by Lori M. Lee
“You can have them,” I said, pushing the bread at him.
He shook his head. “You’re not supposed to leave the hall. Didn’t you read the rules? What are you going to do if we’re expelled?”
I had read the rules. Just not all of them.
“You left, too,” I pointed out.
“I’ve never had very good judgment.”
Once we were safely inside the arena lobby, I let myself relax and considered the food in my hands. “I wonder if I could mail this to the Labyrinth.”
“Would they even eat it?”
My neighbors in the East Quarter were notoriously suspicious, especially of anything and anyone outside its claustrophobic walls. Usually, that was a good thing. “Maybe if it came with my name on it.”
“Probably not a good idea to broadcast where you are.”
“Fair point. Guess you’ll have to help me finish it, then.”
I dropped off the sweets and fruit in my room but took the bread with me. Avan and I shared it on the way to the training center, and we agreed it was the best bread we’d ever eaten. Even the bread delivered daily to Avan’s shop was a few days old and sometimes bordering on inedible.
The bakeries sold fresh bread only to those living in the Upper Alley, the sort of neighborhood Tariza had come from. Once the bread grew stale, they sold it to the rest of us for twice the amount of credits.
The training facility was made up of a series of rooms, closed off from one another to maintain privacy between teams. We found Grene’s and Tariza’s names written on the door of Room 8 and went inside. Two horizontal wooden beams were mounted in the center. Grene stood balanced on top of one, twirling on one foot, her arms poised over her head. She did a neat flip along the beam, her body bending like a blade of grass. If I tried to bend like that, I’d break. Tariza, meanwhile, did one-handed pull-ups on the other beam. His bicep and neck muscles bulged.
“Glad we’re not fighting them,” Avan said, echoing my earlier thoughts.
I laughed. It drew Tariza’s attention as he dropped to the floor and massaged the corded muscles in his arm.
“You’re awake!” Grene said, flipping off the beam and landing on her feet.
Avan must have told them I’d gone for a nap. “Yeah. I need to warm up for my match.”
“Me, too. Let’s spar. I’ll bet you’re really good.” She led me over to an open space near the wall.
Avan and Tariza went off to spar on the opposite side of the room. Avan almost looked excited.
Grene was a good fighter. She struck and then danced out of reach, as fluid and slippery as a fish.
She wasn’t as fast as I was, but it still took all my concentration to block her kicks. I hit back with only partial effort. I didn’t actually want to hurt her.
“So you and Savorn were childhood friends?” Grene asked, blocking my punch. She slid sideways, leg arcing up in a kick. I caught her leg and shoved, but she was too nimble to lose her balance.
“Yeah,” I said.
She beamed and darted back in. “You joined the Academy together? That’s so sweet.”
Even had that been the truth, I didn’t see what was so sweet about it. And anyway, she had the wrong idea about me and Avan. Maybe.
“I guess.”
“It’s great that you guys made it so far,” she said in that perky voice. “I mean, how generous is it that the opportunities of Watchmen are given even to those of your standi— Oof!”
My fist connected with her stomach. She flew back, skidding across the floor, blond hair flying all over her face.
I immediately felt guilty. Because of where she grew up, Grene couldn’t help thinking the way she did. I hurried over and knelt at her side. “Are you okay? I—”
“Great hit,” she said, grinning up at me as she rubbed her stomach. She winced. I felt even worse. I helped her up. “Again?” she asked.
“I’m going to head to the prep room,” I said. “You guys can stay here and train if you want.”
“No way. We have to come support you,” she said, patting down her hair. “Guys!”
Avan and Tariza were circling each other, their expressions intense. I couldn’t tell if they were taking their sparring seriously or if they were angry about something. It must have been the first one, because at Grene’s shout, Tariza broke into a smile and slapped Avan across the back.
The whole way to the prep room, my heartbeat felt as if it was trying to shatter my rib cage. I rubbed my palms against my pants before I entered the room and scanned the occupants.
Reev wasn’t there. Disappointment replaced my anxiety. Three sentinels I didn’t recognize waited near the exit doors.
On second thought, I was glad Reev wouldn’t be overseeing my match. I wouldn’t be able to concentrate with his eyes on me, pretending he had no idea who I was.
When my time arrived, the Watchman sent me through the doors leading out to the arena floor. This arena was different from Avan’s, which had been plain, packed dirt. Trimmed grass and a circle of hedges made up our fighting field. At the opposite end of the green stood a tall, wiry boy. He smirked when he saw me.
I used to like being underestimated. It kept me and my secret safe. But now I wanted to wipe that smirk off his face.
In the viewing box behind me, Avan and the others appeared.
“Knock him off his feet, Nel!” Grene shouted. Maybe she wasn’t that annoying after all.
“Match number thirty-nine: Nel versus Muree.”
When the bell sounded, the boy didn’t hesitate. He charged across the field.
He threw his entire weight into his attack. I dropped low and drove my knuckles into his stomach right beneath his ribs. He grunted, bending over, the breath leaving his mouth in a sharp gasp. I kicked out at him.
His hands caught my foot and jerked me forward. I wasn’t as nimble as Grene; my other foot slid out from under me. I threw both arms up to protect my face, but his fist planted in my gut instead.
He released me, watching as I fell to my knees, panting.
“You’re not so bad,” he said, grinning. He circled me. “But now we’re even.”
I glared up at him, turning my head to keep him in sight. His leg drew back. I rolled away, shoving to my feet as another kick grazed my hip. His attacks came fast, each blow pushing me back. I staggered and then ducked left.
His heel kicked my shoulder, and I grunted as I hit the ground. The threads vibrated around me—tugging, tempting. I ignored them.
His foot came down again. I let it, gritting my teeth as his heel connected with my chest. Then I swung up and rammed my fist as hard as I could into the side of his knee. Muree cried out and toppled over with a loud oomph.
Show me you’re better than this, Mason’s voice echoed in my ear.
I may not have come here to win, but I didn’t come to get my ass kicked, either. I scrambled to my feet. Before Muree could recover, my foot smashed into his face.
He slumped over, groaned, and didn’t get up.
CHAPTER 30
GRENE AND TARIZA gawked at me and the boy on the ground. Then they erupted into excited shouts. Avan gave me a soft smile that made me feel warm and giddy. I looked away and hurried through the doors that led to the prep room.
My teammates came and buzzed around me. Tariza slapped my shoulder, and Grene jabbed enthusiastically at my ribs.
Avan’s quiet “Nice job” made the most impact, though, and I pushed my hair behind my ear, flustered.
I shared in their excitement for a little while, but with my match over, my thoughts turned to tomorrow. I had less than a day to find Reev. Now I wished I had waited to give the signal, but I had been so eager and so sure. So stupid.
We stuck around the prep room to watch Tariza’s and Grene’s matches. They both won, although Tariza had to be taken to the medical wing and checked for possible broken ribs. Avan and I promised to visit him later and begged out of running laps around the track with Grene. She gave us a knowing loo
k. But Avan only waved and pulled me along after him.
On our way to the dorms, we passed through the common room. It had a lot of space but managed to look welcoming, with two fireplaces and a bunch of thick rugs and couches. Cadets gathered around the announcement board posted above the hearth, and Avan paused to take a look.
The Tournament schedule had been recently updated with the results of the day’s matches and the next fight brackets. Tomorrow, Avan’s match was scheduled for one in the afternoon. My name had moved on to the next bracket as well, but where the name of my opponent should have been was the number 22.
“Hey,” I said, pointing to it. “What do you think this means?” I scanned the rest of the schedule and couldn’t find any other matches marked with a number.
“Maybe it’s your rank,” Avan said.
“Maybe.” I moved aside so that another cadet could get a closer look.
Avan’s hand touched my back, warm even through the tunic. “Or maybe it’s just a placeholder till they find the right match.From the way the sentinel judges looked at you, I think you managed to impress them.”
It wouldn’t have been an issue if my match was after noon, but it was at eleven. I would have to try and end it as quickly as I could in order to get us some time before our rendezvous behind the dorms.
Speaking of which, my irritation with Avan was gone. Now, I just felt guilty for not talking to him first. After all, he had chosen to risk his life by coming here with me. But I didn’t know how to tell him except to blurt it out.
Back in my room, Avan sat at my desk and began pulling out books stacked against the wall. The top one had the Ninurtan flag across the cover, and he flipped it open.
“What are you looking for?” I asked. I unbelted my tunic and placed the corded braid across the top of my dresser.
“Information about the Tournaments.”
“We’ve read all the public info on them.” The books at school were secondhand White Court texts, so they probably contained all the same information.
“We’re cadets,” he said. “There has to be some insider info here. Maybe something about how the sentinels get selected to be judges or where they stay between matches.”
It was worth a shot, so I left him to it while I bathed.
I had washed myself countless times with other girls less than five feet away, both in the Labyrinth and then in Etu Gahl. Yet now, undressing with Avan in the next room felt somehow … indecent. And thrilling.
Nothing but a slab of wood and a few feet of space separated us. Every inch of me blushed at the thought of him seeing me naked. As the room filled with steam, I allowed myself to imagine him opening the door. He would pull me against him and slide us both into the hot water—
I told myself to stop being foolish and focus on running my bath. Now wasn’t the time to indulge in fantasies.
The privacy of my own washroom was such a novelty that after I cleaned up, I soaked in the tub until my fingers wrinkled. Avan was gone when I emerged from the washroom an hour later.
I changed into another of the identical uniforms in my closet, and dropped the used one and the towel into the hatchway outside the washroom door.
We had a crude version of that in the Labyrinth, but I didn’t use it. You were never quite sure you’d get your things back clean, or whether they’d be returned at all.
I picked up Avan, who apparently had left to wash up too. When he saw me waiting out in the hall, he blushed and stepped past me. I stared at his back as we made our way toward the stairs and wondered if he’d been thinking about me in the bath, too. And now I was blushing again.
Stop it. We are here to look for Reev, I reminded myself.
Avan’s research hadn’t turned up anything useful, but the matches had ended, so there was a chance we might find Reev alone. I had no idea what sentinels did in their free time, if they had any.
“By the way,” I said, going down the stairs a couple of steps ahead of him so I wouldn’t have to see his reaction, “I turned over the manhole cover.”
“What?” His hand grabbed my arm, forcing me to stop. Pulling me off to the side, he lowered his voice. “What were you thinking? We don’t even know where Reev is or if he’ll cooperate—”
A tinge of that annoyance returned, and I thrust his hand away. “You might not believe in him, but I do. Reev will come around once I talk to him.”
Avan raked his fingers through his hair, his jaw clenching and unclenching. He didn’t look at me as he turned and started back up the stairs.
I watched him go, both angry and guilty at once. There was no point fighting over what was done, so I pushed away from the wall and continued my search for Reev.
An hour later, with no luck, I was near the prep room when the cadets began filing downstairs for dinner. With a sigh of disappointment, I joined them.
Avan was already at the table with his tray, and aside from a brief glance, he didn’t acknowledge me. My lips pinched.
Dinner consisted of the same portions and selections as this morning. Other than half a roll of bread, I’d had nothing for lunch, and my stomach was growling its displeasure. Grene and Tariza joined us a moment later.
“Nothing broken, then?” I asked as Tariza dropped his tray on the table with a clatter.
“Solid as a rock.” He tapped his knuckles against his ribs.
“The scores went up in the common room,” Grene said, taking a seat with the usual bounciness that made me think she wore springs on her feet. Weirdly enough, I was beginning to like her cheerfulness. “We’re in the top ten!”
Great. Now I also felt bad that we were going to abandon them tomorrow. They had invested their futures in the Tournament, and they genuinely wanted to become sentinels. But if they were mahjo, then we would be doing them a favor. Winning would gain them nothing but a collar.
“My parents are going to be so happy,” Tariza said. “Their request to visit was denied, so I’ll have to send them a missive. I don’t know how they would have gotten here anyway. They don’t own a Gray.”
Grene nodded sympathetically. “I’ve been to the North District once. It was so primitive. The Kahl says resources are limited, and essential renovations are done on a district-to-district basis; but when I become a sentinel, I’m going to change that.” She flipped her hair and tilted her nose. Her challenging tone made me wonder if she was used to defending that particular goal.
Her good intentions surprised me. I had figured most people joined the Academy to improve their own status, not to help those around them. The Watchmen in the Alley had certainly proven that.
“That’s admirable,” Avan said, and Grene beamed, her shoulders relaxing. I was the only one who heard what he’d left unspoken: admirable but naive. And completely useless.
As we ate, I looked around the cafeteria and the rows of cadets. How many of these kids thought like Grene? How many joined with the hope of changing Ninurta, only to end up slaves to it? My eyes connected with a pair of green ones. I paused. They belonged to a boy with short brown hair and dark skin. He glanced at me and Avan surreptitiously to keep his teammates from noticing.
I realized I knew him. The last time I had seen him was a year ago, down by a bend in the river where he and his friends hung out. I didn’t see many kids there anymore, not since he disappeared.
It seemed he recognized us as well.
Ninu must have kidnapped him for the Tournament. I wondered how much the boy knew about the sentinels and what he was—about the collar that awaited him.
His teammates chattered around him, but he remained silent, watching me and Avan.
He thought we’d been kidnapped, too.
What did they have over him to keep him here? Credits? I had talked to him a handful of times, but he didn’t seem the sort to care about that. If anything, I’d guess they threatened his family. Would it be worth it to try and get him out?
Drek. I couldn’t afford even to think it. I was here for Reev. There was nothing
I could do for anyone else. I tried to ignore the boy’s searching looks. I clenched my teeth and hoped the ache in my jaw would overpower the one in my stomach.
“I’m heading back to my room.” I couldn’t stand the weight of the boy’s eyes on me. I waved off Avan’s attempt to come with me, but he got up anyway. As we reached the cafeteria door, I froze.
Standing guard was the sentinel I’d met the morning Reev had disappeared, the one they had tried to chase off at the Labyrinth. I ducked my head, but it was too late. He’d seen me staring at him.
Then a curious thing happened. He looked away again, his expression unchanged. He hadn’t recognized me.
No, that couldn’t be right. It wasn’t a lack of recognition but a lack of … anything.
Feeling bold now, I stopped in front of him, waving my fingers to get his attention. “Hey, remember me?”
Behind me, Avan whispered, “What are you doing?”
The sentinel spared me a dismissive glance. “Lights-out in thirty minutes. Keep moving, cadet.”
“But don’t you know me? We met outside the Labyrinth. I gave your mom a letter for you. I would have asked her for one in return, but I didn’t know I’d see you again.”
He said flatly, “You’re mistaken. I have no family in the East Quarter, and I have never been assigned duties outside the White Court.”
I searched his face but couldn’t find any signs that he was lying. Or anything else hidden behind his blank expression.
“But you do,” I insisted. I had to make him admit it. “Her name is Lila Sevins. You came to the Labyrinth looking for her.”
“Move along,” he said. “Or I’ll report you for insubordination.”
“Nel, come on,” Avan said. I ground my teeth together as he led me away.
“He didn’t know who I was,” I said, yanking my arm out of Avan’s grasp. “He had no idea. And his mom—he left her in the Labyrinth. He should have heard the way she cried when I gave her the note. How could he forget her?”
“Kai,” Avan said, his voice so soft that it hurt to hear. “Remember what Mason said about burning their minds? He’s not even the same person anymore.”