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Reina snickers from nearby. “Aw, look. Puke Face is wearing hand-me-downs. How adorable.”
The nearest twin laughs on cue. Despite Reina’s beatdown—or perhaps because of it—she’s graced me with another nickname.
Mack rolls her eyes. “While you’re handing out clever nicknames, you might want to create your own. I was thinking Busted Nose or Shiner, but that might be too literal.”
Reina’s eyes flash with rage. Inara must have refused to let her be healed after the fight because her nose is still very much broken, and deep reddish-purple bruises circle each eye.
Mrs. Richter blows a whistle, announcing five minutes to finish dressing, and we all switch our focus to the upcoming task.
My nervous fingers fumble with the clasp of my back scabbard, and when it comes to clipping the sleeve to my belt, it’s like my fingers are made of Jell-O. Finally Kyler comes over and helps me, even though she looks as nervous as I am.
I give her a kind smile despite my anxiety. “Thanks.”
She just nods without making eye contact.
Afterward, we all don leather armor to cover our forearms and deflect blows, and light vests woven with special material to protect our vulnerable torso and stomach.
I’ve never felt more like a Shadow Guardian than now, wearing the standard uniform, nor have I ever felt more unworthy of that title.
I crack my neck. Why am I so nervous?
I’ve trained with the crossbow and sword a million times by now. Besides, the last two sessions, Valerian and I synchronized like we’ve been fighting in tandem for years.
Breathe, Summer. You’ve got this.
Adjusting my high ponytail for the millionth time, I follow Mack, Kyler, Layla, and Jace to wait with the others until everyone has chosen their two weapons.
Mack’s fingers shake as she tries to pin the Seelie symbol to the front of her suit, just above where her protective vest stops.
“Let me,” I insist.
The pin was a gift from her dads for luck. Most of the students wear something to champion their side—Seelie or Unseelie—on their uniform somewhere.
Once it’s pinned above her breast, I straighten her fancy leather sword belt. “There. Now you look like a badass ninja.”
Her smile is closer to a grimace. “I think I’m going to vomit.”
I squeeze her arm. “If you do, at least we can have matching nicknames.”
“Reina really pulled out all the brain cells for that one,” Mack mutters, still clutching her belly.
“Don’t worry, I’m here now!” Ruby calls as she zooms over our heads, her little arms clenched around a small device. She tosses the item at me, and it nearly smacks into my face before I manage to catch it.
Mack side-eyes me with a look that says, Ruby? Really?
Because of the way sprites are technically considered a shadow’s possession—and in some translations of the old Fae laws, an actual part of their owner, like an arm or a leg—sprites are allowed to assist their shadows in the gauntlet.
Most students, however, like Mack, opted not to bring theirs.
“I told Ruby no a thousand times,” I whisper, “yet here she is.”
“Have you ever heard of discipline?”
Mack swears I’m too soft on Ruby. That I don’t provide enough rules and consequences when she disobeys me—which is basically all the time.
“Maybe she’ll be helpful?” I nearly choke on my words as we watch Ruby flit over to another shadow’s sleeve and steal an arrow.
Cringing, I force my attention to the device she brought me earlier. It’s a digital map, although I don’t have time to determine the location before they order us out into the night. I clip the GPS onto my belt next to the metal quiver as I walk.
