Page 11 of The Heart Trials

The ride juts into motion. He smirks.

And I realize I’m not the only person scheming.

5

Lucent doesn’t speak as the transport follows Citadel Hill back toward the main palace. His smile is still imprinted on his face as if this is some kind of a game. My stomach turns at the tournament signs fluttering in the wind. We are disposable to them. The only reason Lucent is dealing with me with any kind of decency is because I have something he wants. Skyborns are all the same.

“You’re not into conversation?” He clears his throat, moving his hair off his now slick forehead.

“I’m not in the business of entertaining.”

His mouth parts before his playful smile deepens. I consider smacking it off his face but turn to look out of the window instead. I rest back in my seat with a hand beneath my head, touching the tip of the blade hiding in my bun. I am too close to be outsmarted. Stale wind whips inside the transport, and I inhale, imagining it is briny sea air.

“Are we close?” he asks.

“Pass Evergild Gardens.”

He guides us down the length of the park. “Now where?”

“Keep going that way. Toward the gates.”

“Axira, where exactly are we going?”

My heart stops. None of my clients know my name. Not even my regulars. They only know that to make an order, they deposit a note beneath the loose stone at the foot of the Benevolent statue in my district square. “How do you know my name?” I ask.

“I’m not in the business of answering questions from lowborns.” The ride stops. “Where are we going?”

“You’ll know when we get there.”

The mirth in his expression hardens. “If you’re tricking me—” He spits before raking a hand through his hair. I start to slip the blade out of my bun but freeze when he glares at me with pinpoint eyes and a thousand-yard stare. Closer now, the dried crust at the corners of his mouth is unmistakable. The blotchy redness of his skin, his unnatural sweating on a fairly cool day, his unfocused stare and erratic shifts in mood.

He’s on a Heartfiller. A euphoria Heartfiller.

A strong one.

Skyborn don’t need Heartfillers, so when they get a dose, it hits them harder. Guess that’s what happens when you’re not used to being numb. His mouth quivers.

Maybe he’s on more than one.

A Skyborn using a Heartfiller is as much a crime as me selling them. But he’s a royal. He’s the prince’s cousin and the Benevolent’s nephew. If we’re caught, this will be pinned on me. I shove the door open and get out. When my boots hit the street, I march toward the Citadel gate. He already has a supplier. This could actually be a trap, even if he is good at pretending to be kind.

“Axira.”

I walk faster. New customers must know old customers. That’s my rule; I should never have broken it.

“Axira!”

Mercyenforcers look in my direction, and I ease my pace. My hands are sweaty in my gloves. My heart won’t stop racing. Swim with the current or drown. Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe courage is a death wish. Maybe eighteen is as many years as I get. A hand grabs me and spins me around roughly. The heel of my gloved hand connects with Lucent’s face before he can blink. He groans. I whip my blade from my hair, prepared for him to try to order I be arrested.

“Was it something I said?” His voice is muffled between cupped hands over his nose.

I cross my arms, unsure what to make of him. Blood drips down his face. “I don’t make deals with people…in your condition.”

He eyes the blade but steps closer to me as a Mercyenforcer approaches. “Is there a problem here?” they ask.

I tuck the weapon up my sleeve.

“There’s no problem,” Lucent says.