“Arienna.”
Swallowing, I step forwards. As he stops in front of me, a blush heats my cheeks, but I keep my gaze forwards.
He nods at me. Then continues down the line. “These are today’s newbies,” he says. “Their failure is whose?”
“Ours,” the hundred-or-so-odd children chant back.
“If you see them struggling?”
“We help.”
“If you see their weaknesses?”
“We point them out.”
“And if they have any questions?”
“We answer them.”
He nods, then raises two fingers to his lips and whistles.
The movement is instant. As the kids start running in place, I do the same. At the next whistle, we stretch. Then we cycle through sets of push-ups, burpees, and star jumps. By the fourth round, my lungs are burning, and the pain in my heart starts to fade under all the other pain.
We run around the square, and although I’d like to say I do better than the others, given my legs are much longer than theirs, I most certainly do not. I’m not at the very back of the pack, but I’m solidly in the middle. Stevie, on the other hand, is a freaking spider, and Frances is even faster than her, both staying at the front of the pack.
Struggling to breathe, I watch as another squadron, this one made of only twenty or so people who are closer to my age, exit one of the buildings surrounding the square. Fabia catches my gaze and nods at me as she walks behind Echo. I don’t have the energy to nod back as I try to keep up with the little kids.
But it doesn’t matter how exhausted I become, I never find myself at the back of the pack. Looking around, I notice all the names that were called earlier are in the middle with me. The others shift up and down, some running slower, some faster, to keep us together. Tears burn my eyes at the sense of community.
In Browston, despite all our rules about being kind and accepting, there’s nothing like this. We mix together. We invite each other to parties. We talk and laugh, but there is no solidarity in hardship. And it makes me realise that I might not be queen anymore, but Raza is my home.
Looking up, I blink away the tears.
We run another lap before we’re ordered to stop. Stevie gives a hug to one of the newbies, and her actions are quickly followed by the others.
“Good done,” a red-headed kid murmurs as he squeezes my knees.
I pat him on the head. “You too.”
He grins up at me, two teeth missing in his smile.
“Pair up! Arienna, you’re with me,” Gallagher says as he walks to the front.
I start to head for him, but my attention is caught by the older squadron as they break into groups. There is a second of calm.
Then knives, shurikens, and blasts of magic fly through the air in utter chaos. Fists connect with throats, feet with balls and shins. Metal blades glint in the sunlight, and my steps falter as I catch sight of Lief in amongst the crowd.
His eyes widen as Fabia’s sword slams into his groin. His dick falls to the ground, severed in a way I can’t really wrap my head around. I mean, he was stabbed in the front, so I would’ve expected it to be sliced in half down the middle, not off. But there is no denying the full bloody dick between Lief’s feet.
I shudder on his behalf, then again when it flies through the air, flapping in its flaccidity, having been kicked by my bestie.
A shuriken pierces it mid-flight.
A woman knocks it towards the face of her opponent.
That person kicks it back at her, but she ducks, and a burst of magic hits it from the side.
The cock explodes.
