“Hello!”
My muscles lock up, my heart pounding. I’m far too tired if I didn’t notice someone else in here with me. Mistakes like this will get me killed.
The woman is shorter than me, with wide, light-brown eyes framed by long lashes. Freckles are scattered across her fair skin like specks of paint, giving her a childlike look at odds with the half-bronze sigil on her brow. Long blond hair frames her face as she beams at me.
“Uh. Hi.”
Her smile inexplicably grows even brighter. “I’d thought this was all of us.” She gestures around the other beds with an elegant hand.
“I’m a late addition.”
Her nose wrinkles when she smiles. Gods, she’s cute as a button. I may be slow and out of shape, but everything about this woman screamsperfect victim.
“My name is Maeva.”
“I’m Arvelle.”
“I bet you’re hungry, huh? I was just going to get something to eat if you want me to show you around?”
I nod. If my silence disconcerts her, she doesn’t show it. “These are all gladian barracks,” she says, leading me back into the corridor andwaving her hand toward several other doors. “The healers are down the end here on the corner.”
We pass the spot where I bumped into the black armor-clad vampire, continuing down the corridor. “That’s the common room”—she points to a door on our left—“I haven’t spent much time there. And here’s the dining hall,” she says, unnecessarily.
The smaller tables nearest to us are set for two. Beyond those, four- and six-person tables are filled with gladians—many of whom are currently watching us.
Vampires sit at their own tables away from mundanes and sigilmarked. I half expect them to be drinking blood at the table, but clearly those needs are met … elsewhere.
“That’s … a lot of vampires,” I mutter, and Maeva nods. “So far, most of them have kept to themselves. None of them had to compete in the Sands, and sigilmarked deaths outnumber vampires during the Sundering by at least eighty percent. They usually make it through, and if they don’t, the emperor considers them a disgrace and too weak to succeed as a novice anyway.”
I follow Maeva to the right, where a long wooden table holds more food than I’ve seen in my lifetime.
My mouth waters. At least they’re feeding us. Of course, we’d be unlikely to put on a good show for the emperor if we were half-starved.
Maeva pretends not to notice the hush that falls over the room as she takes a bowl of stew. Another bowl instantly appears in its place, and I startle. Maeva gestures at a large, aether-filled stone hanging on the wall nearby. “The bowls are enchanted with aether and transported directly from the kitchen. Try it.”
Someone snorts behind me. “Gods, they really are scraping the bottom of the barrel, aren’t they?”
The already hushed room goes silent.
So much for not drawing attention.
Taking a bowl, I turn, taking in scarred knuckles, a nose that’s been broken more than once, wide shoulders, and a chest so large the man’s head looks tiny in comparison. His sigil is silver, but it doesn’t quite meet the middle of his eyebrows. That likely makes the man close to Maeva’s power as a bronze half-crowned. He may have a face thatreminds me of a weasel, but his body says he’s been training for the Sundering all his life.
“What do you want?” I keep my words bored.
He leans closer, until I can smell the onions he must have just eaten. “I know who you are, voidborn.”
I’m not a voidborn—my gold sigil proves that. But the fact that my sigil has never grown is unheard of to say the least. There’s no true word for what I am. But I’ve gotten by just fine without power.
When I don’t respond, rage dances in the man’s eyes. Another woman approaches, and he spares her a glance. Her sigil is bronze, and she has the same solid build and blunt chin as the man beside her, but her eyes are filled with restrained violence.
The man leans even closer. My eyes burn from his onion breath, but to step back would look weak.
“You know, our cousin killed your little friend six years ago,” he whispers. “I heard you haven’t fought since.”
The crowd is a roar in my ears. My opponent gives me an opening, but I don’t take it, tripping her instead.
We both go down, but I see the relief in her eyes.
