Page 96 of The Heart Trials

But Caelus’s words about the magic die on my lips. The more Miss Omon knows, the more she is at risk if questioned.

She steps closer, speaking lower. “Maybe we can make arrangements for Serafina, say that she’s your sister. There is a man who forges papers in Brine End. What if we could get them to let you bring her here and raise her as yours? The others and I will be fine.”

“You want me to stay here?” I ask.

Her chest glows.

“What did they give you?” I say, realizing whatever she’s on is more than one standard-issue Heartfiller. I’ve never seen her like this.

She touches the spot where the Heartfiller disappeared. “They didn’t say.” She blinks slowly, like she’s trying to pull the words into focus. “Or maybe they did.” She rubs her temple with the heel of her palm. “It’s…a little stronger than usual, but I’m okay.” She offers a weak smile, but her eyes drift to the side, unfocused. “Just tired. Everything feels thick. Like walking underwater.” She fidgets with her shirt. “There’s no one tougher than a Saltblood. You can win, Axira, and never have to smuggle again.”

I stare at her, my heart thudding, the edges of the world suddenly too sharp. Her voice is too eager, too certain. This woman who taught me how to be unreachable, untouchable, is now pleading with me to settle, to become the very thing she hates.

I pull my hand free from her grip, stunned by how cold the glove feels now. “No.” My voice cracks, but rises. “I will never be a Skyborn. We are getting out of here. I have a plan. The less you know the better. But I am coming for you soon. We don’t need to trade Saltblood chains for Skyborn ones. They’re not free here. Can’t you see that?”

“I see these nice walls, this safe palace, that full table.”

“You’re wrong.” It hurts to see how dulled she is because of the Heartfiller buried in her chest. I’ve watched her live under their haze forever, but now I see them for what they really are—chains, disguised as escape. Giving a veneer of happiness that isn’t actually real.

“You have your father’s ambition. And none of your mother’s discipline. I hope you know what you’re doing. Swim with the current, Axira, or drown.”

A chill skitters down my spine. My mother’s words. I can still hear the exact tenor of her voice when she said that to me time and time again. When I would get my foot stuck in rocky clefts along the shore and try to force it out of the hole without turning it this way or that. When I would jam up the fish storage door, shoving the key in the lock upside down, over and over, convinced it would work with enough force. Or when my fishing line knotted and I pulled it tighter and tighter until the whole thing became useless. My mother always said I was fighting the right way of things.

My father would come behind her and say, “Like water carves its own path, Axira finds her own way.” The storage door eventually did open. It also damaged the door. And I cut that knot out of the fishing line, tied two ends together, and it was as good as new.

I know I am right about this too.

“Will you wait for me?” I ask. “I’ll send as much notice as I can to alert you when I’m coming.”

She doesn’t respond right away. “I’ll wait, Axira. I’m scared. But I will wait.”

A rough knock at the door shatters the silence. It’s the guard.

“We wouldn’t want the Benevolent to think you’re not enjoying his generous party,” he says.

Miss Omon strides past me out the door. And the Mercyenforcer keeps in step with her. I walk listlessly behind them, feeling less sure than I did this morning. So much is on the line and yet I don’t know if Caelus is even still a contestant or what he admitted to.

I have to find him. Wherever he is. Now.

I let the distance stretch between us, falling behind. At the next corridor, I veer off toward the other contestant rooms. That’s when I hear it—a voice, low and sharp, barely above a whisper. The sound stops me cold. For a split second, I think it might be Caelus. I edge closer, round the corner, and spot Kade with his mouth pressed to the throat of a raven-haired woman, her dark curls coiled with thin gold threads and her dress bunched up around her waist.

A Skyborn woman.

With a signet ring on her left hand.

31

Irace back to the reception, catching up to Miss Omon and the guard just as they’re reentering the throne room. “Axira?” she asks. “Are you alright? You’re sweaty.”

The Mercyenforcer and I exchange a glance. No, I’m not alright. Kade is involved with a Skyborn royal. I knew he was a liar. But this? It gives him a huge advantage. Not to mention evidence that he’s probably lying about why he’s here.

“I’m fine,” I tell her.

The guard stands back, allowing us to enter. The scene inside has changed. Everyone is seated at the long table as servers weave in and out to refill plates and cups. Everyone except Caelus. I dig my nails into my fist.

I help Miss Omon to a seat, begrudgingly sliding into a chair beside her. “You should eat. The food is really good.” It pains me to say it. Scents of roasted meat and fresh bread waft past me, but my stomach turns. I need to find Caelus. I need to tell him about Kade, about Ivy, and make sure our plan can still work. I need to see…that he is okay. Emotion wells up in my chest, and I bite the inside of my cheek to urge it back down. I hate how much I think about him. How much it feels like I need him.

The Benevolent clears his throat—a soft, deliberate sound—and backs straighten. Conversations die mid-sentence, movements still. Draped in robes that shimmer like a promise everyone believes, he surveys the assembly. He steps forward, hands clasped loosely behind his back, the glint of his jewelry catching on the sterile light overhead. “I’ve forgotten my manners and have not formally introduced our leading contestants, who have settled on a match.”