The possibility of denial, intangible to begin with, ceases to exist. Reeling in shock, I stare at Cassandra. Of course there’s no pulse. Her neck is split from ear to ear.
As if wading through a nightmare, slowly I turn to Carver. He was on watch. “What happened?” I ask.
“I heard a bang. Someone must have thrown her against the door. I opened it, and there she was. Like that.” His expression twists into something terrible. He looks down.
“Why was she out of the room?” I ask sharply.
Carver’s eyes crawl back to mine. “The three teams that were camped in the woods came in tonight. She thought she could get a look at them.”
“By doingwhat?” My voice hardens with anger. Distress. Disbelief. “Breaking into their rooms? If anyone snuck into our suite, we’d kill first, ask questions never!”
Carver looks at Cassandra’s bloodless face, his own face turning completely blank. My heart pounds furiously against my ribs a dozen times before he meets my eyes again. “She said she’d stay in the hallway, see if anyone came out. I don’t know if she did more, or if someone came out and didn’t like her being there. Whoever it was must have been fast and quiet to get the drop on her.”
“Fast and quiet? That’s the least of it! We’re not up against amateurs. What were you thinking, letting her out of the room in the middle of the night? No Gameskeepers around. No servants. No one! And if she wouldn’t listen to you, you should have woken me. Or Griffin. Or anyone!”
Carver’s lean body stiffens. “I thought it was a good idea. I let her go.”
My fury shakes the room. Literally. Guilt is layered on top. Cassandra had no reason to be in this arena except that I asked her.Ibrought her here.
The ground beneath my feet blackens. Lightning coils down my arms and webs between my fingers. Griffin makes a soothing sound and lays his hand on my shoulder, but that just enrages me more. I don’t deserve his comfort.
A jagged bolt shoots from my hand, wild and blinding in the dim room. It flies toward Flynn. His pained grunt mixes with the harsh crack of thunder, and my eyes widen. There’s a hole in his pants. His leg is smoking.
Both my heart and the storm implode at my feet. I rush to Flynn. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry.”
Flynn grits his teeth, backing away from me with a limp. “It’s fine,” he grates out. “I’m fine.”
He’s not fine. Shame and remorse leave me rooted to the spot as Flynn puts more space between us. I want to help him, but I’m afraid to touch him. I think he doesn’t want me to.
Jocasta slips her shoulders under Flynn’s big arm, staggering under his weight and looking at me like she’s never seen me before. I guess she hasn’t. Kato jumps in to help, and they guide Flynn toward a chair.
Selena sweeps past me and then sits next to Flynn. “This, I can do something about.”
She takes out a knife, cuts his pants off above the lightning strike, and then pours clean water over the wound. I can see straight to the bone. Flynn hisses, and my throat closes over. I can’t move. I can’t breathe. I can’t believe what I’ve done.
The sharp sting of magic bites my skin as Selena gently touches the seared flesh. Flynn’s nostrils flare, and his normally tanned face turns bone-white. She increases the power, and he throws his head back, the muscles in his neck and jaw straining.
Jocasta holds his hand, never looking away from his face. Perspiration dots Flynn’s brow. His eyes close, squeezing tight against the pain. He grips Jocasta’s hand so hard it must hurt her, but Jocasta keeps murmuring encouragement in a low, steady voice while I stay frozen in place. I know exactly how much this hurts. It’s ten times worse than the actual wound.
Finally, Selena draws back. Flynn lowers his head, his grip easing on Jocasta’s hand. He breathes deeply, filling his whole chest, and then gingerly flexes his leg. His brown eyes are fatigued but clear of pain.
I let out a wobbly breath and say a silent prayer of thanks, mostly to Selena. When I step back, my boots scrape over my charred footprints. As I look down, something troubling occurs to me. Lightning—offensive magic.
“Son of a Cyclops! If this pops out of me in the arena, we’ll be eliminated.”
Selena slants me an arch look. “Then don’t let itpop.”
“I can’t control it!”
She scoffs. “Of course you can.”
“Really? How?”
Her indigo eyes narrow. “Sarcasm and belligerence won’t help. Try concentrating.”
My jaw drops. Does she think I haven’t tried?
“It’s not an issue,” Kato says glumly. He gently closes Cassandra’s eyes and then crosses her hands over her chest. “We’re out of the competition. We lost our sixth.”
