Page 120 of The Mortal Trials

“Anansi recognized the scent of something in it. When he locked you all out with that web, he asked me where I got the tea and who gave it to me.”

August’s blue eyes search mine.

This is the part I dread revealing. “Anansi said that Ogun would only champion you if I tell him.”

“Then I don’t want him as my champion.” He tosses a sea oat stem into the sand.

“You need him.”

“No I don’t,” he firmly says. “I don’t need him. And I’m serious. I don’t want him if that’s his price.”

My heart drops. “I think the champions will be more involved in the games than they have been in the trials. Things are still being decided now. Once they are, having a champion might save your life.”

“Only for so long. We all know how this will end.” August turns his gaze to the temple.

“If Brigid comes to the feast tonight, you should ask her to be your champion, August.”

He doesn’t immediately agree.

“We’re running out of time,” I add.

He nods once.

“August, I think it would be best if –”

“No.” He wraps an arm around my shoulders and pulls me against his side. “Whatever you’re about to say in a tone like that… It wouldn’t, Callalie.”

We sit together in silence, enjoying the salt air and watching the tides, until it’s time to get ready for the feast. It reminds me of the last quiet moments before battle, when you consider everything you’d like to say to the people you love but can’t.

Standing beside the bed where Koda still sleeps, I tie the third and fourth feathers into my damp hair as August finishes in the bathing room.

My ivory dress is simple. Satin with a broad neckline that exposes my collar bones. The back dips low and the hem stretches to mid-thigh. It’s elegant, and it covers the wound over my heart.

I choose a pair of matching tennis shoes for the night instead of going barefoot. My sole is scraped raw from the forest, and walking in the sand wouldn’t be wise. Though I suppose I could ruin Ares’s fun by dying of infection.

Niall clears his throat from the doorway. I wave him in.

“How is he?” he asks, keeping his voice low as he stands at the foot of the bed.

“Still sleeping. But his fever hasn’t returned.”

He puts his hands in his pockets, looking over the room. At anything but me. “Do you have more of the tea?”

I shake my head, wishing I did.

August walks out of the bathing room and greets Niall with a tick of his chin, glancing between us. He’s wearing a casual white suit with polished leather shoes that match. His shirt isn’t buttoned all the way. His hair’s still damp, which makes it look darker than usual. He didn’t shave. A shadow of stubble graces his jaw.

I look away from August and meet Niall’s eyes. His dart away.

August comes over to peer down at Koda. Our friend’s soft, easy breaths are reassuring. He offers me his hand; I wince when I stand and somehow both men notice.

“The scrapes on the bottom of your foot?” August asks.

I nod with a smile.

My thighs are sore. Today’s trial took a toll – the attempt at climbing, jumping from the tree to get to Koda before the boar, even running over the thick, uneven forest floor.

“I’m fine.” The lie I live.