Chapter Twenty-Five
TWENTY-FIVE
It took me until the water ran cold to wash the mud from my hair and body. It pooled at my feet in a brown swirl going down the drain. By the time I got out of the shower, my skin was raw, my head ached from where I scrubbed at it, and my entire body was shivering.
It was all worth it though, to see the resentful looks on everyone’s faces when I walked out of the trees and into the clearing.
Even Nicks looked surprised. Only five of us had made it to the end.
Myself, Cillian and Aiden, like I predicted, then Isla and another student named Leo.
The others all were sent to the infirmary for healing.
Which meant that Sebastian had caught Moira.
After my shower, I am desperately craving sleep, but the history class I’m currently sitting in had to come first. I can barely lift my pencil to write notes and find myself slumping in my chair, struggling to focus, my vision blurring at the edges.
Luckily, I have Tilly to poke me in the ribs every time the professor glances in our direction.
Tilly’s eyes shine with worry when I start to doze off again. She’s been stealing glances at me the entire class and after what I just told her about the forest trial I went through this morning, I can understand why.
Finally, class finishes and I pack away the barely legible notes I took down on the war that’s raged for the last five hundred years. Tilly drags me to the dining hall to eat.
‘You’re not eating enough, Aria!’ she scolds me. ‘Malachite students need to be eating twice as much as Opal or Agate students. You’re burning yourself out!’
I grumble in response and let her pull me along. But the second I step foot inside and dozens of eyes whirl on me; I can’t find it in myself to keep going. Jamie died here. If they can poison my own drink without me knowing, how can I trust the food?
I back out of the dining hall, not caring if it makes me look weak or like a coward. I’d rather starve than let them win by poisoning me.
Tilly rushes out after me. Surprisingly, Lillian is right on her heels.
‘Go eat, Revlock.’ Lillian reaches me first and winds her arm around my waist. ‘I’ll take Nocthare up to her room before she headbutts the ground.’
‘Oh.’ Tilly’s eyes flick to mine and she bites her lower lip. ‘Are you going to be okay?’
I assume she means with Lillian, so I nod. I trust her not to kill me at this stage.
‘Well, make sure she eats something,’ Tilly orders as Lillian leads me away.
Twenty minutes later, I’m sitting on my bed crossed-legged, a plate resting on my lap. It’s almost licked clean as I dip a corner of bread through the leftover gravy and pop it into my mouth, savouring the rich flavour.
‘I’ve got to say,’ Lillian sighs against the bed roll Sebastian left behind, ‘you’ve really managed to cause a lot of chaos since you got here.’
‘I’ve quite literally done nothing,’ I retort.
My stomach feels full – for the first time in a while.
Lillian brought me the plate of food herself, everything hand-picked from the kitchens.
Not the dining hall, she’d stressed. I reach over and place the empty dish on my nightstand, before leaning back against the metal headboard of my bed, my hands resting on my bloated stomach.
Lillian quirks a pierced brow. ‘That smart mouth of yours is just as much of a deathtrap as your last name.’
‘Thank you, for the lovely reminder of how loathed my family is,’ I mutter sarcastically, staring up at the ceiling. My father should be proud; I won a test today and wasn’t completely useless.
‘I won’t sugar-coat things for you, Nocthare.
It’s not our way. But because we’re on the topic, we need to discuss what happened this morning.
’ Lillian sits up and crosses her legs, turning to face me.
‘Jamie Fallow’s death won’t be like Harley’s.
It won’t be hidden or covered up. Helena is already being questioned by Nicks for her possible involvement in Harley’s murder.
She had unlimited access to the cells and had the magic to strangle him with her element without even needing to touch him. ’
‘No.’ My head shakes. ‘It can’t be. She wouldn’t poison her own friend! Would she?’
Lillian’s shoulder lifts. ‘How could she have known that Jamie was going to steal your drink?’
‘She was right there! She saw him take it off my tray. She would have stopped him,’ I reason.
‘Look, all I’m saying is that people have done worse things, Nocthare.
’ She looks at me, voice firm and full of caution.
‘You need to put your head down and keep your mouth shut, because you got lucky this morning. If anyone else finds out your name is attached to Harley’s sudden disappearance as well as Jamie Fallow’s death …
’ Her lips tighten into a flat line. She doesn’t need to continue, I get the message.
It’ll be my cold body taken to the bottom of the Opal tower next.
‘Nocthare, get in the ring with Davis,’ Sebastian orders as he walks to a rack of wooden training staves and pulls off two. ‘We’re weapons training today. I’ll be marking you on your offence and defence skills.’
‘Oh, this should be good.’ Moira chuckles while tying her thick red hair at the nape of her neck.
While it’s no secret my specialty isn’t in offence, which should instantly put me on edge, what Moira doesn’t know is that I am very skilled with the long wooden weapon that is placed in my hand seconds later.
I hide the smug smile on my face. Sebastian knows how well I fight with this particular weapon. It’s strange that he’s chosen this for our first weapons training, but who am I to argue?
‘Don’t worry, I’ll go easy on you,’ Moira taunts as she snatches her stave off Sebastian and bends her knees, lowering herself into a defensive position.
If it were hand-to-hand combat I know I wouldn’t be feeling this confident, so I thank the Stars it’s not. I’ve seen how Moira handles these staves; I watched her on that first day. Uncontrolled and over-performative. Sebastian also knows this; he was the one in the ring with her, after all.
My hands find familiar purchase around the smooth wood, gripping it tightly and then releasing. Testing out the weight of it. Lighter than the ones at home, which is good – it means I won’t tire as easily.
As soon as I’m in position, Moira lunges. Her stave slices through the air with a whistle then cracks loudly against mine as I block her attack above my head. I bring the top of my stave down, using it to push against hers until she’s forced to either dip low with the change in angle or release it.
She chooses the former, dipping low before quickly adjusting her grip and leaping away from me, only to jump forward again with a low swipe. Again, I block and shove her backward, to create some distance and wait for her to advance once more.
Moira’s fighting technique is one of brute force.
She’s quick to attack and does so viciously.
I used to do the same thing, which I think is why I can read her so well.
Lukas beat the aggressiveness and recklessness out of me over the years, and instead taught me to fight powered by calm and precision.
In fact, fighting seems to be the only time I work this way.
For everything else, I revert to my reckless self.
I feel closer to Lukas than ever when I’m fighting. I feel like he’s here with me, beside me as I duck, dodge and block every move Moira throws my way for the next several minutes.
‘Nocthare, I said you were on offence – that usually means you have to strike your opponent at some stage!’ Sebastian chides from the side line.
‘Are you sure?’ I ask through heavy breaths as I dart to the right. ‘Moira looks like she’s having so much fun hitting the air.’
‘Bitch,’ she snarls and I swear I hear Sebastian’s soft chuckle as he walks around the mat.
Deciding to finally change tactics, I advance on Moira.
It’s swift. In a few quick movements, I feint right, then sweep left, ducking low to crack my stave against hers and knock the bottom of it away from her legs.
The force sends vibrations up my arms, but that doesn’t deter me.
Instead, I use the opening I created and hook my stave behind her knee and tug, knocking her off balance.
She falls to her ass with a curse right before the tip of my stave pushes at her chest, sending her sprawling flat on her back.
I step over her, the wooden end of my stave pointed directly at her face, and glare down at her wide-eyed expression.
‘Thanks for going easy on me. It would have been really embarrassing if you didn’t.’
My eyes lift from Moira, who looks ready to rip my face off with her sharp nails, to Sebastian.
What I see in his gaze nearly knocks me off balance, because that could be a hint of pride in the subtle curve of his full lips.
The second he notices me watching him though, it disappears and is replaced with a glower.
‘Get up, Davis!’ he commands. Stepping into the ring, he picks up Moira’s stave. ‘Take a breather,’ he tells her as she rises. ‘It sounds like Acolyte Nocthare is looking for a bit of a challenge, and I just so happen to have missed my workout this morning.’
I baulk. While the other combat leaders spend time in the ring with their first-years, Sebastian rarely ever steps inside the ring to spar, preferring to criticise and instruct from the outside. What game is he playing at?
‘Get in position, acolyte. I’m going to show you how arrogance gets people killed,’ he says, tapping his stave against the mat.
‘Arrogance? Wow, how self-aware of you,’ I reply, sarcasm infused in every word.
His eyes narrow. ‘Your petulance is wearing my patience thin,’ he says. ‘Get. In. Position.’
‘Petulance, patience, position. I also know words that start with the letter P.’ I smile, but it holds no warmth as I gesture toward him with one hand. ‘Prick, for example.’
Sebastian lunges.
His stave connects with mine in an almighty clash that echoes throughout the room. I block his strike, bringing my stave up in front of my face, then spin and sweep low. But he leaps back, then strikes high. I duck just in time, hearing the whiz of his stave fly through the air above me.
‘Pig-headed,’ I continue and leap up, twisting my stave around my body and jabbing toward his ribs.
He bends out of the way but damn, it was close. My eyes dip to his groin, before flicking back up.
‘Puny,’ I grin.
His top lip curls back, and a low growl builds in his throat that makes my blood rush.
When he attacks again, it’s nothing like before.
He is relentless in his pursuit. His stave cracks down on mine with a ferocity that makes my arms shake.
The force sends shock waves all the way down to my fingers.
I shove him off and dive into a flurry of hard and fast strikes hoping to catch him off guard, but he holds his own, deflecting and blocking with practised ease.
That is until a strike finally lands – right on his shoulder.
He grunts, stepping back with a flash of surprise in his flaming green eyes.
There’s an audible gasp in the room. My gaze flicks past Sebastian, to the first -years who have paused their training to stand and watch. Combat leaders are spread around the room also, their eyes pinned to the two of us. Gods, they’re all watching.
Movement in the corner of my eye has my body jerking back around. Sebastian advances, but my focus had drifted to the onlookers outside of the ring, so I react far too slowly to the man who stands inside of it.
His stave careens toward my torso. In a last-ditch effort to spare myself, I tense my abdominal muscles right before it thwacks across my stomach. The air is knocked out of me and my feet leave the mat as I fall backward, landing hard on my back. My teeth clatter together loudly.
‘F-fuck,’ I pant, pulling a lungful of air into my body as the shock rolls through me.
I hear Sebastian’s boots thud against the mat as he closes the distance between us. He stops beside my right hip and crouches down. His stave is laid across his thighs, his hands dangling between them.
‘Pathetic. Poisonous. Pest.’ His deep voice is raspy and callous. It grates at my skin, at my nerves, at the rapid -pounding organ in my chest.
My left hand curls around my stave, clenching the wood so hard I know my knuckles are white without having to look.
I let his insults roll into me, using them as fuel to breathe through the pain lashing across my stomach.
To push past the embarrassment, knowing everyone just witnessed him hand my ass to me.
I swallow his insults down like they’re my favourite poison.
I don’t hold back the tears that threaten to fill my eyes.
Instead I let them fall. I want him to think I’ve given up.
Want him to think that he won … and it works.
I see the moment his brows dip, and the corner of his mouth tugs down as if my visible distress truly affects him. Almost as if he feels … guilty.
In one quick movement I lift my legs to curl my body into itself, then kick out, my boots slamming into the inside of his right knee and knocking him off balance.
He falls to his side, grasping for the stave that I kick away from him as I leap to my feet.
It clatters to the ground somewhere outside of the mat, while mine twists in my hand and jabs into the middle of his chest, pinning him to the mat just like I did with Moira earlier.
His eyes widen, pupils dilating as I lean forward and whisper, ‘That is how arrogance gets you killed.’ I release my weapon, letting it clatter down beside him as I spin on my heel and stalk out of the Training Centre.