Page 55 of Duskbound

"I think we're past all of this prisoner business," he said, eyes lingering on me a beat longer before he slipped back inside.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

"Defense will always winout in the end," Vexa said, adjusting the straps of my leathers. We stood in a dimly lit preparation chamber, the sounds of the gathering crowd muffled by ancient stone walls. "Don't strike until you've tired them out. The Sentinels are trained to outlast their opponents—they'll be waiting for you to make the first mistake."

I nodded, trying to memorize every word. In a few minutes, I wouldn't have her counsel anymore. Or any of them.

"Remember," she continued, "the Generals aren't just looking for victories. They want to see control. Discipline." Her violet eyes met mine. "You've got the skill. Just don't let them see your fear."

"Or your tether," Effie added from where she leaned against the wall. "They're particularly strict about that."

"We have to go," Rethlyn's voice cut through the tension. He sat on a stone ridge that lined the wall of the chamber. "The trials are about to begin."

Something passed between him and Vexa—a look I couldn't quite interpret. Then Vexa squeezed my arm one last time. "Show them what you're made of."

Rethlyn lingered, hanging in through the doorway. The look on his face seemed apologetic.

"You’re going to be fine," he said, giving me a soft smile

“Aether is with Lael, right?” I asked.

"Of course."

I sighed, something about that calmed my racing heart.

Rethlyn gave me one final glance before ducking out. Through the door, I could hear other voices now—the other candidates arriving.

We were back in the mountain, but the chamber from before had been transformed. Where the altar had stood now rose a fighting pit. An audience sat higher, looking down with eager expressions.

Above the main ring, four chairs had been positioned on a raised platform. The Generals of the Umbra sat—Urkin in the center, his face carved from stone, flanked by General Taliora of the Medic's Unit and Talon of the Archival Unit. In the fourth chair sat a man I didn't recognize, though I knew from Vexa's whispered advice the night before that this must be General Karis of the Scout's Regiment. She'd told me he could become a powerful ally if I managed to impress him today.

"We have time before they start," Lael said, settling beside me on one of the benches in the waiting area. "They always make us wait. Builds the tension, Uma says." He tried for a grin but it came out more like a grimace.

"How are Uma and Carden handling it?" I asked, grateful for the distraction. "Training without you?"

"Oh, Uma's convinced she could be here right now if they'd let her." His grin became more genuine. "Carden at least pretends to be patient about it." His expression softened. "Aether says they'll both be ready in a few years, though. Says Uma's got the makings of a real fighter, if she can learn to focus."

"Aether said that?" I bit back a grin, thinking of Uma's boundless energy.

"Yeah," Lael said, his voice dropping. "I mean, I know what people say about him. But they don't see him teaching Carden how to fall properly, or spending extra time helping Uma with her forms. No one else does that." He picked at a loose thread on his leathers. "After my parents... when he found me in Croyg... he didn't have to help. But he did."

"I'm Kenna," a voice cut in. A woman had drifted closer. "Sorry to interrupt, but standing alone was getting a bit..." She glanced toward one of the practice areas where Valkan was now executing combat forms with his personal guards. "Uncomfortable."

A tall man lingered at the edge of our group, his sharp eyes never settling in one place for long. "Theron," he offered in a clipped tone, though he made no move to come closer.

"Not exactly the social type?" Kenna asked him with a hint of amusement.

His only response was to shift his gaze to another corner of the room, as if cataloging every shadow.

A young man stepped forward then, speaking so softly I had to lean in to hear him. "Soren," he said, then nodded toward a girl who hadn't stopped moving since she'd entered the chamber. Her hair was pulled back so severely it seemed to strain against her scalp. "And that's Mira. We came together."

Mira's only acknowledgment was a slight pause in her pacing.

"Where did you train?" Kenna asked, brushing a loose strand of onyx hair behind her ear. Her question seemed casual, but something sharper lurked beneath it.

"Here and there," Soren replied vaguely. His hands were calloused but precise in their movements, like someone used to detailed work. "Lately, wherever we could find shelter."

Mira's pacing brought her closer to our group. Her boots wereworn nearly through, the leather cracked and stained. "We didn't all have the luxury of proper training," she said, her voice rough.

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