When his eyes trail to mine, I force myself to look away. Instead of letting his warmth, his strange kindness confuse me, I commit the inferno to memory. Cal is more dangerous than all of them put together. I cannot forget that.
“Evangeline, Andros,” Arven clips, nodding at the pair of them. Andros deflates, almost annoyed at the prospect of fighting—and losing—to Evangeline, but dutifully trudges into the arena. To my surprise, Evangeline doesn’t budge.
“No,” she says boldly, planting her feet.
When Arven whirls to her, his voice rises above his usual whisper and it cuts like a razor. “I beg your pardon, Lady Samos?”
She turns her black eyes on me, and her gaze is sharp as any knife.
“I challenge Mareena Titanos.”
SEVENTEEN
“Absolutely not,” Maven rumbles. “She’s only been training for two weeks, you’ll cut her apart.”
In response, Evangeline just shrugs, letting a lazy smirk rise to her features. Her fingers dance against her leg and I can almost feel them like claws across my skin.
“So what if she does?” Sonya breaks in, and I think I see a gleam of her grandmother in her eye. “The healers are here. There’ll be no harm done. Besides, if she’s going to train with us, she might as well do it properly, right?”
No harm done, I scoff in my head. No harm but my blood exposed for all to see. My heartbeat thumps in my head, quickening with every passing second. Overhead, the lights shine brightly, illuminating the ring; my blood will be hard to hide and they’ll see me for what I am. The Red, the liar, the thief.
“I’d like some more time observing before I get in the ring, if you don’t mind,” I reply, trying my best to sound Silver. Instead, my voice quavers. Evangeline catches it.
“Too scared to fight?” she goads, lazily flicking a hand. One of her knives, a little thing like a tooth of silver, circles her wrist slowly in open threat. “Poor little lightning girl.”
Yes, I want to scream. Yes, I am scared. But Silvers don’t admit things like that. Silvers have their pride, their strength—and nothing else. “When I fight, I intend to win,” I say instead, throwing her words back in her face. “I’m not a fool, Evangeline, and I cannot win yet.”
“Training outside the ring can only get you so far, Mareena,” Sonya purrs, latching onto my lie with glee. “Don’t you agree, Instructor? How can she ever expect to win if she doesn’t try?”
Arven knows there’s something different about me, a reason for my ability and my strength. But what that is, he cannot fathom, and there’s a glint of curiosity in his eye. He wants to see me in the ring as well. And my only allies, Cal and Maven, exchange worried glances, wondering how to proceed across such shaky ground. Didn’t they expect this? Didn’t they think it would come to this?
Or maybe this is what I’ve been headed for all along. An accidental death in Training, another lie for the queen to tell, a fitting death for the girl who doesn’t belong. It’s a trap I willingly stepped into.
The game will be over. And everyone I love will have lost.
“Lady Titanos is the daughter of a dead war hero and you can do nothing but tease her,” Cal growls, throwing daggered glances at the girls. They barely seem to notice, almost laughing at his poor defense. He might be a born fighter, but he’s at a loss when it comes to words.
Sonya is even more incensed, her sly nature taking hold. Whereas Cal is a warrior in the ring, she is a soldier of speech, and twists his words with frightening ease. “A general’s daughter should do well in the ring. If anything, Evangeline should be afraid.”
“She wasn’t raised by a general, don’t be foolish—,” Maven sneers. He’s much better at this sort of thing, but I cannot let him win my battles. Not with these girls.
“I will not fight,” I say again. “Challenge someone else.”
When Evangeline smiles, her teeth white and sharp, my old instincts ring in my head like a bell. I barely have time to drop as her knife burns through the air, cutting through the spot where my neck was seconds before.
“I challenge you,” she snaps, and another blade flies at my face. More rise from her belt, ready to cut me to ribbons.
“Evangeline, stop—,” Maven shouts, and Cal pulls me to my feet, his eyes alive with worry. My blood sings, coursing with adrenaline, my pulse so loud I almost miss his whispered words.
“You’re faster. Keep her on the run. Don’t be afraid.” Another knife blazes by, this time digging into the ground at my feet. “Don’t let her see you bleed.”
Over his shoulder, Evangeline prowls like a predatory cat, a glittering storm of knives in her fist. In that instant, I know nothing and no one will stop her. Not even the princes. And I cannot give her the chance to win. I cannot lose.
A bolt of lightning escapes me, streaking through the air at my command. It hits her in the chest and she staggers back, colliding with the outer wall of the arena. But instead of looking angry, Evangeline regards me with glee.
“This will be quick, little lightning girl,” she snarls, wiping away a trickle of silverblood.
All around, the other students draw back, glancing between the two of us. This could be the last time they see me alive. No, I think again. I cannot lose. My focus intensifies, deepening my sense of power until it’s so strong I hardly notice the walls shifting around us. With a click, Provos re-forms the arena, locking us in together, a Red girl and a smiling Silver monster.
She grins across at me, and razor-thin pieces of metal peel off the floor, shaped to her will. They curl and shudder and scrape into a living nightmare. Her usual blades are gone, tossed aside for a new tactic. The metal things, creatures of her mind, skitter across the floor to stop at her feet. Each one has eight razored legs, sharp and cruel. They quiver as they wait to be released, to cut me apart. Spiders. A horrible crawling sensation prickles my skin, like they’re already upon me.
Sparks come to life in my hands, dancing between my fingers. The lights flicker as the energy in the room bleeds into me like water soaking into a sponge. Power races through me, driven by my own strength—and by need. I will not die here.
On the other side of the wall, Maven smiles, but his face is pale, afraid. Next to him, Cal doesn’t move. A soldier doesn’t blink until the battle is won.
“Who has the advantage?” Instructor Arven asks. “Mareena or Evangeline?”