Total pages in book: 214
Estimated words: 195876 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 979(@200wpm)___ 784(@250wpm)___ 653(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 195876 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 979(@200wpm)___ 784(@250wpm)___ 653(@300wpm)
"Fifteen?" My throat tightens. "That's—"
"A small army," Raith finishes. "More than half the surviving first-years. And they're all coming for anyone who isn't with them."
"Including us." It's not a question.
"Especially us." He runs a hand over his face, the scars stark against his skin in the corridor's harsh light. "I've been trying to build alliances of our own. Talking to other fires, some airs who are on the fence. Even a few earths who haven't bought into Malakai's bullshit."
"That's why you've been missing training? You're building your own army?"
"Not an army. A safety net. People who will watch each other's backs during the Crucible." He gives me a pointed look. "People who will watch your back."
Something warm unfurls in my chest at his words. Despite all his talk about keeping me at a distance, he's still been working to protect me. He almost makes it sound as if all of his efforts are just to keep me safe. But the thought is ridiculous, and I dismiss it before it can take root.
"I can take care of myself, you know," I remind him, though there's no real heat in it.
"I know you can," he says, surprisingly serious. "But nobody survives Confluence alone, Nessa. Not even you. Especially not this year."
We've reached a junction in the corridor—left leads to the channeling classrooms, right to the fire tower. We both stop, hovering in that space between parting and staying.
"Cade reminds you of someone," I say. "That's why you're helping him, right?"
Raith goes very still. "What makes you say that?"
"The way you looked at him. Like you were seeing someone else. And what you told me about your brother. Gareth. It just seemed like maybe there was something there…"
He's silent for so long I think he won't answer. When he finally speaks, his voice is rough, like he has to force the words out.
"He’s a lot like Gareth. Yeah." The admission seems to cost him something.
I wait, not pushing, giving him space to continue or not.
"Gareth was a fire, like me," Raith says, his eyes fixed on some distant point. "My younger brother, but still smaller than other kids his age. Easy target."
I hear what he doesn't say—that Gareth isn't alive anymore. That something happened to the brother he speaks of in past tense.
"Is that why you came to Confluence?" I ask softly. "Because of Gareth?"
His eyes snap back to mine, suddenly guarded again. "He's one of the reasons. Yes."
It's not the whole truth. I can see it in the way his shoulders tense, the way his elemental, Pyrin, paces restlessly at his feet, flames flickering with agitation. But it's more than he's shared before, and I know better than to push my luck.
He takes the brief pause as an opportunity to change the subject. "Have you and your fish started practicing together yet?"
"Tell the scarred fire human I am not a fish. I am a dragon who chooses, out of generosity, to appear as a fish to avoid terrifying the lesser beings around me. As one who has seen my true form, I expect him to acknowledge the grandeur and splendor and not make foolish fish jokes."
"Not yet. But I'll make sure we do soon."
"Good," Raith says, but there's warmth in his voice. His eyes meet mine, and for a moment, there's no impending Crucible, no danger, no complications—just the two of us standing too close in an empty corridor, drawn together by something neither of us fully understands.
"I should let you get to class," he says, breaking the spell.
"Right. Yeah. Sestra is going to pop a blood vessel with how late I am. Gods know she already hates me for being a failure of a water channeler."
"You didn't tell me you were struggling in classes."
"Just channeling..." I look around, making sure we're alone. "What I am... it doesn't work the same way as a normal affinity. Nothing she teaches works for me. And I can't keep up with the other waters. But I can't show Sestra I'm progressing in other areas. Obviously. So... she just thinks I'm terrible and despises me for it."
"Fuck her."
I laugh. "I don't see how that would help."
Amusement touches his expression. "You know what I mean."
"Yeah, well... I should get going."
His expression turns serious again. "Be careful, Nessa. These next few weeks before the Crucible—they're going to be dangerous. Malakai's making moves, and he's not the only threat out there."
"The siphon," I say quietly. Cold, icy terror slips under my skin at the memory of that feeling the other night—like something hungry was lurking just out of view and waiting to strike.
He nods. "Just... watch your back."
"I thought that was your job," I say, trying for levity.
"It is." His voice drops, sending a shiver down my spine that has nothing to do with fear. "But I can't be everywhere."