I passed him the page from Stoll’s book, then gave him a moment. Sawyer looked flustered as he read, his forehead furrowing and rising repeatedly. He handed the parchment back to me, shaking his head in confusion. “I feel like you're leaving a lot out,” he said.
I stuffed the paper back into my pocket. “Basically I'm just trying to figure out if I should be arranging my own funeral.”
Sawyer gawked at me. “How are you so casual about this?”
“I've had a while to process it, and worrying about the situation won't change anything.” As the words escaped me, I realized how much I'd changed since the summer. All the shit situations I'd been put in since I got my jewels must have desensitized me.
Fear coated Sawyer’s expression as we continued walking. “You're right. I would rather not know.”
Chapter
Thirty-Three
“No. I haven't heard anything,” Sawyer answered my unspoken question before I had the chance to ask.
I flipped him my middle finger.
“Woah. Don't be mad at the messenger,” he exclaimed, following behind me after I brushed past him.
We left the castle for the combat arena to start our wielding session. I didn't talk our whole walk, and he accepted my silence as a threat not to mess with me right now.
I had too much on my mind this evening. King Hawthorne announced last night that Duke Sinclair discovered two more traitors in the kingdom. They were seen conversing with Draemornians in Elscara—a village close to Craterra. They would be put to death by fire in the dungeons later this week. I wondered if they were the men Sebastian and I overheard in the archives months ago. I hoped so.
I used to feel empathy for those who were executed for simply spilling a secret that was not theirs to share. But not anymore. Maybe I'd become numb to it all. Or maybe it was the fact that if it weren't for these traitorous, greedy mortals divulging information on me to Draemor, then Sebastian would be here and I wouldn’t be worrying for my life.
So let them burn.
Sawyer and I had been sticking to the wielding schedule that Sebastian had put in place. The king has resumed our meetings, but kept them short and sweet. He has also been too preoccupied to have any suspicions, so our plan has been working well.
I put my stress into training, and it showed. I was no longer sick after every wielding session. I gained some weight back and was starting to look more like myself, though I'd never felt less like myself. I'd spent two months absolutely terrified about so many things. Sebastian and the prophecy, to name a few.Was he okay? Was he even alive? What if the prophecy played out before he returned?He’d be welcomed back by my shallow grave in the castle's crypt.
I haven't had another vision from Blythe since I discovered the fable. I guess she got her message across—whatever it was. At first, I thought the new information helped clear up some of my confusion, but it turned out that I just had even more questions now.
Sawyer held the door of the academy open for me, and I stepped in, heading straight for the arena. I had a lot of pent up emotion to let loose this evening, some of which I was not even sure how to describe. To put it lightly, I was a mess.
I tossed my bag down on the mat and tied my hair into a tight knot. “Ready?” I asked Sawyer.
He glared in my direction. “You good?”
I ignored his question altogether. “Drop your shields,” I demanded. Sawyer now put his mental barriers up the moment we entered the arena with the purpose of adding an extra challenge to our sessions. I clenched my jaw together. Even if I tried, I couldn't hide the array of emotions that I wore on my face.
I'd gotten really good at wielding my powers without giving it much thought. I didn't need to focus as hard and the whole process was becoming second nature to me. Turned outthat Sebastian was right. Less but stronger wielding sessions have really helped progress my harnessing abilities.
Sawyer stared blankly at me. “Willawood, what's wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong.”
Everything is wrong.
He took a step towards me. “Are you sure? Because you seem kind of uptight.”
I scoffed with a roll of my eyes. “Just drop your damn shields, Sawyer!”
He stilled, but did not let my yelling faze him. “No. Not until you tell me what's bothering you.”
Screw this. If he wouldn't drop his shields, then I'd just break through them.
I closed my eyes and focused on my command, which was going to be telling him to screw off, but before I could speak the words, my back hit the mat.
