Page 114 of Grim and Oro
She tries to guess herself, sometimes. I’ve always told her some people are good liars. Some peoplebelievetheir lies, which makes them hard to decipher.
Enya thinks my flair is incredible. A gift.
More often than not, I feel it’s a curse. Like when I ask questions I don’t want the answers to.
“Ready?” she asks, pulling me toward the golden castle. The only good thing about starting training early is that we’re in the same year now.
“No,” I say truthfully, because my own lies feel bitter on my tongue.
PROPHECY
I slide down an amber tree. I can feel the bruise already forming around my left eye. A trail of blood is crusted down my arm. My cheek burns. A bone in my hand is definitely broken.
It’s a week into our training, and we’re in the middle of a challenge—a race to the other side of the isle, in teams.
Barely an hour into the race, one of our classmates—a tall Sunling named Ash, with freckled skin, golden hair, and a raving obsession with bloodshed—leaped onto me from one of the trees, knocking me down. He and two friends pinned me to the dirt. Enya leaped forward, but I shook my head at her, just as five more of the Sunling group stepped out of the brush.
“Let’s see if he bleeds red like the rest of us,” Ash said, before producing a jagged rock from his pocket. He pressed its edge to my arm and sliced down the length of it. The pain was blinding. Burning. The skin cut instantly.
And, to the fool’s delight, I did bleed red.
Idiot.
He smirked. “I heard royal blood is different, but yours doesn’t look special. Not at all. Guess you’re just like the rest of us.”
He was lucky I was trying to bejust like the rest of them, because under normal circumstances, this entire forest would be full of flame. He would be just ash at my feet.
And that’s the problem.
Enya was getting restless. I could feel the heat of her anger, as she studied the group. She was looking for a way to take them down. To free me. But the last thing we needed was to make enemies of a quarter of our training class in the first week.
“Guess I am,” I said, making to stand. Not wanting to cause any trouble.
Ash kicked me back down, his foot pressed into my chest. “Maybe we just need more blood,” he said. He looked at the group around him. “Get more rocks. The sharper, the better,” he snapped.
A few disappeared into the forest. Only three remained.
And that’s when Enya took a rock the size of her head and smashed it over Ash’s skull.
He fell to the ground in a heap, instantly unconscious, blood forming a puddle.
So much for not making enemies.
I stood slowly, staring at Enya, not sure if I wanted to thank her, ask her what the hell she was thinking, or laugh. Before I could open my mouth, one of Ash’s friends was lunging toward Enya, sharp rock in hand.
And that’s when I decided that yes, peace among my class was going to be impossible.
That’s when I broke a nose, cut open a chin, and left a Sunling gasping for air on the ground, before we ran like hell out of that forest.
Now, panting against these trees, Enya whirls to face me. “Why didn’t you defend yourself?”
“I did.”
She rolls her eyes. “You defendedme.”
So? I shrug a shoulder. She takes a frustrated step toward me—
And the quiet of the forest is interrupted by a distant yell. Enya curses.
