“Why are you just now saying something?” my father demanded, then shot his scrutinizing glare at me. “Slate? Care to explain?”
Forcing myself to settle within my skin, I held my shoulders back as I met his scowl head-on. “We figured it’d be best to wait until everyone was together.”
“You are only teenagers!” my father boomed, shoving from his seat, making Hazel jump. It was rare when our dad lost his temper, but when he did, it could be downright scary. “Who gave you permission to withhold crucial and sensitive information like that?”
My mom placed her hand on the Supreme General’s arm. “Honey, calm down. You’re being too loud.”
Everyone at the table held their breath as my father breathed deeply and harshly, closing his eyes to force his calm. He pulled the chair back to the edge of the table and took his seat. “My apologies,” he said, clearing his throat. “But you are just teenagers. Do you realize how dangerous that was? Three Elementals, the Regent King at that, against twoteenagers?”
“Do you realize which two teenagers they faced off against?” Chrome asked with an icy calm in his tone that rarely drifted to the surface. Whispers of ice slithered down my spine at the sound. “Did you forget that I have forty-seven fucking Kill Marks?” he asked, not even bothering to lift his sleeve to show. Everyone at this table had been to every single brandingceremony. “And Slate, your son, is next with fifteen. At fifteen years old…sir.”
My father’s nostrils flared. “I’m aware, Chrome. But it doesn’t matter. That was the godsforsaken king.”
Chrome shrugged. “It doesn’t matter who the hell he was. I’d kill him and be done with it all. Doesn’t change the fact that the princess needs to be trained to fight. The sooner the better.” With the authority a sixteen-year-old boy should never harness, he quipped, “Let’s make that happen, sir.” Chrome picked up his fork, ignoring the stillness smothering the room. “Oh! And one last thing. Slate’s gonna be the one to do it.”
Chapter 10
Slate
Four days had passed since the insurgency meeting where Chrome had basically all but ordered the top commander of the Kinetic Warrior Guilds to ensure that Princess Gray would be trained in weapons and sparring. By me, nonetheless. We’d heard nothing in that timeframe, and with each day that passed, we grew more anxious.
I hit the elevator button leading to the basement level of the Kinetic Palace to the training room. It was a vast area divided into sections designated for either weapons, sparring, or magic training.
Walking through the training facility, I found Chrome running through stances with two swords. I walked to the weapons cache and grabbed two of my own. Our weapons posed no serious danger to us. For one, we couldn’t kill each other with Kinetic weapons since they were infused with black crystal, which was only deadly for Elementals. Although, they could be fatal to us if particular organs were gravely wounded and our healing abilities suppressed.
Our blades, however, were dangerous to Chrome. If he happened to be cut or stabbed, he would immediately inject the antidote that the king provided for him. He’d gotten quite creative over the years in disguising it from others in the training room. Usually, he’d discreetly angle his body away from everyone, lift his shirt, and swiftly inject the healing liquid into his stomach. It always appeared as if he simply nursed his wounds for a moment before returning to spar.
Once both my callused fists closed around the hilts of each sword, the blades ignited blue with Kinetic sigils. My gold currents stood out against the olive undertones of my tanned skin.
“Heard anything yet?” Chrome asked, not stopping his rundown of stances as I moved to face off in front of him.
I shook my head. “Not yet, no. Dad won’t tell me much. I guess he doesn’t want to give us too much information since we’re ‘just kids,’” I grumbled, rolling my eyes and then my shoulders to stretch. “Hopefully, I’ll hear something soon.”
Chrome clenched his jaw. “It needs to happen fast. I feel her.” He adjusted positions, pushing himself to loosen his upper body. “She’s not okay, Slate.”
My fists tightened around the hilts of the swords. “What do you mean by that?”
“Her emotions are strong.” Chrome’s nostrils flared and jaw flexed as he dropped into a lunge. “Dark. Extremely dark. She needs help.”
“Right now?” I asked, my heart jumping into action, fearful for her wellbeing.
Chrome jerked his head, a short lock of chromatic hair draping over his brow. “Your father needs to hurry.”
My heart cinched as worry catapulted my mind to the worst of places. “How bad is it?”
Chrome didn’t respond. He just remained staring at a spot in the distance as he fluidly transitioned from one stance to another. My anxiety only increased, needing to be released.
“Let’s go,” Chrome said, straightening his spine and relaxing his arms.
I squared up with him, bracing myself in an offensive stance. The anxiety lined both of our postures as we readied to spar once again. There were very few times I’d best Chrome, usually if he were distracted. Perhaps right now would be one of those times.
I attacked first, slashing one sword down at an arc, but missed, giving Chrome the free opening to go on the offensive. I blocked his blade with one of my own while stepping from underneath and spinning away, using the free sword to swipe at his midsection.
He sidestepped the move and countered it with another maneuver of his own.
Soon, we fell into a lithe dance of lethality. The metal clanged and clashed as we fought to land a blow against the other. I allowed my anxiety to power me through, coming at Chrome from a place of strength and speed while he seemed to concentrate on being precise and agile, making it impossible for me to strike him.
“Fuck!” Chrome shouted, stepping back and dropping his swords to the mats in an uncharacteristic motion. He spun around, jabbing his fingers into his hair and squeezing the strands. His shoulders hunched forward as his breaths came in, harsh and uneven. “She…” he growled. “She’s giving up.”
