“Are you ready to reveal your talents to the world?” Griffin asks.
His question brings the imminence of my new reality to the fore. I fight my visceral response to run and hide, and press my ice shard necklace against my chest. Cool for courage.
“A stubborn”—I roll my eyes—“albeit wise man once told me that someone has to decide what needs to be done, to make decisions and not turn back.” At the time, I told Griffin he didn’t have the right to choose for everyone else. But a corrupt, oppressive system should be challenged. And changed. I see that now, and I’m starting to feel the weight of the responsibility in my bones. Unfortunately, ambition isn’t limited to the noble and sane.
“No turning back.” Griffin’s gaze is potent on me, his words almost a question. We both know I can change my mind until the moment we walk out onto the sand.
I take a deep breath. I used to be so good at ignoring things. Then obligation crept up on me, along with everyone saying “Harbinger this” and “Origin that.” I gained gills and lost the ability to disregard the inevitable. Fate. Gah!
One by one, I look at my team. Warriors. Family. Friends. Jocasta and Selena are part of our effort, too, but they’re in the other room, preparing salves and potions for when we come back from our fights. Because we will come back. All of us.
“I brought us to the Agon Games. I’ll do whatever I have to do to keep everyone alive and win,” I say firmly. “Then we’ll walk into Castle Tarva—invited—and we’ll take over this realm without a war.”
Griffin nods. “When the Tarvan royals expect us to bow down before them, they’ll find they have to surrender to us instead.”
Yes!
That’s the plan, anyway.
What if it doesn’t work?
Griffin’s hands close around my waist, and my heart gives a swift little leap as he lifts me onto a nearby stool. It’s effortless, and his strength sends a ripple of awareness through me. Or maybe that’s nerves because I’m suddenly the tallest person in the room.
I swallow. Good Gods, a pedestal.
“You’ve admitted who you are. You’ve accepted what you’ll become.” Griffin lifts his face to look at me. He’s striking, tanned, and utterly masculine. Shadowed jaw. Pirate’s nose. Eyes the color of a storm. His gaze knocks into me with the force of a granite punch. “The minute you cease being afraid of yourself, there’s nothing in this world that can stop you.”
* * *
A thud rouses me from sleep. Carver’s violent oath snaps me fully awake along with everyone else in our two rooms.
I jump up and race toward the noise. My hand flies to my mouth, stifling a shocked cry.
“Cassandra!” Jocasta stops dead, sways, and then reaches for the wall, bracing herself.
Torches flicker both inside our suite and out. The door to the hallway is wide open, and Carver is lifting Cassandra’s limp form. He carries her to the nearest cot while Kato shuts the door again, throwing the inside lock with a savage curse.
I feel Griffin next to me and grab his arm, squeezing hard.
Selena leans over Cassandra to check for a pulse. When her eyes find mine, they’re filled with sympathy. “There’s nothing I can do.”
“Nothing you can do?” I repeat, desperately wanting to have misheard.
Selena shakes her head. “She has her obol. Hades will take care of her now.”
The possibility of denial, intangible to begin with, ceases to exist. Reeling in shock, I stare at Cassandra. Of course there’s no pulse. Her neck is split from ear to ear.
As if wading through a nightmare, slowly I turn to Carver. He was on watch. “What happened?” I ask.
“I heard a bang. Someone must have thrown her against the door. I opened it, and there she was. Like that.” His expression twists into something terrible. He looks down.
“Why was she out of the room?” I ask sharply.
Carver’s eyes crawl back to mine. “The three teams that were camped in the woods came in tonight. She thought she could get a look at them.”
“By doing what?” My voice hardens with anger. Distress. Disbelief. “Breaking into their rooms? If anyone snuck into our suite, we’d kill first, ask questions never!”
Carver looks at Cassandra’s bloodless face, his own face turning completely blank. My heart pounds furiously against my ribs a dozen times before he meets my eyes again. “She said she’d stay in the hallway, see if anyone came out. I don’t know if she did more, or if someone came out and didn’t like her being there. Whoever it was must have been fast and quiet to get the drop on her.”
“Fast and quiet? That’s the least of it! We’re not up against amateurs. What were you thinking, letting her out of the room in the middle of the night? No Gameskeepers around. No servants. No one! And if she wouldn’t listen to you, you should have woken me. Or Griffin. Or anyone!”
Carver’s lean body stiffens. “I thought it was a good idea. I let her go.”
My fury shakes the room. Literally. Guilt is layered on top. Cassandra had no reason to be in this arena except that I asked her. I brought her here.
The ground beneath my feet blackens. Lightning coils down my arms and webs between my fingers. Griffin makes a soothing sound and lays his hand on my shoulder, but that just enrages me more. I don’t deserve his comfort.
A jagged bolt shoots from my hand, wild and blinding in the dim room. It flies toward Flynn. His pained grunt mixes with the harsh crack of thunder, and my eyes widen. There’s a hole in his pants. His leg is smoking.
Both my heart and the storm implode at my feet. I rush to Flynn. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry.”
Flynn grits his teeth, backing away from me with a limp. “It’s fine,” he grates out. “I’m fine.”
He’s not fine. Shame and remorse leave me rooted to the spot as Flynn puts more space between us. I want to help him, but I’m afraid to touch him. I think he doesn’t want me to.
Jocasta slips her shoulders under Flynn’s big arm, staggering under his weight and looking at me like she’s never seen me before. I guess she hasn’t. Kato jumps in to help, and they guide Flynn toward a chair.
Selena sweeps past me and then sits next to Flynn. “This, I can do something about.”
She takes out a knife, cuts his pants off above the lightning strike, and then pours clean water over the wound. I can see straight to the bone. Flynn hisses, and my throat closes over. I can’t move. I can’t breathe. I can’t believe what I’ve done.
The sharp sting of magic bites my skin as Selena gently touches the seared flesh. Flynn’s nostrils flare, and his normally tanned face turns bone-white. She increases the power, and he throws his head back, the muscles in his neck and jaw straining.
Jocasta holds his hand, never looking away from his face. Perspiration dots Flynn’s brow. His eyes close, squeezing tight against the pain. He grips Jocasta’s hand so hard it must hurt her, but Jocasta keeps murmuring encouragement in a low, steady voice while I stay frozen in place. I know exactly how much this hurts. It’s ten times worse than the actual wound.
Finally, Selena draws back. Flynn lowers his head, his grip easing on Jocasta’s hand. He breathes deeply, filling his whole chest, and then gingerly flexes his leg. His brown eyes are fatigued but clear of pain.
I let out a wobbly breath and say a silent prayer of thanks, mostly to Selena. When I step back, my boots scrape over my charred footprints. As I look down, something troubling occurs to me. Lightning—offensive magic.
“Son of a Cyclops! If this pops out of me in the arena, we’ll be eliminated.”
Selena slants me an arch look. “Then don’t let it pop.”
“I can’t control it!”
She scoffs. “Of course you can.”
“Really? How?”
Her indigo eyes narrow. “Sarcasm and belligerence won’t help. Try concentrati
ng.”
My jaw drops. Does she think I haven’t tried?
“It’s not an issue,” Kato says glumly. He gently closes Cassandra’s eyes and then crosses her hands over her chest. “We’re out of the competition. We lost our sixth.”
Oh my Gods. He’s right.
Unless… I look at Selena. “Can you take her place?”
Selena shakes her head. “You registered a female Hoi Polloi. There’s no way I can pass for Hoi Polloi, no matter how I mute myself.”
Mute herself? My stomach cramps. I feel sick. “Of course. I wasn’t thinking.”
I turn to Griffin, barely able to look at him. “Then it’s over. I didn’t protect my team. We’ll have to forfeit the Games. I just started, and I’ve already failed in every way possible.” My hands ball into fists. I want to hit something, break things, tear something apart. Mostly myself. “This isn’t me. I can’t do this!”
Griffin pins me with his hard stare. “Don’t make this about you.”
I gape at him. “You’re always saying it’s about me. Now suddenly it’s not? Make up your mind!”
A whisper of apprehension over the back of my neck is my only warning before I’m off my feet and over Griffin’s shoulder. The world dips, my insides roil, and acid burns a line from my stomach to my throat. He sets me down in the next room. My feet hit the ground hard, and I swallow, tasting dinner and bile.
Griffin slams the door shut and then turns on me with a frown so fierce his eyebrows turn into one furious slash across his face. “This happens. You think I haven’t lost people? You think I haven’t seen dead men and women and known that parents no longer have their children? That children just became orphans? That husbands and wives and lovers and friends will never see each other again because they believed in me? Because they followed me?”
My jaw clicks shut.
“It’s time to be the person you were meant to be, Cat. You don’t just have to make decisions and stand by them now. You have to live with them.”
My anger erupts like a volcano. “You live with them! I don’t want this! I never wanted this!”
“The Fates don’t care what you want! You were born for a reason. Most people have to figure out their role in life by themselves. Some never do. You had yours handed to you when you were fifteen. Harbinger of the end. Destroyer of realms.” He advances on me even though we’re only a step apart. “You end the scourge. You rebuild the kingdom. You’ve had more than eight years to think about it. Now stop hiding and do something!”
If he’d hit me, I couldn’t have been more stunned. “I tried to do something! Look how well that turned out!”
“We have the Ipotane. Sinta is behind a locked wall. That’s a win.”
I shake my head. Scoffing, I look down. “It’s over.”
Griffin pinches my chin and forces my head back up. “You’re the leader. You don’t get to look down. You look straight ahead and acknowledge the damage you cause.”
My eyes widen. Blur.
“And the good you do,” he says more gently, easing his grip. “Nothing ends in this arena. If we have to, we invade. Good options don’t exist. Only choices.”
My throat burns with rising tears. “I made one, and Cassandra’s dead.” Her lifeless face is all I can see. Her gruesome second smile. “Oh Gods. Piers already hates me. He’s going to kill me.”
“Piers doesn’t hate you.” Griffin wraps his arms around me and draws me in close. I resist at first but then realize that’s not what I really want. I lay my cheek against his chest, letting my weight sag and wishing I could somehow settle our burdens back onto his shoulders again.
“This isn’t your fault.” His large hand moves slowly up and down my back. “Cassandra shouldn’t have left the suite at night. Not here. Not in this place.”
An ache unfolds under my rib cage. “Did he… Were they…in love?”
“Piers? In love?” Griffin shakes his head. “Not to my knowledge. He cared about her, though. They were comrades. And friends.”
The hot sting behind my eyes gets worse. I take a deep breath. Let it out slowly. “Plan B?” I ask.
“Plan B,” Griffin agrees.
I sniff. “I don’t have a plan B.”
Jocasta throws open the door. “No. Plan A.” She frowns. “You do realize we can hear every word you say?”
I blink at her. “And?”
“We can go through with the Games.” She points to herself. “Woman. Hoi Polloi.”
My pulse takes off like Pegasus.
Griffin tenses beside me. “You can’t be serious.” He uses his calm, scary voice. “You have no idea how to fight.”
Her chin lifts. “I trained with Cat before you left. I trained with Cassandra every day until you got back.”
Oh no. This is one more thing I did. It explains the calluses on Jocasta’s fingers, and how close the two women seemed. “I’m sorry you lost your friend.”
Jocasta’s expression doesn’t change. If anything, it hardens. “Me too.”
Griffin’s eyes narrow, but not on me. “How long did you train with Cat?”
“A few days.”
He stares at his sister. “So overall, you’ve trained for a matter of weeks and have no combat experience. That’s like throwing a toddler into a race and expecting the child to keep up.”
“I can keep up,” Jocasta says.
A big, masculine mitt grabs her wrist and pulls her from the doorway. Griffin and I storm after her just as Jocasta twists out of Flynn’s hold with impressive efficiency. He’s changed his clothes. You’d never know he’d been severely burned just minutes ago.
Flynn’s face is a portrait of rage. “Jo…”
She turns her back on him and faces Griffin and me again. “I’m a grown woman. I make my own decisions.”
“Think about Mother and Father,” Griffin says.
Jocasta’s chin notches up again. “They raised us to think for ourselves.”
“They didn’t raise us to throw our lives away!” Griffin snaps.
“And I’m not planning to!” Jocasta’s sapphire eyes glint in the torchlight, determination off cut stone. “I’m from a family of action. Do you expect me not to act?”
“I expect you to act wisely,” Griffin responds.
“I don’t answer to our parents anymore. I have no husband or children to consider. I don’t answer to you, either, Griffin.”
Good Gods, I hope she doesn’t expect me to decide.
“Jo—” Flynn tries again.
She swings on him, livid. “You”—she pokes him in the chest—“don’t get an opinion.”
“I bloody well do!” Flynn snarls.
He takes a step forward, towering over her, and Jocasta slaps him hard enough to stop him in his tracks.
Her voice lowers, almost masking the tremor in it. “You forfeited your right by ignoring me for the last six years.”
Flynn sucks in a sharp breath. So do I. Griffin looks floored. Carver looks miserable. Kato looks uncomfortable. Selena looks mildly interested, which means she’s paying attention to every word. And Jocasta looks downright dangerous.
“Do I get an opinion?” Carver is slumped against the wooden door, his arms crossed. There’s no lightness in his tone, and he looks bone-weary.
Jocasta nods.
“We should knock you out cold and make sure you don’t wake up again until after we’ve forfeited the Games.”
I snort. I doubt he’ll get an opinion again.
Something close to violence flares in Jocasta’s eyes. “Try it, and you’ll see what I’ve learned.”
Carver peels himself off the wood, looking more than ready to oblige.
I hold up a hand to stop him. “What have you learned?” I ask Jocasta.
“Knife throwing. Swordplay. Some grappling and self-defen
se.”
“How are you with a target?”
“Excellent.”
“And with a moving target?”
“Average.”
“And with a sword?” I ask.
“Mediocre.”
So she can lift and swing. Great. At least she’s honest.
The muscles at the back of Flynn’s jaw bounce out like they have a life of their own. “I seriously hope you’re not considering this.”
And I seriously hope he’s talking to Griffin and not to me.
Jocasta’s expression turns stony with resolve. “I understand your doubts. I’ll stay out of it as much as possible. I’ll simply be your sixth body in the arena.”
“Sixth dead body!” Flynn explodes. “This is madness!”
Jocasta whirls on him. “Do you want me to hit you again?”
Flynn’s brown eyes catch fire. Then, in the space of a few breaths, his face shuts down completely. “If she walks out there, I don’t. We’ll have to forfeit anyway.”
My heart sinks. He means every word.
Griffin levels the same piercing stare on Flynn that he’s always using on me. “I know my sister. She’ll forgive just about anything. She won’t forgive a selfish choice.”
Flynn looks at Griffin like he’s possessed. “Don’t tell me you condone this!”
Griffin looks torn. How could he not?
“Can you be my shadow?” I ask Jocasta, knowing I should really keep my mouth shut. “Stick to me like the Minotaur to its maze? Do whatever I say? No hesitating. Not even a second. And if not me, then someone else?”
She nods. Not eagerly. Not enthusiastically. She just nods.
“Cat—” Flynn gears up to argue again.
“Stop.” I slice my head to the side, silencing him. “We’ve all chosen to put our lives on the line for a reason. For a cause. Jocasta isn’t less of a person than we are. She doesn’t get half a vote. She made a noble offer, and you’re spitting in her face.”
“I’m not spitting in her face! She isn’t really trained. How can you even consider this?”
“Do you think I was truly trained the first time my mother threw me into an arena with people twice my size and honed to fight?” I laugh, and it’s as brittle as winter leaves. “Trial by fire. It forges a heart of iron.”
Breath of Fire Page 29