Page 63 of The Heart Trials

I turn to face him. “Kade, I think Lira was enjoying the Grainfolk she was talking to yesterday.” I don’t know if Finn is responsive to her advances, or if Orrick has seriously gotten her attention, but I revel in the irritation setting in Kade’s jaw. “And she has someone else interested from what I saw. You might be out of luck. Again.” It’s petty and childish. But I’d do anything to wipe that smug grin off his face. He ignores me, fixing his attention on Lira.

“I haven’t made any final choices of who my match is, just to be clear,” she says, holding her plate carefully in one hand.

“It’s going to be me,” he says. “I’ll be waiting.”

I dry gag. She leaves him there, glancing back at him before finding a seat. When she sits down, Orrick pops up behind her and slides into the seat across from her, grinning. A leaf falls from his hair.

“Eww!” She hops up, and I feel bad for him.

“Stay, please,” he asks. But she hurries off and sits beside Talia, who’s waiting for Jace to return with a plate for them to share. I look for Rhythe, expecting to find him watching his little plan unfold nicely. But he is sharpening something by his tent, with Ivy a few paces away from him. They are far enough apart that I can’t tell if they are talking. But Ivy wasn’t in his little alliance meeting. She’s either clinging awkwardly to him or Rhythe is using her to look like he’s here for the right reasons.

Where is Caelus?

As if he can hear my thoughts, he emerges from his tent like a moonlit tide, calm only on the surface. He must be frantic knowing there is no real way out of here for him without a match. But he doesn’t exactly seem to be making much of an effort to pair with someone. I hover at the food table to wait for him, taking my time to find the precise piece of fruit I want.

When he’s in earshot, I whisper, “I met with Rhythe’s alliance last night.”

The line along Caelus’s jaw clenches.

“What do you know about him?” I ask.

“He’s trouble.”

What kind of trouble? I’m about to ask, grabbing an orange. But when I turn around Rhythe is there, standing between us, brows drawn tight. My heart stops.

“Axira,” he says, holding a bowl of oats. “You look hungry.” He offers it to me, and I shift, discomfort prickling through every inch of me. Our hands fumble as I take the hot dish I do not want from him.

Caelus watches the strange exchange, the crease between his eyes deepening, drawing conclusions that aren’t there. Wait, I want to say, but Caelus crosses the arena to sit by himself.

When he is gone, Rhythe glares at me. “I told you—”

“Back off, alright! I can handle myself.” I shove the bowl back into his hands. “We can help each other, but you don’t own me.”

Tension tightens in his face like a thread tugged too tight in an old garment. His jaw hardens as he steps toward me, fuming. I step back, reaching for my bun, forgetting the blade is not there anymore. Caelus is paces away but stops when he notices the hostile exchange.

Then, a siren blows as Mercyenforcers flood the arena.

People scatter in chaos, slipping on new linens and putting on our issued shoes before the Mercyenforcers line us up without explanation. It can’t be a second trial already, can it? The Benevolent said there would be an elimination before each trial. We’re due another one. But even that, already? Not even a full day after Ronan died.

We’re split in half and led from the arena inside the steel palace to a room where tiny orbs of warm gold float like fireflies beneath a metal ceiling. There are flowers and cozy cushions. This place is masterfully arranged as if love might spark like flint to steel. A hazy pink fog hangs in the air, and it reminds me of the cloud that erupted above the bed they gave me the first night here.

My pulse picks up.

I don’t want my senses screwed with. I try to back out the door, but the others shove me forward and out of their way. So, I find the quickest seat I can get into. Tables for two are draped in deep purple and silver. Petals cover the floor. I’m frozen in the doorway, the smell of the room making my head feel fuzzy. Soft music plays from somewhere.

“Bonding tables,” the Mercyenforcer says. “You’ll talk with each person in this room to have a chance to get to know each of them. Your goal is to get them to like you by using conversation cards.” He pulls them out, and I lean against the door frame, wishing I could disappear into it. Not these again. “When you hear the bell,” he goes on, “participants on the right side of the room will move to the seat on your right. This is not an elimination. But the next one is coming and doing well then starts here, now. You have five minutes. Go.”

Flickering candles at the center of the tables cast halos of light as people fill in the chairs. Caelus moves from the rear, and I march over to his table and sit across from him. We need to talk, and this is our chance.

A bell chimes.

Caelus and I grab a conversation card so we at least look like we’re doing what we’re supposed to. “Rhythe is not a safe choice, Axira,” he says in a low voice. “Even to betray.”

“I did not pick him. He just doesn’t want me talking with you. He says you’re not trustworthy. That’s why he reacted that way.”

“Has he figured out that we’re together? Working together, I mean.” He tugs at his collar.

“He hasn’t.”