Page 8 of Great Falls Protector
I look up at the sun to gauge the time. “Since about three—no, three and a half—hours ago. Now get out of my way.”
Tye shoves me, the unexpected malice in it sending me backward to fall ungracefully onto the sand. I gasp, the small puffs of sand rising about me now sticking to my sweat-drenched uniform. “You are not welcome here, Osprey.” He glares down at me, shaking his head. Then his voice lowers. “Either get yourself gone, or it will be done for you in a way I promise you will little like.”
Without waiting for a response, he turns his back to me and walks out of the arena, his heels kicking up grains of sand. Catching sight of Katita waiting for him in the entrance and their exchanged nods, I know the warning was as much from her as from Tye.
Despite the shield of anger encasing my heart, my throat closes. No amount of Coal’s harsh hand knocking me on my backside compares to being discarded by someone who still holds a piece of my soul.
6
Lera
By the time I collect a fresh uniform from my room and drag myself to the baths before midday meal, everyone seems to have heard about the new change in the Prowess roster—and not a single soul seems happy about it.
“She rigged it, you know.” The girl’s words, mixing with the steamy air, seem to press on me from all directions. “Katita was out of sorts last night, so of course, Osprey pounced on it.”
“Why did Han even entertain that bit of rubbish after the lies she spread about Tyelor?” another girl answers.
“Maybe she offered him something. Down below.” The first girl’s voice drops. “I wager she is only on the team long enough for a certain cock to deflate.”
Hating my immortal ears, I rebraid my annoyingly thick hair as quickly as possible, finish buttoning my tunic, and slip quickly from the bathhouse into the muggy outside air for the too short walk to the dining hall—where I can look forward to the company of my new teammates surrounding me once more. Less than half a day on the Prowess team and I’m already homesick for Arisha’s company and Coal’s morning brutality.
The tall stone buildings on every side of the courtyard seem to press in tighter now, invisible eyes peering out of every window, waiting for me to fail.
“Lady Lera of Osprey.” Rik’s low, self-satisfied voice catches me in the back, making me flinch. When he and Puckler catch up to me in the shadow of the arena’s towering wall, our identical uniforms turn my stomach. “You will, of course, do us the honor of allowing us to escort you to the dining hall?”
Given that my last meaningful interaction with Katita’s royal cousins involved a brawl in the stable where one of them tried to stick a horse bit into my mouth, I don’t even bother feigning friendliness and quicken my pace. I might have to share a table with the bastards, but I don’t have to breathe the same air as them a moment longer than that. “Difficult as the feat may appear, I can manage to find the mess hall on my own. So be good little lapdogs, and run along to Katita.”
“Is that any way to talk to your new teammates, for however short a time?” On my right, Puckler moves so close that his arm presses into mine while his twin mirrors the motion on the other side. Their heavy bodies, rather than leaning down through training, have only gained more mass—they’ll be the Prowess team’s best weapons in the wrestling and strength categories. Puckler’s voice drops. “We are under orders from Han to make sure you’re seen appearing at the dining hall in team company. Personally, I’d rather be wiping my boots with your blood, but I’m not about to cross Han for the pleasure. At least not until we have your arse flying so far through the air from Prowess, you’ll need a map just to find the ground again.”
My jaw tightens. As much as I want to tell the pair off again, keeping close to the royals was the whole point of joining the team, so I can hardly complain about Han doing half my work for me. Forcing a smile—which I hope will irritate the hell out of the cousins—I offer the pair a mocking bow. “Then I will savor the honor of your company for as long as I’m worthy.”
The brothers exchange too-knowing glances. “Fortunately for everyone, I’d not worry about having to savor the honor for too long, Lady Lera.”
I stop, forcing the pair to stop with me, and twist to grab the front of Puckler’s tunic. “What exactly are you talking about?”
Puckler pulls his lapel free of my grip, dusting off the invisible dirt I supposedly left behind. He quirks one dark brow, the curved scar at its corner seeming to smile with the movement. “I know better than to use the privilege of my position and run my mouth with the Academy’s official news before it’s been announced. You’ll be told soon enough.”
My stomach clenches, and I turn back to the cobblestone path quickly, hoping the pair might not notice the renewed tension gripping my neck. The last time Sage had official news, it was to bring the Prowess Trials down atop our heads. A small voice in the back of my head tries to tell me that the pair are full of horseshit, as they always are, but the sight of Sage—who tends to take meals in the privacy of his own suite—seated comfortably in the dining hall makes that thought disappear.
Of course, the only empty chair at the team’s table is next to Tye, who pushes it away from him with his foot just as I approach. His fresh pine-and-citrus scent washes over me, bringing stinging dread now instead of pleasure. My body still recognizes its mate in that scent, still wants to react with every nerve firing, but I have to start protecting myself.
On the other side of the table, Katita smiles at me like a cat with a bowl of cream. At least she and Tye are not sitting together. Even with this cavernous distance between Tye and me, the hard wall in his eyes, I can’t shake the dull pain that washes over me whenever I see them together—which seems to be all the time these days.
Ignoring the princess, I move my chair back into place and frown at the food, which is already on the table. Unlike the rest of the cadets, who choose meats and breads and cheeses from the offerings along the dining room wall, the Prowess table’s fine red tablecloth is covered with unappetizing slabs of bland chicken and bowls of steamed, saltless peas. Reaching for the metal pitcher to pour myself a drink, I find water in place of the freshly squeezed juices I know the others are sipping now.
Feeling Tye’s malice-laced amusement, I serve myself from the platters. If he can eat this, so can I. I certainly ate worse during my servitude to Zake, even if my new immortal senses remind me just how much the food resembles performance feed assembled for prized show animals. I’m about to consume my first forkful of near-mashed peas when Headmaster Sage taps a fork against his glass for attention. His bald head shines under the chandeliers, his hooked nose casting a deep shadow over his face.
“My lords and ladies, good day,” he says in his usual nasally voice. “With our esteemed royal guests and athletes arriving within days to watch the Academy’s first hosted Prowess event, I remind you that this is our greatest chance to show all the continent our athletic abilities, but also our academic prowess. In deference to these unusual circumstances, I will allow any student who feels too nervous to attempt the final exams before such an audience to self-select themselves out of the Academy now and re-enroll to repeat this year in the fall. Any student who attempts the final oral exams and fails, however, will be expelled immediately and without recourse. Please consider which course of action is right for you as you finish the meal.”
As Sage sits, a sharp murmur of conversation rises around the dining hall at once—though none from those at my table, who don’t seem surprised. I stare at the contents of my fork, which still hovers awkwardly in the air. So this is what Katita was so self-satisfied about. Whether I fail the exams or self-select myself out, the effect will be the same by the start of the Prowess Trials—I will no longer be on the Academy’s team.
As brilliant as Katita’s plan is, it is not her I’m worried about. It’s River. He watches me at the Prowess table with such a lack of emotion in his gray eyes that whatever appetite I managed to summon fails at once.
Watching him walk stiffly out of the dining hall’s side door, I swallow my food as quickly and silently as basic decorum permits, and, with a murmur about needing to get a book, excuse myself into the keep’s long stone corridor. Afternoon light slants in through high slit windows, a stern reminder of the Academy’s former life as a military fortress. Instead of turning toward the library at the far end of the walkway, I turn toward the large male making a study of one of the paintings hanging on the wall. His dark brown hair, usually so neat, is mussed on one side, evidence of stressed fingers combing through it. His body is straight and regal, but exhaustion rides in the shadows under his eyes—and something more, something so rare in that perfect face that it makes my insides cramp. Fear.
Coming up beside the deputy headmaster, I place my hands behind my back and hope that the words that have eluded me since Sage’s announcement will miraculously spark to mind now. They don’t.
Which means I don’t know how to explain to River why I’m seemingly throwing out the months of time and effort he’s invested in me. And not just that—months ofhimself. I know he’s shared pieces of himself with me in that study that he never has with anyone else, save his imaginary wife.
