Two weeks into the training cycle, Orion informs me that the Kosmos is hosting a last ball before the previous game. “I’m not going,” I say, placing my weights down and wiping the sweat from my brow with the back of my hand. Any progress I’ve made towards controlling my emotions shatters instantly as I’m thrown back into the arena, holding Lenny’s limp form.They did this.
“Zellie, you know that’s not an option.”
I ignore him, instead focusing on my training. “Atlas, want to spar?” I call out across the fields. My blood is thrumming—it’s the darkness seeking vengeance, in need ofsomethingto sate it.Atlas is jogging on the track with Merri but stops when he hears me. He nods, heading towards the sparring ring. As we meet, I ask, “Please don’t go easy on me.”
We go a few rounds, circling and jabbing without landing a blow. My punches are sloppy and fatigued, yet I continue. Atlas deals the first punch to my cheek after I half-heartedly attempt to block him. I stagger backwards, clutching my cheek. I allow myself to feel the pain, impressed that I actuallyfeelsomething. It’s a distraction, one that I welcome. Atlas immediately stops, horrified. “Zellie! Are you oka—”
Leo barrels into Atlas’s side, snarling. He slams him into the ground, fists raised. “Don’t fucking touch her!” That’s twice now that Leo has threatened him; Atlas likely will want nothing to do with me from here on out.
“She didn’t even try to block me! I didn’t mean to hurt her, I swear!”
“Get off him!” I shriek, the pain forgotten, shoving at Leo. “What are you doing?”
“Protecting you!” He raises his voice in return.
“From Atlas? Get a hold of yourself.”
“He fuckingpunched you!”
“We were sparring!” I roar, not caring that we’re embarrassing ourselves in front of the others. The anger, the pain—it’s something. Something is better than nothing. I spin, stomping off the training grounds, my cheek throbbing.
Chaos. This is what I wanted, wasn’t it?
Sixty-one
Not ready to head back to the apartments, I make my way into the city without direction. Unintentionally, I find myself in front of Brinn’s bakery. Guilt edges its way into my conscience. I missed the last Children of the Constellation meeting. Nudging the door open with my shoulder, I walk into the busy shop, making my way to the counter. Brinn doesn’t notice me at first, her back turned as she prepares a beverage. As soon as I catch her attention, she does a double take. “Zellie! Oh my stars, your cheek! Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, just a sparring accident.” I wave her off.
“Let me get you something cold to put on that.”
Minutes later, I sit with a bag of ice against my face at a table with Brinn, warily observing me across the table. “What happened?” she asked.
“They’re having another ball.” I adjust the ice.
“The show must go on,” Brinn sighs, shaking her head with disgust.
“They don’t care, Brinn.”
“I know. I’m so sorry.”
I don’t want to hear the apology or to think of what she’s sorry for. “I don’t want to go.”
“I wouldn’t want to either. But…” She pauses, thinking, “It could be an excellent opportunity to make a statement.”
Make a statement or take action? I could do something. Hit them as hard as they hit me. “You think I should?”
“I think you should consider your position.” I hum, slumping back in my chair, the gears in my brain spinning.
“Zellie, what do you need? You look like shit.”
I fight back the tears gathering in the corners of my eyes. “I need this to be over.” I’m going to lose it. I need to get out of here. “Keep me updated. Thank you for the ice.”
“We’re all here for you, Zellie.”
So everyone keeps telling me.
I reflect on my conversation with Brinn as I make the long walk back to my apartment. The ball could be an opportunity to make a statement and raise awareness… but it could also be an opportunity to be close to the Kosmos and attack. For the first time since the fourth game, a smirk twists my lips as a plan hatches.
