Sloane
“Don’t lose heart if it takes a few hours to bond,” Kaori says, holding his hands behind his back as he addresses every first-year left standing after Gauntlet and Presentation.
I tune him out as he starts in on the finer points of patience.
Can’t lie. I thought the cliffside obstacle course was going to take me out.
Then again, I was pretty sure I’d end up at the bottom of the ravine at Parapet, too.
Oh, and I definitely saw my life flash before my eyes during a few challenges.
Right. And then there was Presentation, where I also prepared for my imminent demise only to walk off the field unscathed.
Basically, I’ve been awaiting my death for the last three months, ever since Bodhi’s letter arrived with Garrick, telling me that my older brother had been killed.
He wrote it carefully, knowing any mail between the marked ones is read and sometimes redacted, but I’d read through the lines.
I know what happened to him, that Violet Sorrengail and Dain Aetos got him killed.
If my perfect, caring, incredible older brother—the best in his year—couldn’t even make it through twelve months in this place, then what chance do I possibly have? I’m so fucking over it, and I’m done pretending I want any part of this.
The riot flew overhead a few minutes ago, which means the forest is now full of opportunities to meet Malek. If the price for refusing to bond is incineration, then so be it.
I will not be made into an instrument of death.
“And remember to follow your instincts,” Kaori continues.
“Unless your instincts lead you to a really pissed-off red,” Baylor mutters from beside me, a playful grin lifting his rich-brown cheeks.
Farther right, a corner of Aaric’s mouth rises in the only display of emotion he’s had today. It’s as if he’s the one who feels like he’s destined to die here with how tense he’s been since breakfast.
Visia rocks side to side on my left. Clearly her nerves haven’t settled.
Can’t blame her. If a dragon scorched a path up my hairline last year and left me for dead, I wouldn’t exactly be chomping at the bit to get back into the forest.
“You’ll be all right,” Avalynn promises, wrapping her arm around Visia and resting her bright red curls on her shoulder.
Maybe she won’t. Maybe we’ll both die today. That’s what I want to say. Instead, I offer a reassuring smile and nod.
A third-year out of Second Wing jogs up to Kaori, then whispers something in his ear before she retreats back into the woods.
“Right.” Kaori clears his throat. “Looks like Molvic has been spotted in the forest.”
A murmur goes through the cadets, and everyone around me perks up, so I do, too, feigning interest. It’s a lot easier to simulate feelings than it is to explain to everyone why you don’t actually have them anymore.
Well…I still have one. Rage is my constant, nagging companion. In that regard, maybe it should interest me that a vicious Blue Clubtail has entered the forest. Perhaps our temperaments would match. Except for the pesky little fact that I don’t want to bond.
Definitely keeping that morsel of truth to myself.
“He isn’t on this year’s list,” someone from Third Wing calls out.
“He isn’t,” Kaori responds, then sighs. “He never is. He just likes to wander about in the woods and get a look at you before inevitably returning to the Vale. Give him space and you’ll be fine.”
“A blue would be badass,” Lynx says, rubbing his hands together.
“Sure, if you want to end up carbonized.” Baylor shakes his head.
“You don’t want that,” Visia whispers. “Believe me.”
Aaric’s jaw ticks, but he stays silent, and Mischa continues to bite her nails to the quick behind him.
Kaori dismisses us, and we break apart, some staying to wish their squadmates well while others sprint headlong into the forest.
“Be careful.” I hug Visia tightly.
“What if it goes like last year?” she asks in a whisper.
“It won’t.” I pull back and offer her a smile, making sure it reaches my eyes. I don’t want my year-mate’s last memory of me to be anything but supportive.
They all deserve the best.
“Look at Henrick,” Avalynn says, hooking her arm around Visia’s shoulder. The sun brings out the freckles across her nose. “He bonded on his repeat year, and you will, too.”
“Okay, Second Squad,” Baylor says, looking all of us in the eye. “Be smart. No one dies, got it? We hold last year’s title of the Iron Squad, and we’re not going to let Rhiannon down by losing it. It’s ours again this year.”
Yes, we should all rejoice if we’re the squad who makes it past Threshing with the least amount of casualties. Because that’s normal. Fuck, I hate it here.
Everyone agrees, and I give my best smile and nod to date. Damn, I’m getting good at faking it. We split off into the woods, and I find myself taking a parallel path to Aaric.
We keep a good fifteen feet between us as we head south, navigating the gigantic trees. This place has trees planted from every province in Navarre, and it would be spectacularly beautiful if it wasn’t fertilized with the dust of dead cadets.
As death walks go, it’s peaceful to hike near Aaric.
He’s not one to babble like Avalynn or fill the quiet with chatter because he’s uncomfortable with silence like Lynx.
He tends to keep to himself and only speaks when something needs to be said.
I have no doubt he’ll bond today. He’s one of the best in our year, undefeated on the mat, even after someone broke his wrist last month.
He has the kind of determination and purpose I admire, even envy.
But I desperately need him to go away so I can get down to the business of dying already.
“There she is.”
My hand flies to my heart as Imogen jumps from a tree ten feet ahead of me.
“Trying to kill me from a heart attack?” I take a deep breath to steady my pulse and drop my hand.
“Feeling dramatic, are we?” She tucks her pink hair behind her ear and strides my way. “Because there are way scarier things trying to kill you out here.” She glances toward Aaric. “Graycastle.”
“Cardulo.” Aaric nods, then glances between us, clearly picking up on Imogen’s leave-us-alone energy.
“I’m headed off.” He starts to walk away, then turns back toward us.
“No dying,” he says, looking directly at me as if he can see straight past the layer of bullshit I slather myself in for everyone else. “No. Dying,” he repeats.
One of his best attributes is also one of the most annoying. He’s observant as hell.
“Yeah. All right.” I give him a wave, and he lingers another heartbeat before striding off into the trees.
“What the fuck was that about?” Imogen’s green eyes narrow on me.
“We want to keep the Iron Squad title.” I shrug.
“Right.” She quirks an eyebrow. “Are you fucking him?”
My mouth opens, then shuts, then opens again. “I’m sorry?” I manage to sputter.
“I don’t personally care.” She watches him disappear to the west. “Just curious, and I’m working on my friendship skills. You first-years are always a messy lot until you get your shit figured out.”
I fold my arms. “And you have your shit figured out? Is there some magic button where you hit your third year and suddenly know everything?”
Out of everyone in the quadrant, she might be the one person who can understand the depth of my rage, the way it eats away at everything that could potentially bloom into something positive.
She’s definitely the only marked one I feel safe unleashing that rage on, because I know she won’t run off and tattle to Riorson that I’m unstable and put yet another burden on his shoulders.
But I can’t be entirely honest with her, either.
I can’t be entirely honest with anyone.
“Point made.” A ghost of a smile crosses her face.
“The thing about this place—this age—is that right when you think you’ve got an understanding of yourself and the people around you, everything shifts and you have to rise to a new set of challenges.
We are perpetually works in progress, Little Mairi. ”
“Nice pep talk.” I give her a thumbs-up and walk past her.
“Gods, you’re a pain.” She snorts and catches up with me easily. “Are you really trying to walk away from me?”
“This isn’t a weeknight, Imogen.” I glance sideways at her.
“I’m not stuck training with you in the gym so I can earn one of the letters my brother left for me.
Letters you know are rightfully mine.” Anger simmers in my stomach.
Doling them out once a week is a cruelty I can’t accept.
Reading his letters are the only times I feel like he’s still here, like I could reach out and touch him if I tried hard enough.
“I can’t believe you’re letting her use them as bait—”
“She’s using them as a bribe,” Imogen corrects me. “And Sorrengail—while an acquired taste—has your best interests at heart. Would you actually show up to train if she hadn’t dangled those letters above your pretty little blond head like a carrot?”
I grit my teeth.
“Exactly. But now you show up. You train. You might actually survive challenges thanks to Violet forcing you into the gym.”
“Don’t expect me to thank her.” Fuck that.
“Oh, definitely not.” Her voice drips with sarcasm as we step over a thick tree root. “After all, she only risked the anger of leadership and, oh, a god to save those letters for you. Did you ever think about that?”
My steps slow and my brows pucker because I really hadn’t.
“Thought not.” She sighs. “That girl nearly died, and the first thing she did when she got back to the quadrant wasn’t to tell her friends she was alive, it was to break into your brother’s room to save those letters we all know should be rightfully burned in sacrifice to Malek.
Her first and foremost thought was for you. ”
“Did you trek all the way out here to continue your valiant defense of Violet Sorrengail?” My tone loses a little of its acid.
“No.” Imogen shakes her head. “I came out to tell you that you’re looking for a female Red Daggertail named Thoirt.”