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)
"Nah. Titus couldn't have killed you," Beck says. "I had Uther standing up there, hidden from sight. If I thought she was in trouble, I would've had him rip Titus' arms off and beat him over the head with them."
"Like Nessa needs the help of your bear," Ambrose says. "In case you've forgotten. She's got a—"
"Flying fish," I cut in with a meaningful smile.
"Right," Ambrose says. "That."
"Speaking of the Crucible," Mireen says, lowering her voice as we pass a group of legacies on our way to the showers. "I heard it's going to be in the wilderness beyond the academy walls. They'll drop us somewhere in the forest, and we'll have to navigate to a specific point while other teams try to stop us."
"And find a relic," Beck adds. "That's what one of the third-years told me. We have to find a specific relic and bring it back, all while surviving other teams and whatever nasty surprises they've hidden out there."
"Great," I mutter. Though I know from Voss' advice that whatever the third-years say will happen can't be fully trusted. They change the Crucible each year to keep us on our toes. "Sounds like a fun weekend trip."
We split off after weapons training, get showered, dressed in fresh uniforms, and then I sit with my friends in Military Tactics, struggling to focus the whole time and not simply stare at Raith's back, puzzling over what's going on in his mind.
My lips still tingle with the memory of our kiss, followed by his immediate withdrawal. Ever since that kiss, he has been impossible to reach. We trained once together, but he kept it completely professional again. When I did try to talk about what happened, he changed the subject.
I keep replaying his warnings about siphons, about the danger lurking on campus. As much as I try to push it away, part of me wonders if Raith himself could be the danger he's warning me about. The thought makes my stomach lurch with a knotted ball of emotions like thorny vines.
What if Raith is the siphon? It wouldn't be impossible. He did volunteer to come here. He does know things he shouldn't. And he seems adamant that I need to keep my distance from him to stay safe.
"Shall I eat him?" Typhon asks.
Without anywhere good to sit, Typhon is curled up on the stage near professor Pilton. His head lifts at his question, deep blue eyes glinting as his thoughts reach me easily from across the room.
"How about we agree that if I ever actually want you to eat someone, I'll ask? You don't need to keep asking if I want you to eat people."
"Hmm," Typhon grumbles. "And if the option of me consuming your foes doesn't occur to you? Am I permitted to remind you of the option?"
I grin to myself. "Yes. Sure."
Pilton is deep in argument with two legacies over an interpretation of a historical battle. Pilton thinks the primals in the story were reckless, and the two legacies are trying to argue they had no choice.
Mireen leans over, voice low. "So who can we trust for our fifth? For the Crucible?"
I shake my head as Raith's words come back to me. He told me not to trust anyone.
And yet his reasons feel like they're far too ridiculous to say aloud. I can't tell Mireen we can't add a fifth because they might secretly be the siphon hiding on campus. But if Raith was the siphon, he wouldn't have been so worried about us trusting a fifth. Unless he's not the only siphon…
Ugh. It’s a confusing mess and I wish the damn man would just give me a straight answer for once.
"I'm not sure," I whisper back. "Maybe we're better off just keeping four? We know we can trust each other, and we work really well as a team."
She narrows her eyes, making the crescent scar on her cheek crinkle. "Yeah, but going into the Crucible down a person seems like a bad move, right? Especially if Malakai's team targets us. We'll need every advantage we can get."
"I know a few girls," Beck says, leaning forward so I can see him past Mireen. "What are we prioritizing? Body or face? Because if we need both a good face and body, the list is a little smaller, but I could still come up with a couple options."
"Beck, just shut up," Mireen says, shaking her head and smiling slightly.
"There's Lysander," Ambrose suggests, nodding his head to a serious water affinity with black hair parted down the middle. "He's not with Malakai."
"Yeah," Beck says. "Because he's with nobody. Because he's creepy."
"Don't be mean," I say, even though deep down, I find it hard to completely disagree. Lysander has always kept to himself. While that means he's likely not one of Malakai's people, it also makes it hard to trust him.