Page 50 of The Heart Trials

“I’m being honest with you, Mae. I don’t want him. And neither should you.”

Her mouth puckers like I’ve just shared the juiciest gossip. “What do you know?”

“Nothing. I know nothing.” I like her, but the nicest thing I can do is keep her in the dark. My plate is hardly touched when the call for bedtime comes. The room rises, funneling toward the exit.

Wraith Girl Ivy passes behind me, watching me like a shadow, like she wants to say something to me. I didn’t see her during the reception. I can’t read why she is here. I’m not even sure how she got the required fingerprints. Mae and I rise from the table and join the crowd filing out. It’s time for our last sleep before the trials begin.

“Jace Gravemore,” a Citadel official shouts. “You’re needed up front, now.”

“Excuse me,” a grisly, bald Stonebound with boulders for arms snakes through the exit line. “Can I get through?”

Some move out of his way. Some watch him, scribbling in their notebooks.

“Tighten it up,” a Mercyenforcer urges, pushing the rear of the line to squeeze in, stand closer. “Not three feet. Not anymore.”

It’s as if the room forgets to breathe, the crowd shoving in tighter in a frantic tangle of limbs.

“I hope you sleep well,” Mae says as I lose her in the throng of contestants thinning at the mouth of the doors.

“You too.”

A body shifts on my right. I can feel them staring. I don’t have to look to know who it is. He moves closer.

“You won’t survive the first trial alone,” Rhythe says under his breath. “Find me, and the other Saltblood, when the first trial opens.”

I don’t respond. I don’t even look at him. But the walk to my room is haunted by his words. I’m not even close to picking someone to betray. Rhythe seems to think he knows what he’s doing.

Maybe it’s smart to start with some kind of alliance.

II

Destabilization

17

Iwake to hands dragging me out of bed.

Fingernails rip the chain from my mouth before a bag is thrown over my head. I taste copper, blood dripping from where my chain was attached. My gloves are not on. I slept with them off like Caelus said. I stand there, blinking in the darkness, hugging myself. My linen dress suddenly feels too thin and exposed. The first trial is the Trial of Courage, I remind myself, standing straighter.

I’m shoved forward, bare feet on cold ground. My heart thuds in my ears. Rough hands guide me out of the room, down the hall. I stumble forward, groping in the darkness. Their hands touch me every few moments, prodding me one way or another.

Three lefts.

More stairs.

I trip, catching myself on the wall. My senses are completely unsettled in the darkness. The commotion of others being torn from their beds sends goose bumps racing up my arms.

Two rights.

Down more stairs.

Courage. I have to be braver than I’ve ever been. I try to remember the curves of Serafina’s little face. But the uncertainty in the darkness makes the bag around my face feel like it’s shrinking, sticking to my mouth, constricting each breath. I panic, my heart racing. This is the part of the tournament I should be strongest at. I strain to use my ears as eyes, trying to remember where we are on the ground.

Right.

Left.

Long straight corridor.