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)
“Don’t we need to go to weapon’s training after we eat?” I ask. It has been a few days, and our schedules often shift around, but I’m pretty sure I remember that much.
"Is canceled,” Brunhild says, wiping something slick from her fingertips. “Someone accidentally spill cooking oil all over classroom floor. Too slippery to fight."
I stare at her. "Did you do that just so we had time to train together?"
"Brunhild has no control over where oil spills.”
I glance at her boots and see dark stains on them, then grin. "Right. Thanks, Brunhild."
She grunts in acknowledgment before stealing a slice of meat from Beck's plate. He watches her with puppy-like adoration, not even protesting the theft.
"Any news about Malakai's weapon stash?" I ask in a hushed voice, leaning toward Mireen.
Mireen shakes her head slightly. "Not here," she murmurs. "Too many ears."
I nod, understanding. Trust is in short supply these days, especially with the Crucible so close. I scan the dining hall, noting Malakai's contingent seated across the room. His one remaining eye meets mine briefly, his face twisted in a glare like usual. Serena has moved to stand beside him and is whispering something in his ear, her eyes never leaving me. The message couldn't be clearer: I'm their target, and they're not bothering to hide it.
Rumors may have swirled about me being dead, but they see I'm not, now, and I'm sure they'll be folding my death back into their plans as soon as possible.
My gaze shifts to the legacies' table, where Bastian sits surrounded by his peers. When he notices me looking, he gives a nearly imperceptible nod.
The conversation spans everything from class assignments, developments in our elemental training, the latest gossip about a rumor that Sestra and Pilton used to sleep together. The idea is about as believable to me as our table growing legs and running off, but the story is at least an amusing distraction.
After we finish eating, Mireen leans close to my ear. "Meet us in the eastern tower storage room in half an hour. We'll fill you in on everything while Brunhild trains you."
I nod, rising from the table. "I'll see you all there."
"You cannot trust them fully, but they are at least marginally useful," Typhon observes as I navigate through the dining hall.
"They're my friends, Typhon. Not just tools to be used. And I do trust them fully."
"Friendship is merely a form of mutual usefulness with emotional attachment complicating matters unnecessarily."
I smile at his cynicism, even as I feel a whisper of something warmer beneath it—something almost like fondness. The ancient water dragon rarely means what he says, and the tether constantly betrays the softness beneath his cold words.
As I exit the dining hall, I catch sight of Bastian slipping away from his table. He moves with the casual grace of someone accustomed to drawing attention while simultaneously knowing how to vanish when needed. Our eyes meet briefly across the corridor, and I know he wants me to follow.
I hesitate. Raith had been clear that we should approach Bastian together, but this might be my only chance to speak with him alone before the Crucible. After a moment's deliberation, I trail after him, maintaining enough distance to avoid suspicion.
He leads me through a series of corridors and up a narrow stairwell I've never noticed before, eventually emerging onto a small balcony overlooking the northern forests. The view is breathtaking—endless trees stretching to the horizon, their bare branches casting harsh silhouettes.
"We won't have long before someone notices I’m missing," Bastian says without preamble. "What did Voss want?"
I lean against the stone railing, considering how much to share. "Bastian… I still don’t know if I trust you. Not completely.”
"I gave you the book. I helped you disguise your mark. I haven't told anybody what you are. What more do you want?”
I chew my lip. "Yes... well, I think it's still smart to be safe with my trust. You're practically a stranger to me.”
"That doesn't matter. Being your friend would only make things worse for you. I know what you are, and I am motivated to keep you alive. Distrust me if you want, but all you need to do is look at my behavior to see I'm not lying. A word to my father about what you are and you would've been taken from your bed in the night, Nessa. That is something you can trust. You’re here. You’re breathing. You’re still walking this campus freely. Trust that."
His pure white eyes hold mine, and I feel a coldness creep into my bones. I believe him.
"So help me help you,” Bastian says softly. “Tell me what Voss wanted."
I hesitate for several moments. "He knows what I am," I admit finally. "He's been helping me understand my abilities."
Bastian's expression doesn't change, but I sense a subtle tension in his shoulders. "Has he asked you to do anything unusual?"