Page 3 of Great Falls Protector
2
Lera
“MEAWRRR!” With a battle cry that far exceeds his tiny body, Minion leaps off the arena scaffolding, bounces off Coal, and lands in Arisha’s arms.
Coal and I step away in unison, into the shadow of the towering bleachers.
In the brightly shining sun that makes my underclothes stick to my skin, the new arena looms over the Academy’s vast central courtyard, an oval monstrosity of soaring wooden struts, canvas-walled changing rooms for each team’s athletes, and a tall white-tented platform on one side where Sage and his most honored guests will watch the ceremonies. And, in just a few days’ time, the students’ final exams.
Where before the massive structure only annoyed me, now it makes my breath come short. The plan I hatched last night feels like an absurd dream this afternoon, presided over by this abomination of wood, canvas, and steel.
The grandiose stadium is just one of many changes to sweep over Great Falls, transforming the Academy grounds from a somber, orderly fortress to…whatever this is. The smells of sawdust and ovens working overtime permeate everything now, drowning out summer grass and nodding flowers. And as if the construction sounds and constant buzz of voices weren’t disrupting enough, we have to build in extra time to get from the dining hall back to the library, where we’re headed now for a postlunch Guild meeting, as we can’t simply cut across the grass anymore.
No corner of the Academy has been left untouched. Every spare room of the keep is being set up into suites for the soon-to-come royals, and most of the east practice rings have been disassembled to create a separate riding arena for the equine events. Their brightly painted jumping fences are already in place. Colorful flags representing every kingdom, the Prowess Trials, and the Academy itself hang from seemingly every surface and tree limb, the ribbons catching on branches as often as fluttering in the wind. Thesnap snap snapof standards is so voluminous to my immortal hearing that it feels like an invasion of tiny drummers has settled into every nook and cranny.
The Prowess Trials, I’ve learned, divide into three disciplines: control, combat, and constitution. Control, by far the premier tier of the competition, has athletes of Tye’s caliber navigating their bodies through spectacular, and seemingly incompatible-with-life, feats. Far below that, combat includes the swordsmanship, horseback riding, and archery competitions, while constitution includes the more basic running, jumping, and lifting events.
“There you are, Minion.” Arisha nuzzles the orange-striped kitten, who rubs his ears against her with pious love. “I was so worried.”
Coal rubs the three long bloody lines on the back of his hand. “ I thought Sh…Rufflewas taking care of…that,” he mutters to me with a glower, as if I have anything whatsoever to do with the fur ball. “What kind of self-respecting wolf is unable to get rid of a two-pound threat?”
Cuddled in Arisha’s arms, Minion turns his head and yawns at Coal, leisurely extending the razor-sharp claws of his front paws.
“It’s not Ruffle’s fau…” My words trail off at the sight of a lithe red-haired male exiting the keep. My whole body tightens painfully, as it always does now when I see Tye. With his fast healing and faster talking, my reporting him to Shade led only to a ten-day rest from his training regimen. Not long enough to get him pulled from the team, but plenty long enough to have him—and all the Prowess athletes—declare me their arch nemesis. “He is never going to forgive me, is he?”
“I wouldn’t,” says Coal.
Tye is his quint mate just as much as I am—which doesn’t stop me from wanting to punch Coal’s perfect mouth for siding with the bastard.
My hands tighten around the strap of my book satchel to avoid the temptation.
The helplessness thunders through me. We were never supposed to be in the Trials. If Tye had stepped aside, it would have defused the whole disaster. Bought us time to try to stop the Mors threat before more human lives are lost. Not only that… When I spoke to him in the bathhouse two months ago—the last time I truly saw him up close—Tye looked like a victim of torture, not training. Yet it is me, not Han, who he believes is out to ruin his life.
“The reason he feels so hurt is because you matter to him,” Arisha says softly, the empathy in her voice shifting to a warning that I’m tired of hearing. “Which, by the way, isn’t going to make this harebrained plan of yours any easier.”
Before I can answer, Minion hisses at someone behind me. Escaping Arisha’s hold, the kitten bounces off Coal’s shoulder and scampers away.
Coal curses, tiny spots of blood seeping down his arm from under his sleeveless black shirt. “Is it in my power to give a passing grade to any cadet who brings me that demon’s hide?”
“As of this morning, it is.” River’s deep voice twists all three of us around. My eyes widen at a bloody gash running along his strong jaw. “That thing is responsible for three of the maids leaving service.” His gray eyes shift to me, a tingling sensation running across my skin and prickling my sex as the humor in his gaze turns to an inscrutable intensity.
Over the past two months, in spite of my best efforts, River’s reined himself back to bloody professionalism, which he seems determined to hang fast to even as it kills us both. The occasional slips, like the time two weeks ago when the male brushed a stray lock of hair behind my ear without thinking, his fingers trailing down my jaw before he caught himself, have ended with blazing red cheeks and a sudden need to end the tutoring session midword, while my breath still came in short spurts.
The whole complicated compote makes me almost fear the next time our skin comes into contact, accidentally or otherwise. And long for it so fiercely, I’m worried I’ll go insane.
A direction I’m heading in presently, despite my best efforts. Stars take me, but with River’s commanding presence suddenly beside me, his impossibly tall, muscled body dominating the courtyard, even the grand arena feels small. My thighs moisten with the memory of what exactly hides under all that tailored silk—starting with a ridged abdomen and rock-hard pectorals, a taut V of muscle leading down to a—
“Good morning, ladies.” River’s polite greeting makes me jump, the hot brush of his eyes against mine leaving little doubt that my thoughts weren’t as private as I hoped. River clears his throat. “Coal. Might I have a minute of your time?”
Coal wordlessly falls in step with the commander. As the two walk away, their heads bent close in discussion, I watch their broad backs, wondering suddenly what River’s veil-clouded mind made of last night’s sudden burst of magic. Maybe there’s a way of asking about it in our next study session without sounding daft—well, any dafter than I already sound trying to explain the intricacies of Ckridel trade policy or how to measure the sides of a triangle.
Arisha’s soft murmur of confusion pulls my attention. Taking a folded piece of paper out of her pocket, she frowns. “High strike right. Pivot step left. Low parry. It goes on for a while like this.” She blinks up at me, her glasses making her look like a frizzled owl. “I just found this in my pocket. Isn’t this Coal’s writing?”
I peer at the neatly written list. Yes, the list is most certainly Coal’s. More to the point, it lists a sequence he and I have warmed up with regularly, especially in the early days of my training.
“Is this—” Arisha starts.
“A sequence that you are to memorize in case you find yourself needing to perform before an audience.” A small chuckle escapes me, and Arisha’s frown deepens. Fortunately for my friend, no exams are held for physical training, but with such an influx of visitors, there is no telling who might be watching what. For all his bickering with Arisha, Coal is quietly attempting to preserve her dignity. “I know the other side of this dance. So if we were partnered up…”
