Page 58 of The Heart Trials

“No one cares that Ronan’s—” he goes on.

“That’s the test, Finn,” Kade says.

“That wasn’t a test. It was a death mission.” He paces.

“What did you expect? A nice dinner, some kissing?” Kade stabs the meat on his plate and shoves it in his mouth.

Several drugged contestants giggle.

“What happened to Ronan is upsetting, Finn,” Mae says.

“I agree,” I say, and Caelus gives me a warning look to keep what he’s shared private.

Mae turns to the others. “Most of us will be in Ronan’s shoes eventually.”

“Speak for yourself,” Talia says.

“Now I have to win,” Finn says. “Get in my way and I’ll disqualify you myself.” He storms off and disappears into a tent.

“Well, he’s not going to win alone in there,” someone mutters, and several laugh.

The rest have moved on. They’ve forgotten about Ronan. The Ronan who was here fighting for his brother, which everyone found noble and couldn’t stop whispering about. I expected the trials to be brutal. But I expected among the lowborn that a life, anyone’s life, would matter more. I rock back and forth, pacing, trying to settle my mind on why I’m here and what I have to do: Pick someone to betray, steal magic, and make it to the end. But as I race through options in my head, they’re drowned with memories from my own swim. Memories of seeing my mother’s body plummet off the edge of that cliff again and again.

“I thought you’d be a faster swimmer,” a low voice behind me says. It’s Rhythe.

“No one asked you what you thought,” I snap.

“You didn’t gather with the other Saltbloods,” he says, only loud enough so that I hear.

“I haven’t made up my mind. Your help wasn’t very inspiring on the beach.” In truth, something about him unsettles me. But an alliance could be smart, especially if he knows things about what’s coming.

“What are you saying?”

I cross my arms. “I’m not sure you offer much.”

His chin lifts in challenge, and with a flicker of mirth. It unsteadies me. “I briefed them on the current the minute I saw it. You’d know that if you gathered with us.”

“It looked like you couldn’t care less if they made it to shore or drowned.” His eyes narrow, but he shifts closer to me. I step back. “I assumed you’d be in,” he says. “Axira Merreri.”

My name. “Do we know each other? Have we met?” Maybe I’ve forgotten.

He shakes his head. “No. Your reputation precedes you.” He knows I’m a smuggler.

“Are you in…trade too?”

He doesn’t respond for a beat. “Are you with us or not?”

He avoided my question. “My trust is not given. It’s earned. Tell me what you know about the remaining trials.”

His cold eyes study mine. But again, there is something simmering underneath. “Second trial will be in Grainfolk district.”

“How do you know that?”

His jaw works. “The first trial was in the Saltblood district, at the sea. I reason they will shift advantages each trial to spread them among us. Stonebound district makes the most sense for the third trial—Trial of Strength—because of the steep ranges. Are you in?” His attention feels like a stone sinking in my gut. There is something calculating about him, not warm, not helpful, but chilling and determined. I don’t trust it.

“What would an alliance with you mean, exactly?”

“It means I help you with what I know. And in exchange you stop talking to him.” He tosses his gaze to the prince. Then, he narrows the distance between us and the hair on my skin stands.