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)
Sestra's nostrils flare as she inhales deeply, then releases a long-suffering sigh that makes Beck wince. "What difference would it make to us if you died here or in the elemental plane? The tri-emperors only concern is that we provide them with fully trained primals each year. They don't care in the slightest what happens to you here or how we produce the human weapons for their war." Her voice drops dangerously. “Have you ever wondered what would happen if the elementals decided we aren't capable of sending them worthy students fit for elemental tethers?"
Beck swallows hard enough that I can see his throat bob from where I'm sitting. He shakes his head, leaning back so far in his seat that he might topple over any second.
I have a strict policy of never speaking unless directly called on in classes—being noticed here is rarely a good thing—but I can't stand watching Beck squirm any longer. I clear my throat, my voice sounding foreign to my own ears as the words tumble out.
"They might start going to Red Kingdom's side, instead?"
The words hang in the air long enough for me to regret them.
Sestra whirls, surprise etched across her face. I've been here five weeks, and this might be the first time I've said more than absolutely necessary in front of the class. Just as I feared, the unwanted attention ripples outward—including to the back edge of the room where Malakai watches me with narrowed eyes, his head tilted in assessment. Both of his student soldiers flank him, still as statues but equally attentive now.
My skin crawls under their scrutiny. Stupid, stupid, stupid. I should have kept my mouth shut.
"Nessa Thorne..." Sestra glides from Beck's desk—which prompts him to finally breathe again and slump forward with visible relief—and approaches me with measured steps. "You are... correct. Surprisingly," she adds under her breath.
Her eyes hold mine for a terrifyingly long moment, dissecting me like a specimen under glass.
"If only your skills in channeling weren't so dismal, I would say your flash of insight shows some actual potential."
The barb stings, but I keep my face carefully blank. She's not wrong. Next to my classmates, my abilities are pathetically underdeveloped. I’ve learned I have to physically touch water or somebody full of water essence to channel it. Considering I can’t participate in channeling class while submerged in water, it has hardly been an advantage.
Sestra finally turns her attention back to the class, freeing me from her scrutiny. "As Miss Thorne helpfully pointed out, we're not interested in encouraging you to kill one another. Our job is to shape you into weapons. Your job is to be worthy if you survive to Confluence Day. It's to avoid bringing shame on the academy and all the history that has preceded you. It’s to become worthy of the incredible power of a primal."
I exhale slowly, trying to steady my racing pulse.
After class, Mireen grips my shoulders and bulges her eyes dramatically, the crescent scar under her left eye crinkling as she smirks. "Since when are you the one calling out answers?" she asks, her eyes dancing with amusement. “Decided it’s finally time for people to realize how clever you are?”
Ambrose slides up beside her, pushing his wire-rimmed glasses up with one finger and crossing his arms. His dark hair is cut so precisely it might have been measured with a ruler.
"Not to take away from your little moment," he says, his voice carrying that blend of arrogance and affection I've come to expect from him, "but was it really that genius of an insight? I was like... two seconds away from coming to the same conclusion myself."
"Of course you were," I mutter, rolling my eyes, but not without a small smile.
"Hey," a deep voice says, and I turn to see Beck's blue eyes—the same shade that all water affinities eventually develop, though mine were this color from birth. "Thanks for saving my ass back there."
"Oh," I say, suddenly awkward under his grateful gaze. "It was nothing. I couldn’t watch her pick on you like that."
"Yeah, well," Beck shrugs with a stack of books clutched in one hand. "I appreciate it all the same. There's enough distrust and scheming going on amongst ourselves as it is. It's nice to see somebody showing a little fucking camaraderie for once."
I share a quick look with Ambrose and Mireen, a silent conversation passing between us.
Can we trust him?
I sense uncertainty from both of them. Lately, we don't know who is working with Malakai and maybe even Serena. There's a dark alliance growing within our affinity and possibly between them. Anybody could be part of it.
And yet... I hate the way fear is making us turn on each other. The fear has been isolating us, driving people into smaller and smaller groups that are easier for Malakai to target. What we need is to show strength and prove we'll still band together despite their reign of fear.