Page 126 of The Heart Trials

The moment the Benevolent steps away, the crowd breaks like a tide, scattering into the wind. Contestants run to their chosen people, and the Mercyenforcers release them. Serafina runs straight to me, throwing her arms around my legs. She’s burning with fever. I pull her close, even as my muscles scream. I’m barely steady, dizziness pressing at the edges of my vision. I lean into Caelus without thinking. He catches me instinctively. But he says nothing. Just watches me. Watches us.

I glance over my shoulder. “Where’s your person?” I ask him.

His gaze sharpens, and then widens. His mouth parts like the answer just hit him, and it’s too shocking to speak aloud. But then his gaze drops to my chest, where I’m squeezing Serafina, and I sway against him, feeling the deep fatigue in my bones.

It’s me.

“I’ve been drugged too,” I say numbly. Days ago, the Benevolent had said. I’ll fall asleep in hours unless I take the antidote. “They must’ve given it to me in my sleep, I guess.”

He staggers back like he’s been struck, fists at his sides.

“Because…” My voice fractures. Because I’m most important to him.

Serafina coughs against me. Her breath is shallow. I look down at her, then over the mountain’s edge. The wind howls, carrying with it the scents of pine and blood and fear. Below us, the jagged trail winds down the mountain like a serpent’s spine, disappearing into mist.

Somewhere down there is the end to this madness. Somewhere down there is an ocean. And a ship. But I can’t move. Serafina’s thin arms tremble.

Two vials.

Three bodies.

The cost of love is heavy in my palm.

“Axira.” Caelus’s voice is hoarse, distant, like it’s reaching me through fog. “You need to take it. Now.”

I look up at him. His eyes—always guarded—are wide with something close to terror. Serafina won’t make it down the mountain without help.

A shout breaks the silence. Talia is stumbling as Kade drags her forward like a man possessed. She shoves him off her, hard, before latching her climbing gear on. The woman who I assume is her mother follows her to the mountain edge, pleading and crying. I’m too far to make out what they’re saying, but Talia doesn’t even look at her. She drops down over the cliff.

The transports leave in a loud rush, and suddenly it’s only us and the people we care about, lowborn people we must choose to let die to prove we have what it takes to be Skyborn.

Rhythe still stares at the teenage boy, like he’s in some silent standoff with himself. Ivy tries to look away from him, but her gaze wanders back. Her adoptive mothers are not here; the Benevolent couldn’t trace them to her. My heart squeezes. Hopefully that means they’re safe. Ivy doesn’t appear to have anyone else here who she knows well, other than the boy. She and Rhythe both know him. Is he a survivor of a rebel family too? Rhythe tosses the boy his bag of rations, tent, and camping gear. The boy waves again, and Ivy hesitates. She waves back this time, but walks away after Rhythe.

Dorian is fastening Mae to himself. I watch as they argue about what to do with the antidotes, gesturing with their hands. I’ve never seen them even frustrated with each other. I recognize Mr. Marsh, Dorian’s father, standing beside him with a hand on his back. The person here for Mae could be her mother or an older sister. They look similar, but not close in age. Then I recall Mae saying her mother overdosed on Heartfillers when Mae was small. The woman must be her sister. She is very frail, terribly underfed. Dorian unstoppers an antidote and throws his head back, downing it all at once. His father gives him a confident nod.

He is leaving him here.

Mr. Marsh takes the camping bag from his back, taking a cue from the younger boy, who’s rummaging through the stuff Rhythe left him.

Dorian hands Mae the second vial and she drinks it, before steadying his rope and checking Mae’s ties to him. Then he grabs a hook to connect Mae’s sister to them. My heart squeezes.

“It’s too much weight,” Caelus says, watching them.

“Dorian, it’s too much!” I yell, holding Serafina. “It’s too heavy.”

“We stole an extra rope and hooks,” Dorian calls back.

That’s a relief.

Mae smiles. It’s a genuine one lined with a hope she didn’t have earlier. “See you on the ground!” Once they’re strapped together in tandem, they move toward the summit’s edge.

Caelus’s hand lands on my shoulder. “We should get moving.”

I shrug him off, watching Dorian’s father, the younger fellow, and the others left here, unable to respond like a good Skyborn. Like caring for people is a dam that’s already cracked, and the water just keeps rushing through.

“Do we have any extra gear, food?” I ask.

Caelus points to a pile. “I pulled all that; they can have it.” I heave it over to them and apologize silently, a vile disgust writhing through me.