Total pages in book: 295
Estimated words: 282090 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1410(@200wpm)___ 1128(@250wpm)___ 940(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 282090 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1410(@200wpm)___ 1128(@250wpm)___ 940(@300wpm)
“You get your running landing yet?” Imogen asks on Friday.
Sloane is thrown to the mat again, and we wince from the side of the gym, our backs to the wall so no one can sneak up behind us. Sloane’s back has none of that protection and is going to be black and blue tomorrow.
Unlike Rhiannon, who’s in here leading the extra sparring time she negotiated for all of our squad’s first-years against some others from Third Wing, Imogen and I are here in full uniform between classes for only one reason—Sloane—and her terrifying lack of skill. We were hoping to see that she’s improved over the week. She hasn’t.
“Tairn won’t let me out of the saddle,” I say quietly, like he isn’t constantly in my head since my near burnout on the mountaintop.
“I heard that,” he grumbles.
“Only because you’re listening.” When shifting my weight doesn’t help, I take a step off the wall to relieve the pressure on my tight, red skin. At least the physical remnant of my near burnout has dimmed to nothing more painful than a sunburn, but it’s annoying as hell.
“Strengthen your shields and perhaps you won’t require monitoring.”
“Not completing maneuvers? Refusing to bring Andarna to class?” Imogen gasps with mock surprise. “Aren’t you just becoming the little rebel?” Her gaze darts over my face, then drops to my neck. “Your friends still think you lost control during a training session?”
I nod. “If they knew what really happened, they wouldn’t leave my side.”
“You’d be safer,” she notes.
“They wouldn’t be.” End of subject.
“Keep your eyes on your opponent!” Rhi shouts at Sloane from the sidelines just as Sloane does the opposite, glancing down as she nears the edge of the mat, and that’s all her opponent needs, the first-year landing a jaw-cracking punch that sends Sloane sprawling.
Imogen and I both flinch.
“This is sparring, not a challenge! Come on, Tomas!” Rhi snaps at a squad leader from Second Wing.
“Sorry, Rhi. Pull it back, Jacek,” the squad leader chides.
“Damn.” Imogen shakes her head and folds her arms. “I get that Jacek’s channeling some serious anger, but I’ve never seen him hit that hard.”
“Jacek? Like Navil Jacek?” The second-year from Third Wing Jesinia and I saw hauled away by Markham was listed on the death roll a couple of days ago.
“That’s his younger brother on the mat,” Imogen says.
“Shit.” Now I feel bad for the guy, even though Sloane is in a similar situation. “I think Markham had him killed,” I whisper.
“Because he didn’t return a book on time?” Imogen’s eyebrows rise.
“I think he asked for something he shouldn’t have, and yes, I know that sounds absolutely ridiculous, but there’s no other explanation for him being found in his room, beaten to death.”
“Right,” Imogen muses. “That only makes sense if he’s one of us.”
To others, it fits in with what Panchek is calling a particularly brutal start to the year. I’m the only one in our group who hasn’t had another attempt made on their life.
“You’d better be really careful around your little robed friend if scribes are running out there ordering the death of riders.”
“Jesinia isn’t a threat,” I protest, but my words die in my throat as I remember that it was her report that got Jacek taken in the first place.
“Let’s end it,” the squad leader from Second Wing suggests after Sloane gets knocked to the mat again.
“I’m fine!” Sloane staggers to her feet, wiping blood from her mouth with the back of her hand.
“Are you sure?” Rhi asks, her tone implying it’s absolutely the wrong decision, which we all know it is.
“Definitely.” Sloane takes a fighting stance against Jacek.
“Glutton for punishment, that one,” Imogen says. “It’s like she wants to have the shit kicked out of her.”
“I don’t understand.” Aaric shifts ahead of me, his back blocking the view, and I maneuver to see the mat. “I thought everyone marked was trained to fight.”
“Depends on where we were fostered.” Imogen moves forward with me. “And after Xaden started to climb the ranks…well, some of the families in charge stopped training us, according to what I’m hearing from the first-years. Good thing she wasn’t on the challenge board this week.”
Jacek puts Sloane on the mat for what feels like the hundredth time, then brings his knee to her throat, making his point. If this were real, she’d be in a world of trouble.
“Her first is on Monday, and she’s going to have her ass handed to her if not worse.” I unsheathe a dagger and flip it, catching it by the tip, like my skills can in any way help her when she won’t even speak to me.
“Monday?” Imogen turns slowly to look at me. “And how would you know that?”
Shit. Well, it’s not like she isn’t already holding almost every secret that could get me killed. “Long story, but…a book my brother wrote.”