Page 23 of Trial of Three
“Not unless you have some sway with the council that I don’t know about.” She stabs a carrot, frowning when it splits apart. “I’m overreacting. Truly. And I was worse when River and his lot went. See, the council had dumped them at a temple near the Mors border and Tye light-fingered one of the artifacts. They were nearly back to the Citadel when River discovered it, and he made them all return to put the damn thing back.” She points her fork at me. “Considering that the runes kill any trainee not back at the Citadel within three days, you can imagine the popularity of that particular decision.”
“I’d have killed the bastard,” I say. “Both of them.”
Autumn gives a small chuckle. “You are much better at talking than River is.” She pauses. “I need dessert before I can conjure a better compliment. That was admittedly weak.”
A follow-up chime sounds before I can respond, and Autumn rises from the table, picking up her unfinished plate. “I should clear the dishes.”
I grab the female’s wrist, waiting until she meets my eyes. “If there is anything—anything—in my power to help Kora, you need only say the word and I’ll do it. You have my promise on that.”
Her eyes soften. “Thank you, Lera. That helps.”
* * *
Tye failsto return to the suite before I head to bed, snuggling against a warm—if still shedding—wolf. When I rise in the morning, Tye is already gone, the ominous absence making me shiver.
A note brought with the breakfast tray confirms Tye’s assignment to teach a class to all Citadel trainees with a fire-magic affinity, which has one Leralynn-the-mortal on its roster. I pull my hair back with a leather thong and straighten my burgundy tunic, breathing courage into my lungs. So long as Tye doesn’t repeat that little trick from earlier before a dozen other trainees, I’ll get through the morning one way or another.
Coal surveys me from across the room, his gaze lingering on my shoulder.
Obligingly, I move the joint in a circle for his inspection. “You could just ask me how I’m feeling.”
“Asking would yield your opinion,” Coal answers, his voice calm. “When I watch you move, I get facts.”
Right. Well, at least one of us appears back to normal. I push down a pang of jealousy. Just standing beside Coal is making my stomach churn and my thighs press together, neither of which I find helpful just now. Grabbing a sweet roll from the platter, I start for the door. The sooner I’m out of this suite, the better. For many reasons. “I’ll see you later,” I call over my shoulder. “Tye left without waiting for me this morning, and I’m of a mind to ambush him before class starts.”
The chill air outside wakes my skin, the scent of roses from the thorny bushes lining our walkway an uncomfortable reminder of the Citadel’s odd duality. Luxury and brutality. Courtesy and control.A cocky female-obsessed Tye and the real male beneath.
I shiver, rubbing my hands over my upper arms. A heavy mist cloaks the pathways and lawns of the Citadel grounds, the morning sun having not yet burned it off. The grounds are quiet, only the distant scraping of feet on paving stones echoing faintly off the tall marble buildings.
“Mortal. Wait,” Coal says behind me, a few steps bringing him from the door to my side. Hair back in its usual tight bun, the warrior is dressed in a sleeveless black tunic and leather breeches, a long blade strapped along his spine. Stopping a step away, he gazes down at me, his blue eyes brilliant and sharp enough to pierce my chest.
The foot of air between us heats, crackling with an energy that prickles along my skin.
Coal swallows. “I wanted to say... I wanted to thank you, mortal.” His large, calloused hand reaches for my face, pulling away into a fist without ever making contact. “For—”
I grab Coal’s wrist, saving him from finishing his sentence. “Walk me to the practice arena?”
He gives me a grateful nod and starts us into motion, his eyes never stopping their assessment of me. “Don’t worry about the chill. You’ll be warm enough once training starts.”
Right. “So”—I make my voice light—“anything you want to tell me about this training of Tye’s?”
Coal puts his hands behind his back, considering the question a great deal longer than I thought he would. “No,” he says finally. Several steps later, he adds, “Only that you should not expect to do well.”
15
Lera
Coal leaves me at the wall of the practice arena and I climb the steps up and the ladder down myself, discovering the round space empty. A horizontal bar is set up in the center, along with several paper targets and a dozen armed crossbows braced on metal stands. The latter point at the horizontal bar as if taking aim, an arrangement that cannot possibly be safe.
I’m about to turn away to look for Tye elsewhere when I realize that the horizontal bar is flexing slightly, as if holding a phantom yet shifting weight. I take a step toward it. A heartbeat later, Tye appears out of thin air, rotates a full circle around the bar, and disappears again.
I jump back, my hand going to my mouth, my heart slowly remembering how to beat. The Gloom. I swallow, watching Tye materialize in midair, release the bar to tumble head over heels, and grip it again with smooth precision before disappearing once more. The male is not only moving in space but also in and out of the Gloom as he does it.
“Bloody burning stars,” a male voice utters behind me. I turn to find a squat, tan male in the orange tunic of Malikai’s quint. The male’s eyes are riveted to the bar, where Tye now balances upside down, rings of fire encircling him like flaming snakes. “Has someone called the damn circus to town?”
“Aye, Blayne,” a second male answers, now joining us on the sand. Tall and willowy, this one has dirty-blond hair and two runes decorating his neck. “And you’re invited as its ass. Down!”
I hit the sand just as a flicker of Tye’s magic makes the crossbows start firing in a chain, each deadly bolt aiming for the bar where Tye tumbles. My pulse rushes so quickly, the world blinks around me, but Tye never slows, never breaks the dance of power and precision. One arm drops to let a bolt fly past. The other. The male launches himself off the bar, a third bolt piercing the space his head occupied only a heartbeat earlier.
