Belien, evidently incapable ofnotstirring the pot, leaned forward with a smirk. “I think it’s time you face the truth, Winters. After all, that’s what the trial was all about, wasn’t it? Your buddy is dead.”
The air in the room shot up several degrees. The tangy scent of vinegar filled the air, along with the sound of...bubbling?
Cedric’s chest tingled as he looked down. Gael Winters, flamecaller, had one hand flattened on top of the table. The other was wrapped around her metal goblet...which was full ofboilingwine.
“Gael,” Cyren murmured—a gentle warning.
“It’s not personal,” Leona added quickly, an attempt to sooth the escalating situation. Even she could not ignore the magic pulsing off Gael in angry waves. “Not all of us were cut out for the demands of the Trial of Spirit. Just look at how long it took Lightbreaker and Lord Church’s golden boy.”
Cedric ignored the cloud of shame hanging over his head.
He didn’t know if it was ignorance or malice that drove Belien to say what he did next, but either way it was very, very stupid.
“Yes, exactly,” Belien said haughtily. “Some of us are simply weak.”
Gael looked ready to burst into flame.
Elyria spoke before she could. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. That trial forced us to confront our deepest fears, our darkest memories. It called on things that would fell even the toughest and strongest among us. If you think someone weak after they’ve stared down their worst nightmare, even if the nightmare won in the end, you’re a greater fool than I thought.”
Hard though that may be to imagine,Cedric quoted in his mind, remembering the way she’d hurled nearly those exact words at himbefore the trial.
“...hard though that may be to imagine,” Elyria finished.
Cedric buried his grin in his tankard. It was rather nice when her vitriol was aimed at someone who actually deserved it.
Unfortunately, her words did not land with Belien the same way they had with Cedric. The sorcerer simply did not seem to care.
“Is that defensiveness I detect rankling the mighty Revenant?” Belien asked snidely.
“And is it for yourself...or on Sir Thorne’s behalf, I wonder?” added Leona, her eyes narrowing on Cedric.
Her suspicious gaze was like a punch in the gut. Did she know? Did she know that he’d been unable to best the Trial of Spirit on his own? That the only reason he’d made it out of there, that he wasn’t still trapped like Alden and Paelin, was because of Elyria?
He hadn’t endured. He’d been dragged out of the darkness by someone stronger, someone who had faced down her own demons and still had the strength to save him. The others won their trials; Cedric merely escaped his.
And somehow, Leona knew.
“Shut up, Blackwood,” said Kit, interrupting Cedric’s guilt-driven spiral.
“Was she talking to you, pixie?” Belien spat, his tone so vitriolic Cedric might have slapped him had he been closer.
Elyria stood, the movement so abrupt that it sent her chair scraping back several inches before toppling over. “By the fucking stars, how many times does the Arbiter have to say the word ‘unity’ before you two get it through your thick human skulls?”
Leona rolled her eyes. “You truly expect me to believe a death dealer like you is out here preaching harmony?”
“And what exactly is it thatyouhope to achieve by being an asshole? Other than making me want to crack said skull against this table.”
“There! You see?” Leona slammed her goblet down, red wine splashing across the polished wood. “See how she threatens me? Unity, myass.”
“Can you blame her? We all have our limits,” Nox muttered—an uncharacteristic contribution.
Thraigg snorted into his tankard.
“You’re so blinded by your arrogance and bigotry, you can’t even see how you are fighting against your own interests here,” Elyria said, waving her arms animatedly. “Why would the Arbiter be constantly preaching the necessity of unity if it wasn’t, oh, I don’t know,necessary?”
Leona raised her goblet in a mock-toast. “Well, thank the celestials we have the Revenant here. Our ever-present reminder of the consequences of not sitting down and shutting up like good little humans. Will you slaughter us the way you slaughtered our people during the war?”
Elyria stilled, a sudden calmness overtaking her features that sent a chill down Cedric’s spine. This was about to take a very bad turn.
