Page 37 of The Incendiary

How comforting.

I tossed my things onto the top bunk closest to the door and turned back for further instruction. “Center mess hall for the welcome dinner.” Valda was already halfway gone. “One hour.”

As soon as the door latch clicked behind Valda, I reached for Shera. “I did it. I’m in. I even have a bed.” My excitement dulled when I realized they hadn’t given me my knives back, and I had only two more changes of clothing. My pants would need to be mended. I’d used Viridian’s power to heal my wound just enough for it not to get infected, but that didn’t fix the tear in my clothing.

“He’d be proud of you,” Shera replied.

I froze with my hand halfway into my bag. “I’m not doing this for him.”

“He’d be proud because you’re doing this for you.”

Thinking of him took me somewhere warm and safe, where I could rest. I couldn’t let my guard down, not here. Still, Shera was right. Since when were cats so damn insightful?

I made my way toward the shower hall holding a towel and fresh clothing. Upon entering, I was greeted by humid air. The damp floors were made from rough cobblestone. Iron shower heads lined the walls and steam hovered in the heated glow of candle-lit chandeliers. Most stalls were wide open. I shuddered at the thought of baring myself so freely and found a private stall toward the back.

I turned the faucet handle that let in water from the fortress’s aqueduct system and groaned in delight at the hot, rushing water flowing through my dirty hair. The feeling of water on my skin had always been inexplicably, deeply soothing, and I relished in it until I was thoroughly clean. Then, I peeked above the stall door to ensure no one else was here. Over a week had passed since I’d been alone to practice any of the gods’ power in my veins.

I outstretched my right palm and reached for power. The first time I’d gone to the temple in my mind, before healing the little boy in Tovick, I’d been suspended in the air by pure, glimmering onyx, and then dropped into the center of the wheel. Now, I needed only to reach for it and I was there. As if unlocking it once had been enough and since then, it simply was.

As if it had always been there inside me, dormant, and all I’d had to do was ask for the gods to provide.

I focused on restraining the power begging to be set free, letting it trickle rather than rush out of me in one uncontrolled burst. Water droplets beaded on my skin, then connected as if drawn to each other. Once together, they began to rise and spin into a contained, palm-size cyclone.

Loud, raucous laughter from the Barracks courtyard made me jump, and the thread swelled into a deluge, surging upward until it hit the ceiling and doused the room with water.

“Shit!” I hissed at the soaked circle in the wooden ceiling.

At least I didn’t put a hole in the roof.

My hair was still damp when I pushed through the doors of the mess hall. Three long tables stretched the full length of a room with tall ceilings supported by massive wooden beams. Excited voices echoed in palpable anticipation around the sprawling space. I hugged the wall, trying to be inconspicuous.

Elias stood on a wide, raised platform at the far end with Valda to his right. Perched on the step below him was a tall, striking woman with golden hair. She fawned over Elias, who appeared bored by her and other women throughout the hall gazing and giggling up at him.

“The way they admire him, you’d think he was one of the gods,” I said to Shera.

“Does he look like one?”

I refused to answer. Elias opened his mouth to answer the blonde, then saw me and paused.

I lifted my chin and held his stare, stone-faced. Both women saw me and scowled. Valda barked something indecipherable at Elias. He smirked at his captain, his cool gaze warming as he answered her. The way he tolerated Valda speaking to him so sharply made me think they must be close friends.

When Elias gave a firm command to a lieutenant on Valda’s other side, he slammed a wooden rod three times, demanding the room’s attention. Silence descended, and Elias stepped forward.

“Welcome to Commencement,” he proclaimed. “I pray that the Selvaren blessed you all with a safe and pleasant journey. As you know, I’ve ordered all able-bodied people between the ages of eighteen and thirty to take up arms. In the past, you’ve been given a choice between training here or aiding in the efforts at home.” He paused. “That was before Molochai ripped out the queen’s heart and let his Butcher dismember her body.”

The fast-spreading swell of horrified voices overwhelmed any semblance of order. I caged in my fury at his inflammatory lie about Gavin Smyth. Clearly, most of them hadn’t known their queen had died, or they’d been spared the gory details, until now.

Valda released a shrill whistle, and silence descended.

“She was our greatest weapon against Molochai.” Elias stepped forward. “Without the queen and her power, there is no room left for choices. We must find a way to obliterate Molochai and his Butcher. We fight or we die. Every single one of us.”

Guilt weaseled its way into my heart. Was I wasting too much valuable time? Elias was the one forcing them all to be here, and it was Simeon who’d crafted the elaborate web of lies that led to this. I wanted my people to have choices, and yet I knew Molochai’s threat better than most. We needed everyone.

“Training begins tomorrow,” Elias pressed on. “You will each be assessed on three different aptitudes: speed, physical strength—” He scanned the crowd, and his blue-gray eyes stopped on me. “—and cunning.”

I bit my lip to keep from smiling. Gods, he had no idea.

“You will then be split into teams that will compete in multiple tests. That is how I will determine your assignments. The winning team will earn their families a year in the finest suites in the Caves.” Elias’s tone turned dry, “And they’ll earn themselves a slightly better chance of not dying.”