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He doesn’t interrupt. From the corner of my eye, I notice when his head starts to droop.
I pitch my voice gradually lower, not wanting to interrupt any impending slumber. Around the point when the stablehand encounters robbers on the mountain path, I glance up and see Stavros’s eyes have closed. A slow breath rasps from his slightly parted lips.
An unexpected twinge of affection runs through me. I set down the book and douse the light.
The floor doesn’t so much as creak beneath my stealthy feet as I creep back to my sofa. I’ve just bundled myself in my blanket when a prickling sensation digs into my palm, sharp enough that I think it’d have woken me if Ihadbeen sleeping.
I jerk my hand up. The words gleam briefly against my palm.
50 paces into the woods. Alone. Now.
Twenty-Five
Ivy
I’m not sure what time it is until the bell rings three while I’m darting across the outer courtyard. The conspirators have never summoned me out to the woods this late before.
They’ve never summoned me with no advance notice before.
Well, this is a rotten trial, Julita grumbles, as if she’s suffering from the lack of sleep too.
I give my tired eyes a brief swipe, allow myself a moment to long for the comfortable sofa I left behind, and then train all my attention on the task at hand.
Who knows what other tactics the scourge sorcerers might have up their sleeves tonight, designed to rattle me and betray any lack of commitment?
I have to stop by the far side of the equipment building when a patrolling guard swings into view around the corner of the Quadring. As soon as she’s marched well past me, I sprint through the shadows with barely a rustle of the grass.
I take a little comfort in having exchanged my nightclothes for my linen combat shirt and breaches rather than a gown. Casimir chose my dresses well, but I can’t move while smothered in layers of silk the same way I can when my limbs are unencumbered.
If the conspirators think there’s anything odd about my choice in clothing, I’ll simply tell them that I wanted to follow their instructions as swiftly as possible, and it takes much longer to lace up a gown than to pull on a shirt. I’ve worn these clothes around the school plenty of times, so the outfit shouldn’t come as a total surprise.
My racing pulse only starts to slow once I’m swathed in the thicker darkness between the trees. I hurry along the path with my chin raised high, putting on my best noble airs alongside my haste.
Forty-eight, forty-nine, fifty.
I plant my feet on the path and peer into the blackness around me. You’d think after they dragged me out of bed, my evaluators would be prompt about greeting me.
There’s a faint crinkle somewhere behind me to my right, like a foot stepping on a dried leaf. I can’t tell whether it was a human foot or some animal passing by, though.
The hairs rise on the back of my neck.
The air stirsrightbehind me. I move to whip myself around when a sharp edge digs into my scarred back.
My muscles freeze instinctively. My breath halts in my throat.
“Turn left and walk into the forest,” a magically-distorted voice says, no more than a pace behind me. I can’t tell whether that’s a sword, knife, or spear against my back, but any of those options would be equally fatal if rammed deeper. “Keep going until I tell you to stop.”
Drawing more air into my lungs, I force myself to obey.
Twigs snap under my feet as I tramp onto the uneven ground off the side of the path. Leaves brush my arms.
My magic unfurls in my chest, tugging at me to let it bowl over the person who ambushed me. To melt the blade. To send it rampaging through the woods after every comrade who approved of this plan.
No. This is probably just another test, not an actual threat.
I will my power to stay coiled and quiet—not attacking themorme.
After letting it out to play a few nights ago, I find it easier to settle the restless energy. But the farther we walk in tense silence, the harder it gets to suppress my worries.
