Total pages in book: 214
Estimated words: 195876 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 979(@200wpm)___ 784(@250wpm)___ 653(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 195876 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 979(@200wpm)___ 784(@250wpm)___ 653(@300wpm)
I can't even remember when the last time Bastian directly spoke with me was. He was there to break up the fight a few days ago, but he hasn't been checking in with me anymore. I wonder if he's conflicted about keeping me a secret from his father. It certainly sounded like his father would have wanted to know he was helping an unbound develop her powers by handing over old secret family books.
But why is he protecting me, too?
"Earth to Nessa," Beck says, waving his hand in front of my face. "You still with us?"
"Sorry, just thinking about... everything." I hesitate, torn between wanting to warn my friends and needing to keep Raith's confidence. "The Crucible is going to be more dangerous than usual this year."
"How do you know that?" Mireen asks, frowning.
I know I'm already keeping more secrets than I'd like from my friends, but everything new I learn just feels like it would put them in more danger. Still, I can give them the information without admitting where it actually came from. "Raith heard some older students talking. They said the number of alliances Malakai and Serena are forming is really unusual. And the fact that they're recruiting across affinities isn't normal. They're worried the Crucible is going to be more like a war than a bunch of small skirmishes. Like Malakai's people are going to go hunting for us and only worry about finishing the Crucible after we're all dead."
"Fuck," Beck breathes. "That's grim." Then he scoops a huge mouthful of soup into his mouth and belches loudly.
"We stick together," Mireen says. "As long as we're together, we'll be okay, right?"
"Technically not true," Ambrose says. "If we're ambushed by fifty of Malakai's people, it won't really matter if we're together. We'll still be dead. Just… dead together."
I grin. "I think she was trying to make us feel better, Ambrose. Not speaking literally."
"Oh," Ambrose says. "Right. Together. We can all die together, like Mireen said."
I think about telling them more of what I've learned—about the siphons or even finally coming clean about what I am. More and more, I think I'll have to tell them before long or I'll burst. I know they'll all understand, too, which only makes it harder to keep the secrets.
Not yet, though. I think I’ll know when the time is right. When it feels like it’s more dangerous to keep them in the dark than tell them the truth. And I have an intuition that time is coming faster than I realize.
"Raith and I went to the quarry yesterday," I say instead, immediately regretting the admission when three pairs of eyes snap to me. "Just... reconnaissance. For the Crucible."
"You left campus?" Mireen asks, eyes wide before she smiles and then whacks my arm. "You dog. Got tired of fucking in your bed?"
"We were trying to scout," I say defensively.
"Scouting," Beck adds with a knowing look. "What was your scouting report on the contents of his pants? Find any fire serpents?"
"You guys are unbelievable." I want to be annoyed with them, but find myself laughing a little. Before coming here, I would've thought it was impossible to make jokes and be light when your life was under threat at all times. Now, though? Now I see it's the exact opposite.
If we didn't find ways to occasionally pretend everything was normal, we'd all have lost our minds by now.
"Well," Ambrose says slowly. "If nothing else, I think we can say for absolute certain now that Raith isn't planning on killing Nessa any time soon. One could've argued he was worried about being caught if he did it on school grounds. You went outside the walls with him. Alone. And you're still alive. Reckless, but alive."
Mireen nods. "I hate to say it, but I agree. I think we can trust him for now."
I look down at my stew, suddenly fascinated by a floating carrot. "He's... not what everyone thinks."
"You would know," Mireen tucks a loose coppery-colored hair that falls from her braid, blue eyes locked on me. "The two of you spend quite a bit of time 'training.'"
I shrug, aiming for nonchalance. "He's good with blades."
"Oh, yeah," Beck says with a suggestive wiggle of his eyebrows. "He shows you how good he is at sheathing his sword a time or two, does he?"
My cheeks burn. "It's not like that. I've told you all millions of times."
"Your blush says otherwise," he teases.
"I do admire him," I admit, hoping a scrap of truth will throw them off the scent. "And he's obviously handsome. But he's not remotely interested in me, so it's pointless. Even if I did want there to be more between us, that's never going to happen."
"Right," Beck drawls, clearly unconvinced. "And I'm just friends with Brunhild."
"That's different," I protest. "You two are actually—"
"Screwing like rabbits?" he supplies helpfully. "Yes, we are. And loving every minute of it."