By the time I’m finished, I collapse onto the bed, exhaustion heavy in my bones. Saipha catches me up on the other supplicants’ tests—no one was exposed as dragon cursed, but Cindel seemed to get in a competition with three others for who could pray the longest, holding up the rest—as I fall into a deep sleep.
The next morning, we head down together to the central atrium, hoping to find the refectory open. To our relief, we find more than enough food for all of us. The supplicants fill the room, eating in silence like it’s the most serious task in the world, and after what we’ve been through, it probably is.
The odd silence, broken only by the sound of cutlery scraping against plates and occasional whispers, is interrupted as one curate and two Mercy Knights enter the hall. The knights have their hoods drawn like inquisitors. It sends a shiver of dread down my spine. What is it they plan to do that would warrant covering the majority of their faces?
Wearing a pitying smile, the curate crosses to Cindel. He ushers her off to the side, much to her apparent confusion. The rest of us don’t even bother to hide our curiosity.
Without warning, a shrill shriek reverberates through the hall, echoing off its rough-hewn walls. Cindel covers her mouth with trembling fingers, standing up, wide-eyed. The curate gives a solemn nod.
“You’re lying!” Tears begin to stream down her face.
Whatever the curate says is lost to our ears, but her tremors become almost violent. The curate continues to speak in hushed tones, but Cindel says nothing more. Horror has overtaken her, an expression all of us know too well.
I think part of me understands what’s happening even before the curate leaves, the knights in tow. I don’t say anything, because the right words are just beyond the realm of my conscious thought. Yet, somewhere in the back of my mind, I already know.
It isn’t until Cindel turns her eyes toward me that it really begins to crystalize in the forefront. She stalks over, tears staining her flushed cheeks. Hands balled into fists.
“What is your problem?” Saipha says. I wish I could tell her not to speak, but it’s too late.
“Nothing with you,” Cindel says, her eyes sweeping over Saipha to me. I swear the room drops in temperature as her focus rests squarely on my face. If looks could kill, I wouldn’t be breathing. She’s always resented me for being Valor Reborn, but this is something different. Jealousy is one thing, annoyance another. This expression is pure hostility. “Why are you here,Isola?” She spits my name like venom.
“Excuse me?” I don’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t this.
“What’s the point of you?” She’s suddenly screaming, lunging for me. Lucan is on his feet, practically jumping over the table. Even Saipha is scrambling. But Cindel’s faster, my vest balled in her fists. “What good are you if you can’t keep this city safe? You’re supposed to save us, right? That’s your job as Valor Reborn? Then do it.Do it!” Spittle flies from her mouth, landing on my cheek. I nearly gag but control myself for fear of her reaction. Her eyes are wide and bloodshot, hands worryingly close to my throat.
“Cindel, that’s enough.” Saipha wedges herself between us, attempting to pry Cindel’s hands off me.
Cindel grabs a knife from the table and thrusts. Saipha barely has a chance to dodge. But she manages, mostly. The knife still gouges her arm, but Saipha barely flinches.
I stare at the blood seeping through my best friend’s sleeve, and rage, hot and sharp, fills me from head to toe.
Cindel brandishes the bloody blade at Saipha. “Stay out of this.” My friend remains perfectly still, even as blood drips down her arm. “This hasnothingto do with you. I only have business with her.”
And then she turns the knife on me.
“What do you want, Cindel?” I try to sound as calm as possible, when inside, I’m anything but. She cut Saipha, and hate beats at my chest like dragon wings.
In my periphery, I see Lucan inching closer. He’s no doubt calculating a move as well, and Cindel’s crew sees it. They’ve formed up and are moving closer. The air itself feels like a bowstring pulled taut, chaos ready to be unleashed.
“I want you to do what you’re supposed to do or stop giving us false hope. If you’re the savior of this city, then save us.” The knife clatters as Cindel drops it and lunges for me. Saipha and Lucan move at nearly the same time. I hold up a hand and stop them, not wanting this situation to escalate further. Cindel grips my shoulders. She’s not trying to kill me. If she was, she wouldn’t have dropped the knife and this whole situation would be unfolding very differently. “What good are you if you can’t help us? Why are you even here?”
“Cindel, you’re being ridiculous.” Saipha, even wounded and clutching her arm, doesn’t know when to quit. It’s what’s going to make her an exceptional knight…or get her killed.
But Cindel doesn’t move. Neither do I. She stares down at me with such resentment, such pure and utter and all-consuming hatred.They’re questions I’ve asked myself, I wish I could say. Followed up with,I’m just as scared as you.
“First Benj and then… And then… You should’ve saved her.” Cindel’s whispered words are sharper than a blade.
“What are you talking about?” Saipha looks between us, clearly confused.
“The other night on the roof. The dragons. She died. She’s dead.My mother is dead!” My heart shatters when I hear it. I can only imagine the pain if I lost Mum.“If you had done what you were supposed to do as Valor Reborn—if you had finished these monsters off already—she would still be alive.” She shakes me, her fingers digging in painfully.
“I’m sorry,” is all I manage, and I know it’s not enough.
“That’s it? That’s all you have to say to me? To all of us to answer for your crime of inaction?”
“The dragon attack wasn’t Isola’s fault,” Lucan says.
“If she’d killed the Elder Dragon, as is her supposed destiny, it wouldn’t have happened.” Cindel’s eyes narrow on me. “So, are you going to do it?”
