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I ask the obvious. “How do we keep you safe when we don’t know who we’re protecting you from? Or even how they’re attacking?”
“We’ll have to train for every possibility,” Jace says. “Wilborne’s incantations, Cutter’s vindictiveness, Mildrake’s bullying. If we can overcome them all, we can figure the rest out. You’re a strategist. I’m a warrior. She’s the future queen.”
The worried glance Rosemarie gives him makes me want to wrap her in a hug and promise her that I’ve gotten this one right. Of all the predictions, plans, and plotting I’ve done in my day, I’m certain of her because she’s the only queen who can bring the Bridge back to what it once was. I know it even if I can’t explain it.
My twin seems just as sure. “We work together to create a list and then we make everything on it happen.”
“Sounds simple enough,” Rosemarie says.
27
ROSEMARIE
SEVEN OF PENTACLES: WITH PATIENCE AND PERSEVERANCE, YOU CAN ACHIEVE YOUR GOALS.
Extra Emphasis on Patience.
Training turns out to be anything but simple.
I cling to a cliffside in the Borderlands, hanging from a precarious position on a small ledge halfway up. Huey buzzes with every bit of the anxiety I feel, fluttering by my side whenever I find my footing and puffing into a ball of feather twice his normal size each time I struggle.
I hurt everywhere.
“Don’t look down,” Jace yells.
“Got it,” I mutter. Of all the lessons I’ve learned since training began over a week ago, that one has been drilled into me.
The twins’ version of trial prep has been a grueling cycle of defense training with Jace, strategy sessions and historical lessons with Atticus, and warding classes with Rona. While Atticus refuses to eliminate anyone from the list of suspects, I don’t believe the brownie would’ve announced the murder and led the charge to keep me stocked in clearing charms if she’d been the one to kill Dyphena.
My suspicious gargoyle left hours ago after making sure Jace wouldn’t torture me too much. Too much being a freakin’ loose definition when it comes to training with an undefeated warrior of monsters. Right now, I’d give almost anything for another wyvern attack just so I can catch a break.
The pale light from the double moons carves eerie shadows across the rock and rubble beneath my fingertips. Rona charmed my favorite bracelet so that the green stone glows whenever I tap it. I smacked it hours ago, and right now the only thing I want to tap is out.
And maybe a gargoyle or two.
Sexual frustration and grueling training make me an extremely unhappy camper. Not that I’m going to get laid with their commitment to wait for official mating until after the coronation. Plus, I probably stink of sweat, dirt, and desperation even beneath the sweet desert breezes and fresh rain scent of this part of the Borderlands.
“Again,” Jace calls, the only warning he gives before flying at me.
I duck, shield, and climb to the next foothold.
“That’s the way,” Howard the horse cheers with a high-pitched neigh. His headless horseman, or the Dullahan as the twins call him, sits silently atop the polished saddle. Each day of training, someone new stops by. The Spidress came yesterday to yell clicking commentary, ranging from insults to compliments, depending on how she viewed my progress with her rather huge advantage of being able to spin and shoot threads that would help her climb.
“What does climbing have to do with the queen trials anyway?” I yell at Jace who swoops in a spiral along the top edge. This is the third day of ascent training and my least favorite of the physical sessions. Even hand-to-hand combat lessons had been more enjoyable when I could earn a kiss if I won and still received touches, tail strokes, and wing brushes if I lost. Loving from Jace makes for a hell of a consolation prize.
“Ascent work combines strength, agility, endurance, and mental toughness,” he says gleefully, the evil trainer from hell. No matter how stupid hot he looks with his wings beating a slow, steady rhythm. “Plus, we’re working on your fear of heights.”
Having a gargoyle safety net doesn’t mean I’ve overcome my fear of heights. “The elders aren’t likely to host the queen trials on a cliff.”
“You never know. How bitter does that fear taste on your tongue? I’ll bet victory will taste as sweet as you.” Jace zooms past me, the top claw of his wing catching on my ankle which makes me jump and leaves me scrambling for balance for a scary second.
Friggin’ sadist, taunting me with innuendo when nearly knocking me off the cliff. I’ll teach him. No way I’m backing down now.
“Ha! Gotta do better than that, gargoyle,” I yell.
My fingers cramp, my legs shake, and my arms burn. Yet I won’t let go to make Jace catch me. I’ve failed at everything so far. I won’t give up on becoming queen.
For the twins’ sake.
