“Things change.”
David took a quick dive into Sean’s core, through a veneer of anxiety and disbelief, past layers of fear and dread, straight to the bloody center, where a powerful sense of isolation steered his every action. “Thingschange, butyoudon’t,” he said. “You’re still the orphaned little boy, alone in a sea of disciples, wishing you felt like you belonged. You’re too much of a good boy to break the rules. Somake your threats,Lhynion’s heir, because we both know you won’t follow through.”
A muscle in Sean’s jaw ticked as he glared David’s way. “You’re a sociopath.”
David drained the last of the minty drink and pushed off the counter, standing straight. “I’m a cynic and a pragmatist. You’re the one casually threatening murder at the breakfast table.”
“Okay.” Autumn smacked her palms flat on the table. “That’s enough. We can finish this argument later. David, meet me down on the training grounds, okay?”
With a noncommittal sigh, David locked himself in the washroom until the voices on the other side of the door disappeared.
A sunny morning greeted him when he made it outside, forcing himself not to match any of the gazes directed his way. He zigzagged through the trees toward the training grounds while he prodded at memories floating piecemeal to the surface. David tried to put the puzzle together, but the story remained blurry, and he questioned his own sanity in searching for it. Why would he want to watch the descent of a man from good to evil, wondering when he’d stumble past the point of no return?
He needed more information. Galadaine wasn’t always a lunatic, and David needed to understand what happened to turn him. It couldn’t have been losing Meléan. There was more to it, surely.
He crossed the bridge onto the training grounds with only slight doubt. If nothing else, he’d find Autumn here, and if worse came to worst, he’d simply leave. The library could teach him far more than this would.
Beyond the check-in tent—where every pixie within pretended they couldn’t see him—the path veered in two directions. The right was clearly where the more advanced courses were taught. Expert archers with crack shot aim hit bullseyes again and again. Stone rings were encircled by spectators cheering for the elite fighters inside. Dexterous individuals threw knives square into the hearts of target dummies.
David veered left, where people were gathered in group tutorials. From a distance, the spark of rose red hair caught his eye, and he swung that way. Autumn smiled when he drew near, then nodded toward the grassy field where Sean fought another pixie. The swarm of observers around them had eyes only for Sean. Not a single one of them glanced David’s way.
Well, none except Isobel, standing on the other side of Autumn. She spared a few seconds to spear him with a cold look before returning her attention to Sean.
“It took him a bit to get out of his head,” Autumn said, “but look at him now.”
With little effort, Sean threw a punch that landed on his trainer’s jaw, then brought the guy to his knees. David had been on the receiving end of that brutality enough times to know how much it hurt, but the pixie just laughed and motioned for Sean to do the same to the pixie girl training with them.
Poor thing. She didn’t have a chance. Sean would knock her out cold. Didn’t quite seem fair.
“Anna has five years of training on him,” Autumn said. “And she’s far more agile than Sean. He has raw talent, but?—”
“He needs to work on his speed,” Isobel said. She continued on, but David grew distracted by Sean’s sparring partner. It was the hair that snagged him, like a starling—black from afar, but when the sun struck the braid just right, an oil slick of color sparked.
Something about the way she moved, the delicate curve of her jaw, the fragile line of her throat.
Heknewthat girl. She was in the memories, the hazy ones he could barely access.
“You said her name was Anna?” he asked Autumn. “Who is she?”
“Besides Sean and Kywyn, she’s the only other pixie in this realm who possesses mortal blood. A pixielavanié. She’s near the end of her Apprenticeship, I think. She’ll join the Honor Guard soon.”
David studied the grace of her movement as she maneuvered around Sean, pinning him to the ground.
“She showed up here a few years ago,” Autumn said. “Strange, really. She just arrived one day. Kind of like you.”
He had attempted to shove the memory of that pain deep below the surface so he never had to relive it, but it sprang up fresh now, and he shuddered.
“I spoke with Kywyn,” Autumn said. “He thinks you should train with them. If you’re seen fighting at Sean’s side, it will support the narrative we want. Generally we all keep to our own people when training since we have similar strengths, but sylphs don’t take part in this.”
That information was enough to jerk his attention away from the girl. “They don’t? Why not?”
“Sylphs are pacifists by nature,” Autumn said.
Huh. Maybe that was why David had always hated violence. Too bad he was so drenched in it. He’d never fit in among a crowd of peace lovers, no matter how nice it might be to join them.
Bel snorted. “And also, their blood is toxic.”
David blinked at her. Toxic?
