Page 21 of War Hour

Chapter 10

Aweek has passed since my Trialing. I haven’t once glimpsed Ardis... or Cenna. The latter of which hurts me more than I allow myself to admit. Save for the few hours of night, when the deathly silence pulls strangled sobs from me with no one to bear witness.

Pain festers like reopening a healing wound as I lose her all over again. The only thing keeping me from succumbing to my renewed grief are my hopeful reassurances.

She’s in the upper city. I’ll see her again.

Anything and everything that I do feels like a betrayal. A betrayal of who I am—or at least who I was.

I walk the halls of the compound, learning it like I did the streets—as if it could ever be my new home. Treated as an equal by guards who once terrorized me. I sleep in a nice bed, with a cushy mattress and soft sheets, provided with necessities that have always been luxuries to me. Even the untouched guard uniform in my dormitory feels expensive to the touch.

I’m ashamed of the fleeting moments when I don’t hate it. Each time I taste another dessert I’ve never had, it sinks to my stomach like a lead weight, poisoned by guilt and anger.

Lord Drytas let Untrialed starve. People on the streets challenge themselves daily on how little they can eat. Yet, here, I could spend a whole day, from six in the morning to nine at night, feasting with no end.

I consider stashing some away and sneaking into the streets to hand out whatever I can carry. It’s not like anyone here would notice, but as a freshly Trialed recruit of the Guard, I’m not allowed out without supervision. Not to the upper city, nor the lower streets.

I let my anger fuel me as I walk around, learning, memorizing everything. Directions, exits, how many guards are on duty at a time—information I’m not sure what to do with, but it makes me feel like I’m doing something other than what Lord Drytas wants.

His interest in my power taints any excitement I might have had.

With Ardis scarce to be found, I work on summoning the shield again, pressure only growing. Nothing. Not even a hint of the power at my fingertips. If I hadn’t seen for myself the damage unfolding from me in the throne room, I wouldn’t believe that I have one at all.

It’s cruel—to have a power meant to protect myself locked away, out of reach, while defenseless behind enemy lines.

“Lysta.”

A cold voice calls my name, breaking my trance as I walk the corridors of the grand hall.

I stop in my tracks, turning stiffly to Belthan, who smirks at me. “Belthan. Did you need something?” Hand lacing behind my back, I hide any hint of the fear that swirls at the head of the Guard’s cruel grin.

Belthan studies me, quirking his head to one side as he drawls, “Nothing for me, but Lord Drytas was hoping for an update on your training. Any notable progress for me to report?”

He eyes me with amusement flickering in his stare, as if he already knows I haven’t had any training, my power just as unrefined as a week ago. His gleam reminds me of a predator watching for its prey to make a fatal mistake.

Hopefully, I’ve yet to make mine.

With every morsel of respect I can muster in my tone, I conjure an answer that may pacify him temporarily. “Regretfully, none so far, but I’m hoping for more progress in the coming weeks.”

Belthan chuffs a laugh, and I startle at the loud noise. Wide eyes flickering up and down the hall, I brace for what will follow.

“Weeks will not work for his lord. There have been some changes to our plans, and he will need you at his side and competent much sooner than expected.”

My face goes blank, a mask for the flurry of thoughts racing behind it. Even if I don’t have a hint as to Lord Drytas’s plans, I can be sure they won’t be good if he needs my power for them.

“We don’t even know if it’s possible for me to use the shield like he wants.”

Belthan only smirks at my irritation, shrugging before adding, “Well, then, you better figure it out quickly, or heads will roll, Lysta.” He turns away from me, walking down the hall, his voice echoing against the stone walls. “And it won’t be mine.”

Belthan’s threatfollows me to every corner of the grand hall, ringing in my ears as I search hastily for Ardis.

Maybe if I’d spent the last week actually looking for him instead of trying to figure out my powers myself, I wouldn’t be in this position.

With the places he could be dwindling, I check the last place I want to return to—the Trial hall. After all, Ardis’s reward for bringing me in was to be allowed to be Trialed, at his request.

The torches lighting the way to the Trial entrance are extinguished, letting shadows overwhelm the space. The scuffing of my shoes on the floor echoes off the walls. The hall, now empty, is just as ominous as it had been the morning of my Trial.

A gasp escapes my mouth when the entrance comes into sight. The large circular glass door of the Trial is shattered. As I get closer, cracks all centering at the handprint in the center and streaming outwards becomes prominent.

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