I hurried to the tables and stuffed a pack with food and water, focusing on dried things, flasks that sloshed to show they were full. Anything that wouldn’t go bad fast, because I had a feeling this was only the start of the Rite of Bonds. Returning to the others hidden behind the wall, I dropped to the ground, my legs too shaky to support me.
We shared nervous glances before rising and turning toward the dark, looming forest.
“How many do you think are left?” Jaxon asked, squinting toward the open meadow now filled with eerie silence. “It was a massacre.”
“Yeah, and why?” Bryson said. “There must be a reason. People who show magical aptitude are rare. We’re treasured. Honored. Not murdered.”
Except in my court.
And it appeared, in Syllavar.
“Maybe they’ll tell us when we’re warriors,” Derren said.
Lexie nodded along with him. “There better be a good reason or I’ll be the one going on a rampage.”
“I’m with you,” I said, and the rest of our group murmured agreement. Other than Kerralyn, who was recording details in her journal.
A rustling rang out from the forest, and the foliage parted, revealing a narrow path leading into the woods.
I caught Lexie’s eye, then Bryson’s, no words needed. We gathered our packs and jogged toward the path.
I half-expected Jaxon to make another joke, but he met my eyes, saying nothing.
We stumbled into the forest that reeked of rot and blood. One in our group softly sobbed. Lexie was swearing. My fingers wouldn’t stop trembling.
I shot one last look back through the opening yawning like a throat that had just swallowed dozens of lives.
The cinderhawk was perched on the top of the wall where we’d hidden, light slanting across its silvery feathers.
Unmoving.
Watching me.
Most birds would’ve fled at the screams or the first scent of blood. But this one had stayed, tracking my every movement with an intensity that made my skin prickle.
It was just a bird. Wild creatures were curious about carnage. But those eyes…
The hawk dipped its head and launched itself toward the meadow.
I didn’t say a word as I turned away. Only clenched my teeth and followed the others into the vegetation, pretending I didn’t feel the weight of unseen eyes on my spine.
The forest swallowed us, cool shadows replacing the harsh sunlight of the meadow. Ferns brushed my legs, and the canopy closed overhead, sealing us in green twilight.
We hadn’t won a damn thing, but we’d survived.
For now.
I was beginning to think that in itself was a miracle.
13
ISI
Ifelt like prey fleeing a predator’s den, my boots pounding the vegetation-strewn path as I ran with my new friends. My lungs burned with each ragged breath, panic clawing at my throat from the carnage I’d seen. Around me, the others gasped and stumbled, their faces pale with the same horror that twisted my stomach into knots.
No one spoke. We couldn’t. Not when the memory of screams and the wet sound of fangs crunching through bone still echoed in our ears.
The jungle pressed in around us, nothing like the manicured gardens of home or even the plains I’d traveled through to reach Syllavar. This was something primordial, alive in ways that made my skin crawl. Enormous trees stretched toward a canopy so dense that only scattered beams of sickly green light filtered through, coating everything in an underwater glow. Roots as thick as my waist burst from the earth, forcing us to leap and scramble over their gnarled surfaces. Ferns the size of castle tapestries whipped my face as I ran, their fronds leaving stinging welts on my cheeks.
