Page 57 of The Heart Trials

“Alright, I will.” Talia rolls her shoulders back. “The other advice you gave me helped. Thanks. Did Rhythe say anything yet about the next one?”

My ears perk up. Lira glances at me, then Talia, her eyes flaring in warning. The alliance. Lira’s Saltblood. She’s in on it, I assume. But Talia is Stonebound. Rhythe must not want her sharing advice he’s told her. What kind of advice could he have?

“The next trial?” I ask.

Lira goes stiff. Talia swallows, hurriedly putting food on her plate. They wander off together. I look for Rhythe. I haven’t confirmed with him that I want to be part of his alliance. He didn’t seem exactly helpful on the beach. But if he knows anything that could give me an edge on the next trials, I’ll take it.

Caelus marches over to the table and grabs a plate. “Eat,” he says under his breath. “You’ll need your strength.” I turn my back to make sure no one sees him talking to me and grab a few small bites.

I see Ronan in my head. Then, Finn. Then, Serafina.

“I didn’t expect it to be like this,” I say quietly. “I didn’t…”

“You didn’t expect what?”

“Nothing. Never mind.”

“Axira, you’re not okay.” The way he says my name strikes me like a hot iron, slicing my resolve in two.

“I need you to be okay,” he says. “I want—”

I press my back against his, desperate to feel something sturdy, something within this chaos that I trust, and he doesn’t move away. His heart drums in his chest. My pulse slows. I trust him. Not because he’s told me everything. I still don’t understand how we’re going to steal the magic. But I know he’s scheming with me. And that means something.

“You swim like a fish,” he says against my ear, and I can hear the smile between his words.

“I almost drowned,” I say.

“I never doubted for a second.” He hasn’t moved, still firm against me, and for a moment…a blink of a second…I let myself imagine what it would be like in this tournament with someone, like Mae and Dorian.

I recall Lucent telling me Caelus likes to fish. How together they’d visit Dockers Row. “How’d you learn to swim so well?”

“My mother and I used to swim a lot. I stopped after she…” He stiffens. “After she drowned. I took up fishing after that. Missed the ocean.”

“That’s terrible. I—” I don’t know what to say. I knew that the Benevolent’s late wife died. But I didn’t realize it was by drowning. It feels especially morbid to then force contestants off a cliff, drowning dozens of them. My anger is kindled again.

“Why does he make the trials like this?” I ask.

“He has to.”

“What do you mean has to?”

Caelus sighs. “The more people sacrifice to chase the prize he’s promised, the more they will sacrifice to win it. He puts us in impossible situations, testing not only our love for each other, but our regard for anyone. As you saw, most do nothing. Nothing at all. They put their heads down and focus on winning. The closer they get to winning, the less chance they’ll walk away or stand up for anything decent. Think about it—if they walk away from the tournament empty-handed after watching people die and doing nothing, how do they live with that?”

The woman who used to work for Miss Omon comes to mind. She returned to the Saltblood district after losing the last tournament and eventually overdosed on Heartfillers. I’d assumed it was because she lost the tournament.

“It’s the game he plays,” Caelus says.

“Why? If he wants us dead, why give us Heartfillers? Why even send rations?”

“He doesn’t want you dead, he wants you—” Caelus rips us apart suddenly as others join the table, piling food onto their plates. “Desperate,” he whispers before leaving me there.

I don’t move, watching the contestants wandering around, chests glowing. The stress of the last several hours has melted away despite how our numbers have shrunk. There are less than two dozen people here. I counted twenty or so. Down from nearly a hundred.

My fingers graze my chest, and I watch the others dipping in the hot pool and lounging around the fire. Finn was forced into a transport and brought to the arena. But he hasn’t moved. He still stands with the locked gate at his back. The lacerations from the Mercyenforcers dragging him from the shore have left burns all over his skin.

When he peels himself off the gate, heads swivel his way. A few mouths go slack. One girl’s hand stills mid-bite. “So everyone is going to act like this is okay?” he asks loudly.

People quiet.