iradine aggregate,” she declares in a raspy voice that somehow manages to feel smooth against the ear.
“Our aether-wielders are going to open portals that will transport each of you to the Whispering Grove so that you may find your essence flowers. Remember, to be considered yours , it must bloom for you. If it doesn’t, and you return with a sleeping flower, you will not receive judgment, and thus fail the first test.” She pauses.
“There is only one rule to these exams: do not cause intentional harm to your fellow examinees. Past that, you may do as you please.”
Finlay steps forward. “Open the portals,” he bellows.
One by one, swirling portals blink into existence. Some are large and swirling like a sea of oil and smoke. Others are smaller, but sparkle like the anthrine now clasped around my wrist. My wandering eyes still when they land on a guy with unruly, brown hair.
Griff stands at attention in front of his portal, dressed in a white and gold uniform. His lip kicks up with a proud sort of smile when he notices my attention.
“Form your lines quickly,” Finlay commands. “And we will see those who succeed by the time the third moon rises.”
People scatter for different portals. Despite my initial desire to go against the grain and head for Griff’s line across the arena, I settle for the aether-wielder who opened his portal close to where Gray, Marcella, and I stand.
He’s a rather large, hairy man who doesn’t seem to smile often.
I catch his name floating in the whispers of those who lined up behind me: Archennon.
Gray, without fully turning, tips his chin over his shoulder and murmurs, “They’ve likely instructed each wielder to alter their portal so that once an examinee steps through, they land in a different part of the grove—scattering everyone for the test. From what Griff said—about aether-wielders having to visit a place physically before they can open a portal—I’d guess they’ve split the grove into multiple sectors and assigned an aether-wielder to each one. ”
“Okay,” I draw out. “So, what do you think we should do? ”
Still staring straight ahead, Gray says, “I have a plan for us to stay together. I know detecting an essence flower will come naturally to you.” He casts a brief glance over his shoulder and gives a gentle smile.
“But not without someone guiding you on exactly what to do—or rather, what to look for.”
He isn’t wrong. Even Draven said as much.
“What do you plan to do?”
I hear the confident edge in his laugh and can picture the faint curve of his lips. “Cast an illusion, of course.”
I blink. “Are we even allowed to do that?” Another thought springs to mind, knitting my brows. “And you hate casting illusions on people. You say it feels exploitative and dishonest.”
“I’ll do it to ensure you survive.” He pauses. “And you heard what Arden said. There are no rules to these exams outside of not harming your fellow examinee.”
I give him a long look—though, he doesn’t see it considering I’m staring at the back of his head.
“Just walk through directly after me. Don’t hesitate, and don’t look uncertain. Go straight through.”
The line moves faster than I expect, and as Marcella—who stands ahead of Gray—reaches the portal’s entrance, my heartbeat quickens.
She winks back at me before slipping through, and suddenly it’s Gray’s turn.
Yet Archennon doesn’t spare him a glance; his muddy, beady eyes remain locked on me—like nobody else is there.
“Well?” he rasps. “What are you waiting for? I haven’t got all day.”
My gaze flicks toward Gray just in time to see him vanish into the swirling onyx and deep silver of Archennon’s portal.
At the same moment, Archennon snaps his focus to the portal, confusion twisting his features when he sees nothing but empty space.
Shaking his head, his eyes sweep upwards at someone before he turns back to me.
“Well?”
I scurry forward, stepping through the portal.
The hush greeting me when I emerge on the other side brims with a choir of voices, beckoning me deeper into the unexpected mist.