“You have the Queen to be angry at, not her,” Koen grunts. “Get back to training.”
“You have no room to talk, bastard.” Skydance takes deliberate steps towards Koen, gripping his dagger so tightly the veins begin to bulge in his arms. “You shouldn’t even be here,we have heard rumors about what you are… I am shocked the Queen allowed this.”
“She’s the one that threw me in here.” Koen grabs his danger in his sheath, ready to dance in a battle if need be.
“Then I’ll let the flames of the dragons decide your fate.” Skydance’s jaw ticks, snarling at the two of us before spitting at the ground. “Since I follow the Queen and will die for the Queen. And as for her fate,” his eyes glint with satisfaction, as if he knows I am dead anyway, “I will obey the Queen and let the flames take her. But I cannot control the rest of the men.”
Skydance nods for the men to leave, and they begin to walk away, sheathing their daggers against their hips and legs.
“So be it.” Koen violently shoves the dagger back into his sheath, steadily watching them as they walk away in the pit.
“One week.” He looks over towards me. “Stay alive for one week, and maybe the archives have something we can use to protect you in the games.”
“And why are you protecting me, Koen?” I step forward, crossing my arms over my chest.
He sighs, glancing at the men who practice around us before meeting my lingering eyes. “Because you might be the very thing that can keep me from being seen by the oracles.”
Chapter 19
“A true warrior's death is forged by the fire of a dragon. If a Deskyiara dies, their soul must be brought to the top of the mountain tip in the Darklands and allow the God of Fire to scorch their flesh, leaving only their bones.” - Book of Azure
TOMORROW MORNING IS THE SEVENTH day.
A full week here in the dormitory with ninety-nine men, and I have yet to die. I wonder, did the Queen expect me to last this long and will my entrance tomorrow surprise her?
I shrug looking up to the sunset that fades away, crisscrossed against the rust gravel that digs into my thighs in the middle of the pit. I can’t help but feel a sudden rush of pride over my body, knowing I have survived when all the odds have been against me. When ninety-six of the men I have lived with this past week want me dead.I’m thankful to have three who don’t.
My lips tighten between my teeth, anticipation running wild in my chest as I pray to the Gods here for me to survive another day. But also, the hope that the Queen seeing me the day after tomorrow… shocks the shit out of her.
I know she expected the men to do her dirty job.To kill me.Yet, I have survived.
As I look down while the light begins to fade, my fingers glide over my engraved initials against my bow.“S.Q.”
Serene Quinnell.
A gentle smile tugs on my lips as my finger delicately skims across the shimmering, golden string. It contrasts beautifully with the unstained white wood of the bow that Kaine crafted for me just a few days ago. He said it's a symbol of honor and only those with the spirit of braveness are chosen to have the white bow.
But with this present, he has also almost trained me to death. I have practiced the past few days, countless hours under the sun and moon, with Kaine on the bow and arrow. I might be getting there. I have hit the bullseye a few times now, and Kaine seems to think it was the bow that made me catch on so quickly. In my spare time, I have been lifting large rocks with Theon out at the pit so I can wield the sword. It’s still heavy and my arms scream in agony every time I lift it, but I’m getting there.
With Koen, however, the past few days have been oddly tense. Theon and Kaine have noticed it too.
We haven’t exchanged many words. When he instructs me on how to be swift with the techniques to snatch the daggers from my sheath for stabbing or throwing, his gaze barely flickers in my direction. It's as though my presence is a burden to him. As if it’s torture being around me. I’ve tried talking to him about it, but he just reminds me to stay alive and we’ll have the answers soon.
But even though he is shutting me out, every morning I wake to him on the ground beside my bunk, dagger in hand with his hair wildly out of his bun. Every morning, he says it’s the last time, but it never is.And I can’t complain.
Florian has yet to get me out, and I fear the Queen won’t allow him to do so. Neither will Skie.
But as the night sky fills with thousands of tiny stars, glittering across the sky, I know… tomorrow makes seven days of pure torture. And at last, the night of the celebration, while everyone is drunk, Koen and I will sneak off. It’s time to find Tilly.
THE BED CREAKS, THE MATTRESS sinking in with the added weight of someone climbing into my bunk. No one has tried to kill me since three days ago when Koen sliced his hand off for touching me. My eyes snap open, adrenaline coursing through my veins as I instinctively reach for the dagger hidden beneath my pillow. I let out a shaky breath. With a deliberate motion, I wrap my fingers around the hilt, feeling the cold metal. I slowly turn, the blade glinting softly from the torches as I press its sharp edge against the side of...Theon.
“Okay, not bad,” he glints, his icy braids are thrown up into a bun this morning and his ocean eyes sparkle against the dim light. “So Koen isn’t useless after all.”
My eyes narrow as my brows drop, my face emotionless. I remove the dagger from his side, knowing I didn’t pierce his skin, and shove his body off of me. “I could have hurt you.”
“Could you have, though?” He smirks, side-eyeing me as he tilts his head.
“You are so annoying sometimes.” I push him again, sitting upright as I stretch my neck. “Is Death gone again this morning?”
