Page 189 of The Mortal Trials

Carina believed in the future she saw for us. And though she won’t be here for it, I can forge one with much of what she hoped we’d one day have. I want to make it happen – for her.

That I want something at all surprises me. I’ve been numb for months. Almost a year.

He wiggles his fingers, asking me to dance again.

“I’ll dance with you if you answer three questions truthfully.” I stand straighter and cross my arms.

August easily agrees. “Deal.”

“You’re not going to negotiate and make me answer three in return?”

He grins. “To answer your first question…”

I inwardly groan, having stepped right into that one.

“No, I won’t require three truths.” He shrugs. “You can volunteer what you like or keep your secrets. Your choice.” He whispers conspiratorially, “While I’ll gladly stand here and answer, I’d much rather be dancing with you as we talk. Less chance for others to overhear.”

He has a point.

I walk onto the dance floor with him as the musicians begin to play. He clasps my right hand and settles his left on my waist. I grip his bicep as he begins to lead us in a slow, elegant waltz. He’s more than a head taller than me, but we easily move together, keeping time and rhythm, and I can’t help but wonder what my sister would say if she could see me dancing with him.

I imagine her excited squeal and can almost see her bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet, hands clasped over her mouth, a delighted, feral gleam in her eyes.

“Question one?” he prompts, graciously forgiving my earlier blunder.

I need to know why he wants to live. “Who would mourn you if you don’t survive?”

His brows arch. “You go straight for the throat. Good to know.” He’s quiet for a few steps. “My parents and two younger brothers. Question two?”

“What will happen to them if you don’t win?”

His blue eyes meet mine and hold, and his steps remain smooth and confident. “Happen to them? Are you asking why I deserve to live?”

“Maybe.”

“Why do you?” August patiently waits for my decision to answer. He needs to know up front that if we become allies, it’ll only be for a time. I will fight for my family, even if it eventually means fighting him.

“Without my commission from Morrigan, my family would starve. My grandmother has a home with a tiny garden in the desert sand. It produces joy and little else. My brother is apprenticed. Until he can earn a true wage as a stone mason, he won’t be able to provide even the basics.” I lay the truth bare. “My commission barely does that.”

August nods. “I understand.”

We turn and turn as I wait for his reply. And he finally, quietly gives it. “My family wouldn’t starve, Callalie. But I love them more than anything. I have to try to win so I can go home to them. Especially to Aliver, my youngest brother. The healers have worked miracles for him, but suffice it to say that he won’t understand if I just disappear.”

I only have a few memories of my father. Carina, as the oldest, had far more. Cillian doesn’t remember him at all. But I would imagine death would be as difficult for a child to understand as a mother’s deliberate abandonment. That I remember well, though I have never grasped the reason for it.

“I’m afraid for our families,” he confides, talking in a low tone. “I don’t want them to be harmed for something I did.”

“I am, too.” But I can’t help wondering what August did to earn a nomination. That, I’ll glean later.

I don’t trust any of the gods not to draw our families into this fiasco. Even the benevolent ones can’t be trusted. Some of them will try to bolster their reputations by making the games memorable.

“Do you know any of the other competitors?” I ask my third and final question.

“I don’t,” he emphasizes.

I sigh. “Niall and I served as kern in Morrigan’s army together.”

His brows twitch. “Kern?”