Page 118 of The Amber Sunburst

“He found out some… things about me. Things that’ll get me in trouble. He wants me to help him win, but I’m not going to.”

“Won’t he tell everyone your secret, then?”

“He could. In fact, he probably will, but I won’t be around for it to matter anymore,” Eudoxos says, then his eyes widen. “I just mean, at that point, Forms willing, I’ll be in training to be a Guardian. More leverage and all that.”

Lazarus frowns. That doesn’t make sense. Being a Guardian won’t protect Eudoxos when it comes down to it, and he knows that.

“You said you won’t be around,” Lazarus repeats. “Where will you be?”

“I just told you. It was bad phrasing. I meant⁠—”

“Are you leaving?”

Eudoxos schools his face into a forced expression of confusion. “Leaving? To where?”

“Is it all of you? Zeno, Alexander, and Kallias?”

“Nobody is leaving. We don’t have a death wish.”

Eudoxos is lying. Lazarus can see the telltale signs all over his face. His heart rate speeds up again. They’re leaving?

And, look, he knows they don’t think of him as their friend but they’re the closest he’s ever had. If they leave, he’ll be back in the depths, drowning under the expectations of people who care more about his future than him. Not to mention that if they try to leave, they’ll die.

“You’ll never make it,” he says, reaching for Eudoxos’ shoulder to stop him from walking away.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Eudoxos shouts back. “And if I were, it’s not your business. Just look after yourself. Everyone knows how big of a threat you are and if they’re after me, they’re after you too.”

Lazarus backs off of Eudoxos’ glare.

“Don’t tell anyone, Lazarus. Please,” he says.

“I won’t,” Lazarus promises.

Eudoxos stalks off, and Lazarus hears him curse under his breath.

Once he’s sure Eudoxos has had enough time to get to his room, he barrels down to his own. When he opens the door, his heart drops. Kleitos sits on his own bed, tossing a pocketknife up and down.

Lazarus decides to pretend that he isn’t there. This becomes especially difficult when Kleitos starts talking to him.

“You’ve been hanging out with Eudoxos recently. Meals, class, you know,” he says, tossing the knife.

“Yes,” Lazarus responds.

Kleitos sits up straight. “I’d be careful with that one. He’s got secrets.”

“And?”

“Don’t trust him, is all I mean. For your own good.”

Lazarus hesitates, crossing his arms, and debates whether or not to leave the room. It only takes one more flick of the knife for him to decide. When he heads for the door, Kleitos says, “Lazarus.”

Lazarus turns to face him.

“Good luck in the Trials.” He smiles and flips the knife again before throwing it across the room and into the wall above Lazarus’ bed. “Sorry. Slip of the hand.”

He’s doing this on purpose. He’s trying to rattle me.

But Lazarus doesn’t care if it’s on purpose or not, because it works. He bolts, unsure of where he’s going until he reaches the cove exit and stumbles onto the sand.