Chapter 22 Skylar #2

“Of course I care,” Astrid says. “It’s the whole reason I want to win the duel—to stop the suffering in my queendom. It’s the whole reason I’m here.” She gestures around the room.

“Yeah,” Skylar says, “and to save your own life, I’ll bet.” She bends to open the third and final drawer—though it doesn’t immediately open.

She feels a spike of excitement and glances up at Astrid. “Help a girl out, would you?”

Astrid murmurs a spell, and the drawer clicks open. Their heads are side by side as they both bend to look. Skylar pulls out a folder, flicks it open. A bound book with countless names, listed in alphabetical order.

Celeste Amberfall—Metallurgist—Grade Two—Eastern Camp

Rachel Ashenvale—Nullifier—Grade One—Southern Camp

Valrick Briarhelm—Sensor—Grade Two—Champion

“What is this?” Astrid whispers.

Something cold settles in Skylar as she stares at it. “I think… I think it’s the register.”

“The register?”

“Yeah. All Blooded are supposed to be on it.” But her heart is beating fast. Because this isn’t just a list of Blooded, is it? It’s a list of where they have been put. Eastern Camp, Southern Camp.

“What do they mean by ‘Champion’?” Astrid asks, pointing at the last word. But Skylar is already flicking through the pages, her fingers trembling. And there it is. Proof of what happened to him.

Cam Nightlock—Projector—Grade One—Champion

Nightlock. The surname from his parents, who were both Botanists. Who have the reputation of being kind and nurturing, but who beat and abandoned Cam for his power—or lack of it. She wonders if his parents are on here somewhere. She hopes so.

Champion. Champion. But no matter how many times she repeats it in her mind, she has no idea what it means.

“Skylar?” Astrid is watching her, deep blue eyes assessing. “What’s—?” But she’s cut off by the sound of a cat howling, not too far away. Bastet, giving the signal that they need to leave.

Skylar grabs the register, shoving it under her arm as she moves toward the door.

“What are you doing?” Astrid hisses.

“What does it look like? I’m taking it with me.”

“No,” Astrid says, holding out an arm to stop Skylar getting past. Skylar rolls her eyes, sidesteps. “You’re not taking it, Skylar.”

“I definitely am. I need to study it. I need to figure out what it means.”

“If they find out we were in here, they’ll—”

“What? Kill us?”

Astrid takes a breath like she’s praying for patience. “They might not be able to kill us, but they can hurt the people we care about.”

Skylar shrugs. “I’m fresh out of those.”

“Well, I’m not.”

“Too bad you couldn’t break in here alone, then, isn’t it?”

“You need to put it back.”

Skylar snorts. “Yeah, that’s not going to happen.”

Astrid’s hand moves to her belt—to the line of potions there. Skylar reacts by pulling the pin from her hair. There’s quiet. Then they both move at the same time, Skylar going for Astrid’s throat, Astrid snatching a vial as she dodges. She’s got a potion out, ready to throw.

But fuck this. She’s not letting the witch take this from her—this is the closest she’s got to finding something on Cam. So she acts without thinking, holding her hand out, palm up—and driving her pin straight through it.

Astrid drops the vial she was holding and lets out a scream that she immediately stifles, gripping her palm with her other hand, as blood seeps from a wound there. Skylar’s breath comes out on a hiss as she pulls the pin free, the silver turned scarlet.

“What the Hel are you doing?” Astrid whisper-shouts.

Skylar grits her teeth through the pain. “Thought I’d test the I-get-maimed, you-get-maimed theory.”

Astrid scrambles at her belt, takes a vial, and downs it in one.

Before Skylar’s eyes, the wound starts to knit together.

They both look down at Skylar’s hand, but unlike Astrid’s, it doesn’t heal.

Astrid holds the vial out to Skylar, but she takes a step back, hugging the register to her, as blood drips from her hand.

Astrid closes her eyes, breathes through her nostrils. “You’re a Hel-damned liability.”

“Do you know, you’re not the first one to tell me that.”

Astrid huffs out a breath as she bends to pick up the vial she dropped.

Another howl, closer now.

“At least bandage it so you don’t give us away with blood all over the damn place.” Astrid tosses her a piece of fabric and Skylar wraps it around the wound.

They leave the office at a run, Astrid muttering a spell to banish the floating ball of light.

Once they’re outside, Skylar salutes with her uninjured hand. “Well, I’ll just be off to bed, then.”

She makes sure to stay out of reach of any other potion Astrid might have up her sleeve and, mainly because she knows it will annoy her, Skylar winks at her as she tosses back the bandage, covered in blood. Climbing back up to her room will be a bitch now, but it was worth it.

She’s already turned to leave when she hears Astrid’s voice behind her. “Skylar?” She glances back. “If I don’t see you between now and then… Good luck on the island.”

Skylar offers her a smirk. “Don’t worry, Little Witch. I have things to do before I die.” She gives the register a meaningful pat, then turns, leaving Astrid to find Bastet in the dark.

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