Page 81 of Demon Touched

“Roll call!” Baxir bellows as Hasteed marches in with a long scroll of paper. She scans the room, eyes alighting on a few faces. Maybe she pretends it doesn’t affect her to lose fledglings every year, but my guess is she can’t help looking for her favorite students, hoping they made it through.

Everyone goes silent, listening out for this next part.

“Answer when I say your name,” Hasteed says solemnly. “Any silences will be viewed as failure in the trials.”

Failures. That’s what the missing fledglings are in the eyes of Aradis. They didn’t die. They didn’t give up their lives for a cause. They failed.

“Adain Aboah,” Hasteed calls out.

“Present,” Adain calls.

“Ariat Aquell.”

“Present.”

The first time Hasteed calls a name and no one answers, everyone stiffens. She calls the name again, and when she’s met only with silence, she lifts a pencil to the scroll and makes a mark.

“May he shine in the Everlight,” she pronounces, and there are murmurs of agreement throughout the dining hall.

Then she continues. On and on it goes, until suddenly we’re at the Is, and I realize Filippa’s name is going to come up, and she won’t be here to answer.

And then everyone will assume she’s dead.

“Esthrin Icalsus,” Hasteed calls.

“Present.”

Should I say something? Explain where she really is? I can’t let people believe she’s been killed, right?

“Fastor Igrasian.”

“Present.”

Would I get kicked out of the trials for breaking the rules? More importantly, would it screw Filippa over? If I stay silent now, will there still be a way back for her?

The rule, so far as I’ve been told, is that you’ve got to get yourself home from the battlefield. I don’t think it specifies when. If Filippa turns up in a few weeks, alive and healed, maybe she can tell some story we’ll spin together about how she was injured but dragged herself to safety and fought through it. Then she’s still a brave warrior who didn’t rely on anyone to survive.

“Filippa Illidore.”

Silence.

Several heads turn toward me, and I drop my gaze to my lap, squeezing my fists tightly as I pray for the moment to pass.

Fillipa told me to stop meddling in her life, so I’ll wait until she can speak for herself. Then she can tell me what she wants me to reveal.

“May she shine in the Everlight,” Hasteed intones.

I bite my lip just as a hand lands on my shoulder, and I look up to see Rowan’s sympathetic expression. There must be something on my own face he doesn’t quite expect, because I watch his sympathy give way to confusion, but then Hasteed is moving on.

“Leah Illidore,” she calls.

“Present,” I answer, the word coming out croaky, which probably sells the idea I’m mourning my cousin, but makes me feel like crap.

It at least gives me good reason not to make eye contact with anyone else over the rest of the roll call, until we get to the Os.

“Efram Odais.”

Silence.