Half of the remaining candidates were part of our current party, along with Talon, Ajax, and Quillen. The rest were trekking elsewhere with other officiates.
We’d been jogging for what felt like forever, taking few breaks, and my body was majorly protesting. My feet throbbed, my knees ached, my calf muscles felt tight, and my throat was raw with thirst.
But then, my body wasalwaysmajorly protesting lately. How could it not, when I was consistently hungry, fatigued, and sleep-deprived? But that was what Xalbia did—it attacked your basic needs as part of putting you through the ringer.
It also gave you blisters on top of blisters.
At this point, I was thankfully used to my feet being all busted; used to ignoring the tell-tale burning twinges on my heels. Mostly because I usually had far bigger things to worry about while jogging or trekking in the Pines—not merely the beasts or the terrain, but the horrific conditions. I’d been exposed to everything from sandstorms and avalanches to earthquakes and hailstorms.
Well, at least I had no mental room to further chew on what I’d earlier discussed with Khalida. Those paths of thoughts hadn’t led me anywhere good.
Spotting a spider web, I ducked. The puffing coming from Bevan behind me said that the Phoenixian had ran face-first into it. I cringed on his behalf.
There were no Laelaps with us today—they apparently detested the swamp; hated the scents of mud, rot, gas bubbles, and brine algae.
While I loathed jogging in these parts, I didn’t despise the terrain itself. The swamp had a certain charm, even if—as Lear had once remarked—there was something ever so slightly morbid about it. The trees were black and twisted. The vegetation was rotten and short. Tall weeds protruded out of the brackish water that was the color of green peas.
Slimy algae seemed to beeverywhere. And spiders. And snakes. And mosquitos. And horse flies. And did I mention the snakes? It didn’t matter how often I was subjected to these areas, I never got used to the serpents.
Then there was the quicksand. I’d toppled into it once before, during another jog. It had been not one bit fun.
And gods, there wasso much noise.Frogs croaking. Birds screeching. Flies buzzing. Water splashing. Mud slurping.
Now and then, a heavy silence would crash down on us. And I’d know that some kind of apex predator was prowling around.
We had to be very careful to jog on theexactpath that Talon took, since there were so many dangers here. Just one wrong step could result in you falling into a bog or sinkhole. He seemed to have the layout of the swamp memorized.
He also seemed not one bit affected by the scorching heat, stifling humidity, or how his boots were weighed down by the clumps of mud sticking to the soles. No, unlike me, he appeared to be coping with it all just fine. Something I literally couldn’tnotnotice, since making a concentrated effort not to look at him was useless when he wasright in front of me.
I’d actually walked to the middle of the line when the candidates earlier gathered at the garrison, ready to leave. He’d moved me to the front like I belonged there.
See, this was the problem with such powerful personalities. You couldn’t really avoid them unless they were content to be avoided. And Talon, it seemed, was not.
He’d stayed reasonably close to me whenever we took breaks. I’d struck up conversations with others to use them as a buffer—I’d even gone as far as to speak to Seneca at one point, who surprisingly hadn’t been rude. But Talon had cut the talks short by either signaling for silence or ushering me away.
All of it seemed to be an effort to convey anAvoiding me is both stupid and impossible, you need to deal with itmessage. Or something like that. Whatever.
I ground my teeth as I noticed a swarm of gnats up ahead. Squinting, I pressed my lips tight together as we barreled through them. Oh, and how had I noticed them so soon? Well, the fog out here in the Pines didn’t seem quite as thick to me anymore. I would have thought it was courtesy of theichor,but the other candidates still complained about the fog’s density.
I didn’t know what it meant that I seemed able to see better out here. I’d posed the question at Khalida who, much like Lear, had merely suggested I was becoming used to it. Personally, though, I didn’t agree.
I was reluctant to consult one of the Marshalls about it. They would tell Talon, who would tell the Sovereigns.
Talon, who was beginning to slow down, I then realized.
Relief gripped me in its claws as he continued to ease up his pace. Finally, he came to a halt. I did the same, panting like crazy. Planting my hands on my knees, I dragged in mounds of air so thick and heavy with moisture I was surprised I could breathe it in.
I couldn’t lie, I felt a little sick—mostly due to my headache, which was steadily getting worse. None of theichor’s side-effects had yet faded, as it happened. As such, despite being so physically drained, I was still hyper-alert and would get surges of crazy restlessness at times.
The other candidates were in the same state—as evident by their constant fidgeting. I’d gotten damn good at hiding justhow jittery and twitchy I felt, so I wasn’t watched as closely as those who’d openly admitted to feeling that way. But I wasn’t so sure that Talon was fooled.
I couldn’t really complain about the overabundance of energy that purred in my system—it was my main source of fuel right now. It was a relief to know that Xalbia was almost over.
Hearing puffing sounds, I looked up at Bevan. He was scrubbing at his face and lips, where silken threads of web still stubbornly clung to his skin.
Beside him, Seneca let out a teasing snicker. “At least you didn’t get a mouthful of gnats. I heard Atticus practically choking when we ran through the swarm of them—I’m pretty sure he swallowed a few.”
“I did not,” Atticus denied, sidling up to her, his eyes dancing. Eyes that hardened as they met mine.
