Page 241 of The Mortal Trials

He cocks his head. “How many others did she train?”

“None that I know of.”

“She saw something special in you,” he muses, staring like he might see it, too.

Whatever she saw, I almost wish she hadn’t. “Don’t praise me for being good at killing, August.”

His stomach brushes my knees. “I just wonder if you might have a little magic, too, like Daedalus. No other mortal even comes close to your battle score.”

“Battle scores are just numbers.” The gods of war, Morrigan included, rank their soldiers to encourage healthy competition and improvement among peers.

A grin flickers at the edge of his sinful mouth. “Yeah, well yours is impressive.”

“Would you be worried about my number if you and I met on the battlefield?”

A decisive nod. “Yes.”

I push him backward a step, then sink into the water, swimming a few feet away. “I’d wager you’re still highly esteemed among those in your profession.”

“Songs don’t win wars,” he says.

“They just might spark them, though,” I breathe, looking at the clouds.

He swims closer.

Carina always talked about how beautiful August Aymes’s lips were. How masculine and sensual. Years ago, when we were balancing on the edge of the precipice that is adulthood. If she could see him now, as a man, she’d have a whole new appreciation for the way they form his words and carry his thoughts.

I move into deeper water. He follows.

“According to your brother, once upon a time you were a fan.” Mischief sparkles in his stare. “Why’d you stop listening?”

I lift a shoulder. “I was conscripted. Morrigan sequestered us from the realms to stave off our homesickness, and I couldn’t bring myself to listen to your music after Carina died. I avoided everything that reminded me of her.”

We swim farther into the pool. “When were you conscripted?”

“Four years ago. I was eighteen.”

He hums. “You haven’t heard any of my songs since then?”

I shake my head. “Sorry.”

“Not even the one about you?” he asks offhandedly.

I tilt my head back. “Ha. Ha.”

A splash soaks us both. I wipe the saltwater from my eyes and see Elias pop out of the water, shaking his head like a wet, long-haired dog and sending more into my eyes.

Niall drops a towel near the edge before stepping onto the pool’s bench. He keeps his distance. I can’t tell if he’s wary of my mood or still sulking. Probably both.

“How’s Koda?” August asks him.

“Taking a nap,” he answers brusquely. Definitely sulking.

Elias swims like an eel circling beneath the surface. He’s a blur of dark hair, olive skin, and navy shorts as he moves through and around us.

He pops up behind Niall and sends a wave over his head.

Niall growls and strikes the water, returning Elias’s splash, but the Greek just laughs and dives down again.