I flinch at the look Finnley is directing toward the captain and reach out to grab his hand. At this point, besides Ambrose, he’s my closest friend and ally and about to be my lifeline. I need him to be levelheaded. And not disintegrated by a pissed-off Noctryn captain.
The dark wielder may only be in his second year at the academy, but even at that level, he could incinerate us with his dark magic right where we stand. Or end us with the wicked-looking dagger hanging from his hip.
Either way, it would suck.
I doubt I’d even have time to reach for my hidden weapon before his would be at my throat. We’re basically helpless newborns in our first year at the academy, let alone during trial week. I put on a brave face and step forward, pulling Finnley with me. He cooperates, thank the gods, and allows me to drag him forward. He makes absolutely zero effort to hide the distaste on his face, though.
I pinch the inside of his arm.
Hard.
He averts his focus to me instead. “You’ve got my attention, love. Was there something you needed?” he asks in a sarcastic tone.
Yes, I need you to fix your face.
Instead of replying, I stop directly in front of the female captain, openly ignoring the fact that Finnley is now staring at the side of my head.
“Extend your arm,” she demands.
Hesitantly, I hold out my arm. The skin pinches as she grips it firmly, then turns it over and lifts my sleeve.
I wince.
goose bumps rise on the pale skin of my wrist.
The contents of my stomach are going to come up as she places the sharp tip of the pen on my exposed wrist while pressing down and drawing blood.
Her eyelids flutter closed, and she raises her face to the clouded sky. “Bound by trial, forged by trust, your lives are now combined. Thus, you now must stay alive, or both shall become blood dust,” she mutters in a strange voice while smearing my blood in spiral shapes.
The drawing resembles what the inside of a maze might look like, with swirls and various circles. I’ve just had dirty blood magic performed on me, and all I can focus on is the abstract shapes now etched into my wrist.
She slowly lowers her face and opens her large feline-shaped eyes. Her pupils are completely blown, making her eyes appear black.
A sharp grunt from my left pulls my attention to Finnley and the now bleeding wrist he’s holding as well. We have matching blood smears. Wonderful.
The deep baritone of the same curse washes over me again as it’s recited over his wrist by the other captain.
Our lives are now truly combined. At least until we cross that finish line.
Both Noctryns pull open the metal doors, the hinges creaking and bellowing under the weight as their fully darkened eyes beckon us through.
A deep musky smell penetrates my nostrils immediately.
It smells like damp earth and long-buried secrets.
Chapter nine
A little voice in the back of my head is telling me to turn around and run. Okay, maybe not so little. More like a bellow demanding I obey.
The only problem is I’ve never been good at being obedient.
Instead of listening, I pull my sleeve down to cover the wet blood on my wrist and take a deep breath of fresh air, expanding my lungs to absorb as much as possible. I have a feeling, after entering the twisted passageways within these musty walls, that as soon as the doors shut behind us, fresh air will be the first thing I crave.
Finnley’s sharp gaze pulls away from the entrance of our next trial to look at me in question. “You ready?” he asks softly.
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” I whisper, nodding my head slowly.
I’m forcing myself to be numb. Emotions tangle everything up, and chaos ensues.
