Beside him, Sable flinched. Pale and wide-eyed, she sat with her legs drawn up tight to her body in a protective position.
I headed to a spot near Lear and plopped my butt down on the hard ground. Neither of us spoke. I didn’t want to talk. Didn’t want to eventhink. I needed to just let my mind go quiet for a while.
I needed to not wonder what the hell had happened in that lair.
My posture tiredly slumping, I drained the last of my drink just as Talon squatted in front of me. Pleased to see him, I tried mustering a smile, but it probably looked more like a grimace. Not that he noticed. He was busy mentally cataloging each of my injuries, his face hardening to stone.
I should likely be mortified that he’d seen me looking a complete wreck, covered in all kinds of gunk and smellingamazing.But I couldn’t find it in me to care. It seemed too trivial a matter after all I’d just experienced.
He glanced over his shoulder and let out a sharp whistle that seemed to be the whistle-equivalent of Ajax’s name, because only the Marshall ever responded to it. Right then, the male strode over with a small sack and handed it to Talon. Ajax gave me a nod of what could have been respect and then melted away.
When Talon took a large water pouch out of the sack, I honestly wanted to kiss him. I wouldn’t, of course, because my lips were a mess. He curved a hand around my own to steady it and topped up the pouch I held.
“Thank you,” I rasped.
Hard eyes met mine, his lips pressed into an annoyed slash. I couldn’t tell what irritated him more—my injuries, or how much the sight of them bothered him.
Tickled by that, I stifled a smile and knocked back more water.
He dug a cloth out of the sack, soaked it in water, set down the large pouch, and then fished out a tub of salve that both disinfected and numbed wounds.
I gratefully held out my hand. So many aches and stings were making themselves known, and pulses of hot pain were rippling down the burns on my side.
Talon begrudgingly gave me the cloth and salve. He wanted to tend to my wounds himself like he’d done yesterday, I realized. I wasn’t the least bit surprised that he resisted, nor was I upset. Here in this context, he was the Order’s Cardinal, not a man I bedded.
He remained where he was as I cleaned and lathered salve on my injuries, only helping when I’d needed aid removing my boots. How the muscles of his legs weren’t spasming with the strain of staying in that same position for so long, I could only accredit to the whole immortal package.
“Done.” I handed over the salve but kept the now-rotten cloth, since no one else would have a use for it. “Thanks.”
Talon tossed the tub back in the sack, along with the large pouch. His gaze serious on mine, he gave the uninjured side of my neck a quick squeeze and then stood.
Watching him walk away, I again found my brain replaying the little snippets I had of him running throughthe labyrinth as a child. Had that been one of the ways the Sovereigns had gone about ridding him of fear? Or a form of punishment they had used, maybe?
I jolted on hearing a loud cough, still so on edge that my skin felt sore. Silently willing my pulse to slow its roll, I exhaled a long sigh. I thought about putting my boots back on but quickly discarded the idea. The soles were wrecked anyway, and I’d prefer to let the air get at the wounds on my feet.
I shifted a little in a fruitless attempt to make myself comfier, knowing I’d be here a while. Only six candidates had entered the labyrinth before me.
“Thank Gods Xalbia ends with the caverns,” began Lear, her voice low, “because I could not handle one more thing, physically or emotionally.”
“Me neither,” I confessed, letting my head droop forward as I closed my heavy eyelids. I felt the backs of my eyes sting. I wanted to cry, and I had no idea why. Maybe I was just so tanked up on emotions that I needed the release.
As the time ticked by, more and more of the other candidates exited the labyrinth. Our pouches were regularly refilled, and lots of bread and cheese was passed around. No small rations this time.
Not much talking went on during those hours. Just some brief, whispered conversations here and there.
Though I was positively exhausted, I couldn’t sleep. Couldn’t even fall into so much as a light doze—terror still ran riot in my system, keeping my brain hyper. I doubted I would fully relax until I was back at the garrison, where I felt safe.
Eventually the last of the candidates appeared. It was Atticus. And I knew by his lifeless expression that he had in fact found Seneca dead within the last circuit.
A part of me felt sorry for him. For all his faults, he’d loved his sister. Losing a sibling would be painful enough. Toseeher dead would be another level of hurt. And to have to leave her corpse behind or choose to perish with her? It was a messed up choice to have to make.
He tried waving off the healing salve, but Keyes pressed him until the Phoenixian finally took care of his wounds. We were then all rounded up, herded onto wagons that soon after appeared, and driven back to the garrison.
“You’ve passed Xalbia—for that, we congratulate you,” said Keyes as we unloaded ourselves from the wagons. “And now you have a choice to make: Do you join the Order, or do you find a different place for yourself at Deimos? We’ll want your answer tomorrow.”
“Let us be very clear on one thing,” added Ajax. “You survived the trials of the labyrinth, but life in the Black Tapestry holds just as many trials. That exhaustion you’re now feeling? The sense of loss? The thirst? The pain? The stubborn fear that won’t yet subside even though you’re out of danger? You’ll feel all these things again at some point if you join the Order. There’s no end to any of it. Which means you need to be damn sure of your decision. So be sure.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
