As Malachi starts after her, Yosef calls out, “You might want to search her!”
Even though he’s clearly addressing Malachi, Electra’s father watches me like I’m Quinn’s accomplice. Like I didn’t already prove that my heart is no longer in the wrong place.
I don’t say a word. Instead, I take off at a clipped pace.
“Reeve!” Electra jogs after me. “Wait.”
I can’t, because what if it’s the last time I see my best friend? Like me, Quinn has a complicated past. Unlike me, she has no love for the Atlanteans.
“Hayes!” I shout as she approaches the limestone ring.
She turns, moonlight catching in her golden hair.
I want to hear her voice cut across the salt-heavy breeze, promising me—again—that she didn’t betray us. Betrayme.
“I’m glad you found a new family, Reeve.” She turns her attention toward Electra, who stands at my side, parallel but not touching, as if she thinks I might not want to feel her hand on my body. “In case Gaea doesn’t like the color of my soul…look after him, okay?” Quinn’s slender throat bobs. “He’s the best person I’ve ever known.”
My eyes sting. My teeth chatter. My tongue tastes like paper, yet no words bleed onto it or off of it.
Electra brushes a finger along my straining knuckles. I spring my fingers wide and engulf her hand, then tuck her into my side, needing her more than ever in that moment.
“After you.” Malachi gestures to the pit, like he’s being chivalrous instead of a dick.
“If I don’t die, I’m calling head of ops.” For all her fire, Quinn’s next step is hesitant.
“If you don’t die, I’ll be more than happy to serve you.” His tone might be pleasant but the harsh smile kinking his mouth tells me he doesn’t think my friend has a chance in hell of making it out alive.
“I stand witness to that promise, Mal.” Electra rests her head on my thundering pec. “In other words, I’ll be enforcing it.”
Malachi side-eyes Electra. “Just becausehemade it out, doesn’t mean all our enemies will.”
“All our enemies…?” Electra’s neck tautens. “That’s low. Even for you, Mal.Especiallyfor you.”
His cheeks dig in like he’s sucking on them. “Let’s get your trial bloody over with, Caruso.”
Quinn growls as he grabs her arm and drags her into the pit.
I don’t breathe. Not even a shred of air.
For excruciating minutes, the world is silent and so still that even the insects seem frozen midflight.
My lungs cramp. My molars too. Although no marrow-chilling scream or smoke shatters the night, I still don’t gratify my lungs with some much-needed oxygen.
“Gaea is fair, Reeve.” Electra’s reassurance doesn’t reassure me, and Imetthe goddess. Whatdoesreassure me is when she points out, “If her father’s hopped up on our blood, he probably survived.”
I finally…finallytake a breath. It punches into my lungs like Gael’s blade punched into my throat.
“The lack of smoke…” I rasp. “That’s a good sign, right?”
“Cremation isn’t the only way Gaea ends lives.” The answer comes from behind me—from Tarian, who’s drawing nearer, hand in hand with Calanthe.
“You think we can get closer?” I whisper.
“We can try,” Electra says.
We manage two steps before we hit a wall.
Electra looks over her shoulder. “Are you doing that, Tarian?”
