“Mavis?” Talia whispered.
“Yeah?”
“Do you think we’ll make it out of here alive?”
There was a breath of silence. The heaviness of the question sat on my chest.
“I hope so,” I said.
But I knew hope wasn’t enough. If I wanted to make it out alive, I’d have to do more than hope—I’d have to fight.
Chapter 31
“Sentries are tasked with protecting the realm from threats both foreign and domestic.
Duty knows no kin to lawlessness.”
-Article 3, Section 5, of the Veiled Compendium
The Facility - Day 6
“This is where we’re doing this?” I asked, voice flat.
Rowan didn’t even glance back at me as he walked toward the center of the gymnasium.
“It’s private,” he replied.
When Rowan first appeared at my door this morning and told me to “put on something you can bleed in,” I had half a mind to slam the door in his face. Instead, I followed him.
He led me to the base floor, down a maze of concrete halls that reeked of metal and rust. It was nothing like the main level. The lights flickered as we passed, their buzzing like a chorus of dying flies. I was skeptical that we could go somewhere without watchful eyes.
The gym looked like it had been abandoned for decades. The air was thick with mildew and old sweat. One of the ceiling panels was cracked and drooping. The floor mats were torn and uneven, crackling underfoot like dried leaves.
“Why is it so humid down here?” I asked, wiping sweat from my temple already.
“The boiler room’s on the other side of that wall.” He gestured lazily. “Turns this place into a sauna. Perfect for training.”
“It’s creepy.”
“It works. That’s what matters.”
I scoffed as Rowan tossed me a set of knuckle wraps that I barely caught. I didn’t know what to do with them, so I just watched him tighten his and repeated what he did.
I squared up opposite him on the mat, mimicking his stance. It felt awkward, stiff—like I was wearing someone else’s body. In contrast, he resembled a predator toying with its prey.
“Don’t go easy on me,” I warned. If I were pitied, I would never advance.
Rowan smirked. “First, let’s just see what you know.”
I launched forward—too fast, too wild, and entirely off balance. Rowan sidestepped, anticipating the strike before I even moved, and my fist sliced through empty air.
“Try again,” he said smoothly.
I turned and struck again—this time with more focus—but he ducked, spun, and ended up behind me before I could blink. My elbow came up, hoping to catch him on the turn, but all I hit was the ghost of where he’d been.
“You’re dancing,” he said. “Not fighting.”
I gritted my teeth and tried again. Another miss. And another. He wasn’t even breaking a sweat.
