CHARIDRYN.
My stomach sank. Beside me, Calder had gone still as stone.
“Charidryn, send forth your three.”
Silence stretched. Everyone knew. Everyone in this fucking world knew there was only one.
“Calder Grimm,” Tiberius’s voice carried a note of satisfaction. “Approach.”
Calder turned to me. His eyes were flat, controlled, but underneath I saw the anger. Raw. Desperate. “Get out of here. Whatever senseless thing you’re thinking, don’t. Get the fuck out, Syneca. Now.”
He knew me. Knew where my mind was already racing. Knew the terrible math I was calculating.
“Calder—”
“Promise me.”
But I couldn’t. We both knew I couldn’t.
He pushed through the crowd without looking back, taking the platform steps with the controlled grace of someone walking to his family’s execution.
When he reached the top, Tiberius’s smile was fucking ridiculous. “As the last of the charidryn, there will be no one for you to compete with. You will serve as witness to the Mortalis and our first victor.” The Magistrate spun on his heel to face the crowd. “I give you your first Venatori, fated to be bound.”
Bound to hunt Vitoria. My stomach turned.
The crowd cheered.
The sphere spun.
SPRITE.
A blur of blue shot toward the platform before Tiberius even finished speaking. Pip Willowbend. I’d seen her around the message circuits. She wore a sword the size of a letter opener and enough jewelry to stock a shop. Her wings sparkled with small bits of light, and her blue hair, tied back in a plethora of braids and twists, ended with two buns on the top of her head. It also showed off the teal hue of her large eyes.
“Pip Willowbend volunteers!” she said with a giant smile.
Two more sprites were needed. The crowd waited. And waited.
But fear likely held them paralyzed. These tiny creatures survived by being fast and clever and forgettable but necessary. Why would they volunteer to hunt someone who could burn the world?
Eventually, two were coaxed forward. Their wings trembled so hard they could barely fly straight. One kept looking back at the crowd like he wanted to bolt. The other had gone pale as parchment.
They took their positions with visible reluctance, calling out their own names, though no one could hear them.
As they arranged themselves, my mind wandered. Vitoria was out there somewhere. Hidden or taken or worse. Someone had orchestrated this, painted a target on her back so large the entire city could see it. But who? Who gained from this?
I searched the Oracle’s covered face. She stood perfectly still, her creepy raven watching everything while she saw nothing. Orpretendedto see nothing. There was something wrong about her grief, something performed, I was sure. I knew, because I recognized it in my own actions every single day. She was wrong about Vitoria.
My eyes tracked skyward, searching for a shadow against the dark clouds. Silas had crept away and was up there. I could feel him through our bond. His rage, a living thing, pressing against my consciousness. He wanted to dive. To tear. To protect what was his.
Not yet,I pushed back.Wait.
But for what, I wasn’t sure.
The sphere spun.
SHIFTER.
“I volunteer.”
