12. The Triad #2
At the last moment though, still clamped onto her wrist, Az straightens his arm and brings it across his chest, sweeping her around before he suddenly lets go, sending her flying into her own unit and knocking several off their feet like skittles.
“The first Triad has its victor!” Zaheer yells.
Yuvi curses, eyeballing Ravi like it’s her fault for supporting the wrong team.
Silver’s mouth curves into a smile that could stop hearts as he crosses the circle toward Az, who’s landed in a heap on the ash.
The crowd erupts, and I find myself cheering along, Ravi’s tail wagging and hitting me in the calves repeatedly.
Az takes the hand Silver offers and climbs to his feet. He’s barely standing before Khali sprints into the ring and jumps at him, wrapping her legs around his waist.
Silver sidesteps out of the way, and somehow, Az remains upright, hugging Khali back with one hand at the back of her neck and the other under her ass.
When he puts her down, he says to no one in particular, “I would like water, and possibly a nap. Preferably at the same time.”
Zaheer holds up a chalkboard that reads:
The Triad
First - Ferrum
Second - Stannum
Third - Aes
The cheer that follows from Ferrum Company shakes the yard.
I grin, heart racing, and find myself watching Silver as a tiny flicker of pride crosses his eyes, making them glow more gold than gray.
“Enough,” Silver says a few moments later when Aes and Stannum have left the center circle. “Back over there to debrief. You can celebrate in The Rec later.”
Once the last of the Ferrum cadets have joined the semi-circle gathered around our unit's training ring, Silver clears his throat and steps forward into the circle.
“Thorne,” he nods to Az, “Ferrum,” his gaze sweeps around the ring. “You held your own today, a good start and hopefully tonight you will bond over your victory while the others bicker.”
“You’re welcome, fuckers,” Az says, applying pressure to a cut on his head that I’m not even sure in which fight he got.
“But the Triad is not what will kill you,” Silver continues. “Sure, competing as Ferrum’s champion and winning will earn you respect and allies, but it’s the games that will reduce our numbers.”
“We will protect him in the games,” a voice calls out from the line.
“Good. You’re cottoning on,” Silver says, and it suddenly dawns on me why they make us compete in the Triad. It’s so the strongest are protected and more likely to survive the games, increasing their chances of making it to march in The Iron Choir.
“But don’t speak too soon, Morogan,” Silver warns. “Envy lives inside all of us.” He looks over to where Diana and I stand together. “Don’t think that doesn’t include you, too.”
My stomach twists as that spark in me ignites at his words. Does he know?
Perhaps he can sense it.
“Angelo,” Silver says, his eyes not leaving us.
I frown, and it takes a moment to realize he’s talking to Diana. She only said her full name once, to the office behind the desk. How was that just yesterday?
“How do you counter envy?” Silver asks her.
“W-With kindness and ch-charity, Overlord,” she stutters, clearly uncomfortable with so many eyes trained on her.
“Correct,” he says. “I suggest you all look up envy and its counterweights tomorrow in R their Overlords obviously already having given them this news before they were dismissed.
“Well, aren’t you a mountain of good news this afternoon, Overlord,” Az says. Anyone else and I’d be worried how Silver might react, but Az seems to say things in a way that he gets away with it.
“I try,” Silver says, before waving us off with a shooing gesture, like he’s done with our company for today.
“The Feast of Endless Need,” I mutter to myself, wracking my brain with possibilities of what it might entail.
I swallow, then glance around our group, trying to gauge their reactions too. See if I can overhear any of their theories.
I can't.
How many of us will be breathing a week from now? Are they scared, excited, ready?
It’s hard to tell, but one thing is clear, small cliques hover near each other, alliances forming quickly.
Though I may live to regret it, I’m glad for the one I struck over lunch.
Especially now as everyone is officially dismissed and splits off in those small factions, gravitating toward Az before they go, slapping him on the back, shaking his hand and congratulating him on his performance in the ring.
Some go as far as to call him “Champion” instead of Az or Thorne.
Several offer to meet up to strategize, others hint at training together. Az neither outright refuses nor accepts any of them, instead he combats their offers with jokes, not burning any bridges but not making any promises either.
Smart move.
He’s more intelligent than his words and bravado let on.
“Come on Khal,” he says once the last of the cadets are done feeding his ego. “I need a drink.”
“Something strong,” she agrees. “Oh.” She turns to me. “We’ll start tomorrow, Scarvo, yeah?”
I nod, then spot Diana watching us from the corner of my eye.
Though our conversation hadn’t gone exactly as I planned, I’m glad we spoke in the Library earlier. If we hadn’t, she might be thinking right now that I’m some kind of traitor for the feigned friendliness with Khali, and for making mysterious plans with her for tomorrow.
More importantly, I now have a lot more information on the academy and seraphim Educators running it to pass on to my father the moment the journal is dry enough.
I give Diana a smile which I hope removes any leftover awkwardness between us and tilt my head toward the doors to the West, closest to Ferrum’s dorms.
She nods and follows but doesn’t say anything.
I’ll talk to her more tonight while everyone else is at The Rec. Hopefully she can tell me more about the academy, the specifics as she’d called it.
In return, I can offer to help train her myself if Khali and the others reject her from the alliance.