For a second, smoke hits my nose and I see the bodies on the rooftop. I press my eyes closed and suck in a breath through my mouth. When I open them again, I’m still in the monastery, and the memories abate.
“He wasn’t cursed,” Saipha whispers. “Merely hungry.”
“He asked for Mercy,” Lucan says solemnly.
“And it was given gladly.” She shakes her head and looks away.
There is nothing in Vinguard more unforgivable than being dragon cursed. But disobeying Mercy Knights, and the will of the Creed, are close seconds. He signed his fate multiple times over.
“We should go.” Lucan starts for the stairs once more.
The three of us make our way to my room as the sunset glows orange through the window at the far end of the hall. Lucan shuts the door with purpose, putting his weight against it. His expression is calm and collected, probably the result of years of practice under the vicar’s roof, but I can tell he’s as stressed as Saipha and me.
“They know. They all know we have food.” Saipha begins to pace. This is the most on-edge I’ve ever seen her. “They’re going to come for us.”
“Saipha, they don’t know if it’s true or not. Benj soundedabsolutely crazed—he asked for Mercy, for Valor’s sake. I doubt most of them will put any stock into anything that came out of his mouth,” Lucan says calmly.
If Saipha hears him, she doesn’t react. She’s half a world away. “They will come in the night, and they will kill us for our food. We should get rid of it.”
“We are not getting rid of our food, Saipha,” I say firmly. “That’s the only reason we have any strength at all, and we’ll need that strength to fight them off if theydocome.”
“We only have a little left anyway.” Lucan opens the lockbox at the foot of my bed with a grimace. Two stale rounds of flatbread. Three bags of dried mushrooms. And who knows how long we have to hold on before the next test… Assuming they stop starving us after that.
“Why are they doing this? Why would they do this?” Saipha continues pacing.
“To try to force the curse to manifest,” Lucan says.
She stops and shivers, wrapping her arms around herself.
After a moment, I suggest, “Let’s all sleep together.”
Saipha halts.
Lucan tilts his head and quirks a brow, and I quickly realize what I said and clarify with a soft cough to clear my throat. “We’ll pull my mattress to Saipha’s room, since hers is farthest from the stairs, at least by a small margin, but it’s something that might give us a better chance to hear someone coming down the hallway. The doors open in, so maybe we can use her lockbox as a barricade. Two can sleep while one stays on guard duty.”
“Sounds good to me.” Lucan nods.
“I’d probably feel better not being alone,” Saipha agrees. It’s a relief to see her calming.
We do exactly as I suggested. My mattress takes up nearly all the floor space in the small room, but it does fit flush between Saipha’s cot and the opposite wall. Then I take the firstwatch. Saipha is on her bed, and Lucan on my mattress on the floor, each falling into a restless sleep. Nothing happens. No inquisitors and no supplicants come for us. Not on my watch. Or Lucan’s. Or Saipha’s.
“Did we really make it through the night?” Saipha’s disbelief is palpable.
“Looks like.” I yawn.
“The day can pose just as much of a threat,” Lucan says grimly. He’s sitting on the lockbox in front of the door. “We should stay here. They’re not feeding us anyway.”
“Wouldn’t it be suspicious if we don’t leave?” I rub my brow, trying to alleviate the pain pulsing between my temples. I’ve never been this hungry before in my life.
“That’s a good point. Maybe we go out in shifts? One here while two go out?” Saipha suggests.
“Then they could know that there’s only one person here guarding.” Lucan frowns. “I don’t think we should leave.”
“I suppose if we don’t, it conserves our energy,” I muse. “Everyone’s been sleeping later and napping more…maybe it won’t actually look that suspicious?”
Saipha sighs in agreement and stretches back out, staring up at the ceiling. There’s not much conversation the rest of the day.
We’re down to just one wheel of cheese for the three of us the next day. None of us are convinced that they’re going to feed us even after the test. The fear of the other supplicants has lessened some the longer the days drag on. Everyone is too weak to launch any kind of meaningful attack on us, even when we venture to the bathroom at the end of the hall for water or other needs. And while we’re in a much better position than most thanks to our rationing, a toll has been taken on our bodies.
