Just when I think I see a familiar landmark or face, I get turned around again. My bones ache, and my eyes are heavy. All I want is to fall onto my sleeping mat and stay there forever.
After my event, I went back to the healer’s tent to help. There were several deaths today, unfortunate losses, but accidents happen. Hundreds of injuries from broken bones obtained in hand-to-hand combat to gaping gashes sustained during jousting.
When the last patient was brought to us, we had to put a salve and bandage on the wound because none of us had even an inkling of power left to give.
It had been a good distraction, though. I had not realized how much I wasn’t thinking about the tournament and mytaskuntil we had finished cleaning up, and I started making my way to bed.
Finally, I locate my little one-person tent that Phil and I had set up for me earlier. I’m so grateful I don’t have to walk all the way back home. Besides, I’d rather sleep here than have to face Demitra each day after the tournament.
When I open the flaps, however, I start to regret my decision. It takes every effort not to scream at the unexpected sight of him.
“I noticed you didn’t take any opportunities to eliminate our problem today.” He’s sitting on my sleeping mat, and I jump when he speaks.
I had felt him watching me. All day long. Similar to the feeling in the tavern the other night, his eyes on me carry a weight and darkness that I have never known. This tournament is pressure enough without knowing he’s out there spying on me. Expecting me to murder for him.
“I’m not sure what opportunities you saw, but I am doing this my way, which means I refuse to rush it.” It’s not like I had ample time to commit a murder. Not one I’d get away with, anyway.
He stands from the mat to loom over me.
“You had better come up with a plan soon. Your stunt today landed you more attention than I like. I can only promise your safety for so long. And Dolan is dead-set on ruining everything.”
His words are sobering. “Is that a threat?”
One side of his mouth curls into a smirk, and he tilts my chin so I’m forced to meet his eyes. “Think of it more like a promise.Secrets are like snakes. The best way to kill a snake is to cut off its head.”
I stand my ground, refusing to let him see an ounce of weakness. If he could read my mind, he’d know I’m all but terrified, but my words are confident when I respond. “If you’re so set on killing me, why don’t you just do it?”
He drops his hands, flexing them at his sides. “There are bigger problems to deal with at the moment, little snake.” His exasperated sigh tells me it pains him to say the next words out loud. “Is there anything I can do to help move things along?”
It occurs to me that maybe I could use his expertise, but I fully refuse to ask for help. When I don’t respond, he says, “You can trust me, you know.”
I don’t know why it sets me off. “Of course I can’t fucking trust you. How could I? I don’t even know your godsdamned name.”
“That’s fair. But please answer the question.” He expertly dodges my anger.
Can he help me? “Not that I can think of. You’ll just have to be patient while I come up with a plan. If that’s too challenging for you, maybe do your own dirty work.” I sneer.
He clicks his tongue.
“My tent is the next one over if you change your mind,” he tells me as he leaves me alone to simmer. There’s nothing comforting about the knowledge that he’s sleeping a few steps away. “Oh, and Arina?”
I raise my eyebrows, acknowledging him.
“Consider cutting that damn braid off. It’s going to get you hurt.”
I play with the frayed ends of my braid. I want to tell him to fuck off, but I know he’s right. My hair is a hazard, a weakness. I’m too stubborn to listen, though. I’m proud of the patience it’s taken to grow it to this length, and I’m not willing to part with it.
Still, I give him a curt nod.
Before he turns to leave, he shoots a look at me that I can’t quite place.
“Raiden,” he says.
“Huh?”
“My name. It’s Raiden.”
I stare at the spot where he was standing for far too long.
