Chapter 2
Serafina
“Fi, get behind me.” Char’s voice is low, authoritative. It’s the tone he knows I hate, but I do what he says anyway.
I drop my satchel to the ground. The sickening crack is unmistakable, and I know at least a few of the bottles have broken. My hands find their way to Char’s back, grazing over his tense muscles.
“We don’t want any trouble,” he says, his words now directed at the men who are eyeing us like wounded prey.
Five of them hold dry pieces of wood. Three grip bricks the size of my foot. And two aren’t holding anything at all. As far as I can tell, none of them are in possession of a real weapon. Steel blades like mine are hard to come by. If weapons were easily available, the streets would be a bloodbath.
We all know that fewer numbers in the arena means a better chance of survival come trial day.
“You hear that, Norin?” one of the men not holding anything says. He has coal-black hair, brown skin, and a round face. I’ve seen him before. Many times. He’s in our trial year, the same age we are. But I’ve never bothered to learn his name. There’s no point. Not until the third trial is over.
“Char doesn’t want any trouble. It’s all but confirmed that he’ll be handed the number one spot, but he doesn’t want any trouble. What do you make of that?” He glances at the man standing next to him. The one that must be Norin.
“I don’t know, Tee. I think if he didn’t want any trouble, then he shouldn’t have come down this alley. What do you think?” Norin cocks his head to the side, his red strands falling in his wide-set brown eyes.
He moves his hand from behind his back, revealing the broken piece of glass he’s been holding onto. He smacks the flat side against his palm.
“Why don’t you run along, Fi.”
He must have heard what Char called me because there’s no way he knew who I was before this moment.
“By the looks of you, you won’t be surviving the final trial anyway. Who am I to deprive you of your remaining days?”
His words make my stomach churn, and I resist the urge to scratch his eyes out.
He smacks the glass against his palm again.
I may not be a threat to them, but Char certainly is. If any of them are gunning for the top position, then Char needs to be removed from the competition. And the only way to remove someone is to kill them.
They’re right. He never should have come down this alley.
And he never would have, if it wasn’t for me.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I say, my voice sounding far braver than I feel.
I remove my hand from Char’s back, preparing to reach for my blade. Doing it now would be foolish. I need to wait for the right moment. They don’t think I’m armed with anything, let alone actual steel. I need to use that to my advantage.
“Fi, I think you should listen to him,” Char says slowly, angling his head so he can see me. “Get out of here.”
His eyes flicker across my face, giving me a look I’ve never seen on him before. At least, not directed at me.
Longing.
Desire.
Heartache.
Is this how people look at each other right before they’re about to die?
Suddenly, there’s a lump in my throat, but I force it away with a heavy swallow.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I repeat. It’s my fault he’s in this mess. There’s no way I’m leaving him. “He’s the mayor’s son. There will be consequences,” I remind them, but I know it won’t do any good. There’s no going back now. They’ve made their intentions all too clear.
“Screw the mayor,” another one of the men calls out. “I’ve spent my entire life hungry. And he hasn’t done a damn thing about it.”
“We’re all hungry. You know it’s not his fault,” Char says, and his fists tighten.
I squeeze his shoulder. Now is not the time for this argument, but Char will never not defend his father.
“The fields are barely producing food anymore. What they do yield needs to be rationed. There’s only so much he can do. ”
“Well, someone needs to do better, and I won’t stand around and watch that person be you. You don’t deserve the number one spot.” Norin spits, and Tee grabs a brick off the ground before taking a step toward us.
“And you do?” I challenge right as a gust of warm wind tunnels through the alley, tousling my hair, threatening to hinder my view. I brush the dark strands from my face.
Norin grins while the others raise their weapons. “I do.”
Everything happens fast.
Too fast.
Char spins, shielding me with his large body, pressing me against the wall with both hands positioned around my head, making me feel smaller than I am.
He grunts, and I know he’s been struck. By what? I’m not sure. He grunts again, and I force my hand between us, reaching for my blade, but I can’t lift my skirt, not with Char shoving his body against mine.
Then suddenly, I don’t feel his weight against me anymore. He’s gone, being pulled away and forced to his knees.
The broken glass held to his throat.
The same place my blade had been.
But it’s not my hand holding the object that can end his life.
It’s Norin’s.
My blade. My blade! I reach for it with lightning speed, pulling up my skirt and yanking it free. Norin’s grin only grows when I hold it in front of me.
“Now, where did someone like you get something like that?” His eyes rake over me, and I try not to shiver. “Boys, grab her,” Norin demands, and I hold my blade firm, my eyes meeting each of theirs, daring them to advance. To make the first move.
My actions need to be planned, premeditated, otherwise, we won’t survive this, not with so many of them and only one of me.
“I don’t know, Norin. I don’t want to get sliced.” One of the men physically winces, even though my blade hasn’t even touched him.
“I said grab her.” Norin’s jaw sets, and it’s clear who the leader of this group is.
“Get away from—” Two of them rush me at once, something no amount of training could have prepared me for. I’m fast, but not that fast.
I duck right as one of them tries to grab me. Moving straight past him, I make my advance on the taller one with dirty blond hair.
I drive my blade deep into his upper thigh, and he screams. I have no doubt that I hit his femoral artery, and I freeze as panic and dread grip me in a way that I’ve never experienced.
He’s going to die.
I’ve never killed anyone before. This blade has never actually pierced human skin. It’s never actually harmed anyone.
Until now.
My heart speeds up, and my pulse throbs in my ears, but I can’t stop. I have to keep going.
I rip my blade from his leg with only one thought on my mind. I’m so sorry.
But I keep myself from saying it out loud.
They did this. Not me.
The man I dodged is back in my line of sight. I lift my arm, preparing to drive my weapon into the soft flesh just above his collarbone, but he grabs my wrist, squeezing so tight I know he’ll leave a bruise.
But bruises don’t matter if you’re dead.
I aim a kick at his groin, a cheap shot he anticipates. With his left hand still holding my wrist, his right grips my ankle, yanking me forward and knocking me off balance.
Another makes his advance, working quickly to pry my fingers open.
My blade falls to the ground, and my heart stops.
Someone grabs my arms and slams me back against the wall. My head smashes the brick, and the whole world spins. I see three of them, then six of them, then three again.
“Let her go!” Char yells.
I latch onto the sound of his voice, and my vision focuses. He thrashes against the two men who are holding him, and blood trickles down his neck from the spot the glass rests.
“You’re not really in a position to be giving orders,” Norin muses as someone tosses him my blade. He admires it with a quick grin before stashing it in his pocket. Fucking cockroach. “Unless you want to tell me which one of you I should kill first?” His brow arches, and his eyes move to me.
Char’s whole body goes rigid.
“Don’t even think about it.” He jerks his shoulder again. “Let her go, Norin. She’s no threat to you. You said it yourself. She’ll never make it through the third trial. Just look at her.” He nods in my direction but averts his gaze, and I try not to flinch at his words.
Just look at her. Look how pathetic she is. It’s what everyone has always thought of me. Frail little Serafina. How in the world is she still alive?
“Even now you try to save her? Seems to me like you only came down this way because of her. We watched you both leave the marketplace. We watched her go, then you go,” Norin utters, and everything he says is true.
“Char, I’m so sorry!” I say, just before a broken sob escapes me. The sound is foreign and ugly, and it makes my whole chest heave.
I rarely cry, to the point where I can count the number of times on one hand. Crying makes you look weak, and I already look weak enough. But this one I couldn’t keep down because Char is going to die.
We’re both going to die.
And it’s all my fault.
“Shh.” Char’s voice is soft. Like it used to be when we were kids. “Don’t you dare apologize, Fi. At least this way, I know I’ll never have to live a day without you.” He lets out a choked laugh, and the sound of it makes everything hurt more.
My sobs grow louder, and I close my eyes because seeing Char kneeling on the ground with a glass shard to his throat hurts. It hurts so much.
“Fi, look at me,” he orders, and my lids fly open, my eyes locking on his for what feels like the last time.
He shakes his head, grinding his teeth as his nostrils flare.
“I love you. I’ve always loved you.” His eyes sear into mine, and my breath catches because what does he mean when he says that he loves me?
Loves me like I’ve been his best friend since we were seven? Or loves me, loves me?
But it doesn’t matter. Because our time is up.
“Well, isn’t this adorable,” Norin teases. “I got to say, Char, I’m a little surprised. I never took you as the settling down type. Makes me wonder what exactly she has to offer.”
His eyes bounce between my breasts before a wicked grin stretches across his crooked teeth.
“Go to hell,” I yell, kicking the air between us while Char once again attempts to free himself from their hold, but he’s forced to stop when Norin tightens his grip on the glass.
“And she’s feisty? You sure know how to pick ‘em. It’s a shame we don’t have more time,” he snickers, and the sound makes my blood boil. But not in the metaphorical way, the literal way. In fact, my entire body feels like it’s on fire.
“Come on, Norin, stop messing around. Let’s just do this and be done with it,” one of the men holding onto me says. His eyes shift up and down the alley. “I don’t want to be anywhere near here when they find the bodies. Especially his.” He points his chin at Char.
I wasn’t kidding when I said there would be consequences for killing the mayor’s son.
But only if they’re caught.
Norin rolls his eyes. “Fine. Just don’t wet your pants when you see all the blood.” And as he adjusts the piece of glass in his hand, preparing to drag it across Char’s delicate throat, I scream.
Again and again, I scream.
And with each scream, everything grows hotter, feels hotter, is hotter. I know because the men holding onto me leap away, shaking their reddened hands as if they’ve been burned.
And I just keep screaming.
Screaming and screaming until my vision is overtaken by flickering flames. Flames that surround me, flames that aren’t in my mind, but are real. Growing, living, thriving. But even as my body is engulfed in them, I do not burn.
“She’s…she’s…”
I turn to one of my attackers. He’s white as a ghost, staggering backward before tripping over a piece of wood and falling to the ground.
“An Essentari,” Char finishes for him. His eyes are wide, his mouth slightly agape.
My mind barely registers the word.
An Essentari?
I can’t be. I can’t, but then the flames around me expand even more.
They’re all I hear. All I smell. All I am.
“Drop the glass,” I say to Norin, who’s also looking a bit pale. I’m not in control of myself, and by the look on his face, he knows it. “Drop the glass,” I repeat, and as I do, the flames shoot forward, scorching his shoes.
He removes his weapon from Char’s neck, but he doesn’t let the broken shard go.
Instead, he waves it at me. “You’re dead. You hear? Dead.” He takes off, fleeing in the direction of the market.
The rest of the men follow, not bothering to check on the one I’d stabbed. The one who’s still breathing. The one who’s still alive.
But why would they try to save him? Leaving him behind means they’ll have one less competitor in the arena.
Thanks to me.
My chest aches. My whole body aches. The feeling is so sudden, so violent, and utterly overwhelming that I scream again, and when I can’t see a single one of them anymore, I drop to the ground, and the world fades away.