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)
There’s a pause around the table and then Beck breaks it by raising his mug toward us. “To being the good guys, then.”
Mireen’s smile is crooked. “To being the good guys. And all the people who died, giving us far more rooms to choose from and ample closet space.”
Ambrose nods seriously and sticks his cup out. “To being the good guys. Not what Mireen said.”
“Rude,” Mireen mutters.
I clank mine with the other cups. “To being the good guys.”
After we’ve all taken a sip, Ambrose frowns. “So we’ll wait and see with Malakai. Where do we stand with Raith and Bastian, though, Nessa? Can we count them as allies?"
They heard the part about Bastian saving me and Raith in the elemental plane, but this is the first time they've asked about him beyond the usual teasing when he has gone out of his way to say something to me in public.
"I think we can trust Raith." My voice wavers just slightly, and I feel my cheeks warm again. I seriously need to get whatever that reaction is under control.
"And Bastian… I'm still not sure. I'm not sure I fully trust any of the legacies."
"But you trust a fire?" Mireen asks. Her tone is sharp, and she lets out a soft sigh. "Sorry. I know the two of you went through something together in there. I just… have trouble believing we can trust him."
"I get that. But he has had so many chances to kill me, now. I can't see what his game could be if he really is an enemy. Why leave me alive for so long only to come after me later?"
"I don't know," Mireen says. "But I still think we should all keep our guard up. Anybody except the four of us is a question mark. And here? Question marks can kill you.”
Beck raises his cup with a goofy smile. "Another toast!”
Ambrose groans, but grips his cup.
“To surviving,” Beck says. “Even when death tried really, really hard to get us. And to our new friends. Uther, Akaron, Ollie, and… what did you call him again? Oceanus?"
"He will use my proper name, or I will show him the price of his disrespect."
"He knows it's not your real name, Typhon. He's just trying to keep us safe. Remember?"
Typhon says nothing, but I sense resignation through the tether.
"Right," I say. "Oceanus."
"To them," Beck says.
We all clatter our glasses together. And though the mood is celebratory all around us, I worry the relief we all feel is only temporary. Tomorrow, I'll still be unbound. I'll still have to figure out how to navigate my time here without revealing that deadly secret to anyone. I'll still know Bastian and Raith know exactly what I am and Malakai wants me dead.
Across the dining hall, I catch a glimpse of Rector Voss watching our table, his expression unreadable. As our eyes meet, he gives me a slight nod, his lips curving into a smile that doesn't reach his eyes.
Something about his attention makes the hair on my arms stand up.
"Your heart rate has increased," Typhon observes. "What troubles you?"
"I don't know. Just a feeling." I shake my head and turn my attention back to my food. Soon, I'll need to figure out how I'm going to keep myself and the people I care about alive.
But for today? For one brief moment, I can allow myself a moment to feel relief.
We all did it. We all fucking survived.
15
Two months after Confluence Day, and I still sometimes do a double take when I see myself in the black aspirant uniform trimmed in silver. My hair is getting longer, but I keep it braided close and tight. Otherwise, opponents will use it against me in the sparring ring.
The tanned skin I had my whole life from days on the waters has faded to be more pale. My lean, wiry frame has filled out, too. Now, when I look at myself, I can actually see… a warrior. Someone strong. Someone who might have handled the way things happened in Saltcrest differently. Would the person I’m becoming just hang her head and let my sister and mother ignore me? Would she accept all the blame for something she couldn’t control?
I’m still not sure, but I can feel I’m changing. Hardening.
I lean closer, inspecting my eyes. They’re a deep blue like most water affinities, but they’ve always been. The change is when I look close enough, there are flecks of silver, like the reflection of stars across the sea at night. I have no doubt the silver is from my unbound affinity. Nobody has mentioned them, and I hope it stays that way.
I move away from the mirror and snatch up my practice rapier, strapping it to my hip for easy access. I train with it every day, and unlike my first few weeks here at Confluence, I rarely go to sleep aching or bruised anymore. I might even go as far as to say I'm getting pretty damn good with the thing.