We Who Will Die by Stacia Stark - 34

“ W hat is it?” I ask Tiernon as he leads me back to the imperius’s quarters.

It’s the third time I’ve asked, and he sends me an amused look.

I roll some of the tension from my shoulders. He’s calm. Relaxed. I can attempt to be relaxed too.

“I forgot how bad you were with surprises,” he says. And for once, the memories don’t hurt. I grin at him, and he leads me through the common room.

Neris is sitting on one of the sofas talking quietly to Dolen. They nod at us. Tiernon nods back but keeps moving.

When he opens the door to his quarters, I burst into tears.

“Velle!” Ev shoots a horrified look at Tiernon, who shrugs at him. I can count on one hand the number of times my brothers have seen me cry. Even when Bran first showed up, I didn’t fall apart.

Gerith shoves his brother aside and wraps his arms around me. “We missed you too.”

My hands are shaking as I push his hair away from his head, taking in his sigil. He gives me a proud smile.

Reaching out my other arm for Evren, I drag him close. “You’ve grown.” I sniffle. “Both of you are taller.”

Tiernon’s watching us fondly, a hint of a smile on his lips.

“How?” I ask him.

“Elva was distracted. I got lucky.”

I turn my attention back to my brothers. “Do you want to talk about it?”

They shake their heads, but there’s something in their eyes. This experience has changed them. Hardened them.

“We have to be careful,” Tiernon says. “No one can know they’re here.”

“How did you get them here without anyone seeing?” I ask.

Tiernon winks. “I have my ways.”

I study his face. He’s almost unrecognizable from the stern, rude Primus I met when I first arrived. Now he’s more like the old Tiernon. The one who learned how to laugh and play in the Thorn. The one who was my friend before he was ever my lover.

We talk for hours. Gerith shows me how he can use the wind, his sigil flaring gold, while Evren lectures us about all the things he learned while he was gone. Apparently, Elva shoved books in his hands to keep him occupied while she was teaching Gerith.

“I’ll teach you everything I know just as soon as you wake, Ev,” Gerith says.

Evren grins at him, and my heart squeezes.

My brothers are wary of Tiernon. Evren is more forgiving, but Gerith only talks to him if Tiernon asks him a direct question. If Tiernon notices, he keeps it to himself.

We fall asleep on the sofas in Tiernon’s quarters. When I wake, I have no idea what time it is, but Tiernon is leaning over me.

“You’d better go to training,” he whispers. “I ran interference with Nyrant, but a power struggle between us wouldn’t be good for anyone.”

My teeth sink into my lower lip. Evren is asleep on an armchair, his legs sprawled carelessly over the side, head at an unnatural angle. His neck is going to be stiff when he wakes up. Gerith is curled up on the sofa, the hint of a smile on his face as he murmurs something in his sleep.

My eyes fill.

Tiernon takes my hand, pulling me to my feet. He wraps his arms around me as I bury my head in his chest, tears streaming from my eyes. I feel like I’m leaking, like all the emotions I refused to feel while they were gone have hit me at once.

Safe. They’re safe.

“Shhh.” Tiernon strokes my hair and simply holds me for long moments. When I finally regain control, he tightens his hold briefly, then loosens it as I step away.

“Thank you,” I whisper.

He gives me a faint smile, but something I can’t place flashes across his face. Something that looks almost like … sorrow.

T HANKS TO R ORRIK ’ S little show after the council dinner, Nyrant’s power no longer makes me tremble.

If anything, the power lashing at me—and every other novice in the training hall—speaks to a loss of control.

“Are you listening to me?” Nyrant demands. It’s the most infuriated I’ve ever seen him.

“Yes.”

“You killed two strong, powerful novices, and yet you think you don’t need to come to training? You, who would be the least powerful person in this room if not for Etaina?”

Behind him, Etaina flinches, and fury begins to simmer in my gut.

So that’s what this is about. Nyrant is displeased his pets are dead. “Baldric and Hester tried to kill Maeva,” I say. “They broke the rules.”

Nyrant narrows his eyes. “And yet Maeva is still at the healers. Three novices out of action, and one who doesn’t feel like she needs to train.”

“I apologize.” I keep my voice carefully neutral, but Nyrant’s eyes narrow further.

“Your guardant isn’t here to coddle you,” he hisses. “Instead of sprints, I think we’ll try something else.”

The idea of Leon coddling me would almost be amusing, if not for the hard glint in Nyrant’s eyes.

He gives me a humorless smile and my pulse races. “Line up,” he orders, without taking his eyes off me, and behind him, every novice falls into a tight line.

Counting Maeva, there are only twenty of us left.

“Since you clearly want to spend more time swinging your sword, I’ll oblige,” Nyrant tells me. “You’ve cost your fellow novices two well-trained, powerful members who would have stood with them through any attack on the emperor or his family. I think it’s only fair that you face each of them.”

Briona steps forward, her eyes meeting mine. I don’t know her well—but I’ve heard she’s the reason so many of her fellow gladians survived their group’s third challenge.

Briona’s half-crowned gold sigil glows against her deep, black skin, and she walks toward me with the kind of easy grace that likely translates to fluidity in the arena.

Nyrant points at the mat. “Fight.”

“Wait,” Kaeso calls. “They don’t have practice swords.”

“Unnecessary,” Nyrant says.

Briona gives me a nod and I nod back, my mouth dry.

Nyrant has chosen his timing well—none of the imperius are here and Leon is still fighting for his life. In Nyrant’s mind, I disrespected him. I’m not powerful, and my survival has been mostly grit and luck. If I die here, my death will at least be a useful lesson to the other novices.

Briona dances forward, and I lift my sword to block. She’s fast, and her wide-set shoulders and toned upper body tell me just how strong she is. Stronger than her first strike would lead me to believe.

She strikes out again and I meet it, frowning as the blow barely hits. Briona lunges forward, and I blink as she somehow trips over her own feet, slamming into me.

“You need to at least make this look realistic,” she hisses before darting away.

“What is wrong with you today?” Nyrant snarls.

“I didn’t sleep well,” Briona calls, her eyes cold.

“Get to the back of the line.”

With a nod, she switches places with Brenin. He lunges forward, but it’s an oddly awkward move, and I slam my fist into his gut. He folds in two, sucking in a deep breath, and if I wanted, I could slice my sword through his neck right now.

Nyrant is slowly turning purple with rage, and Brenin turns until his back is facing the imperium.

Then he gives me a tiny, secret smirk. “The Volkers had it coming,” he says quietly. “They were poison.”

He continues to stumble around like a lumbering oaf until Nyrant replaces him with Garet.

“You saved Maeva’s life,” he whispers, lashing out with his fist. He pulls the punch at the last moment, so his knuckles graze my cheek. I let my head snap back, stumbling dramatically, and his next exhale sounds like a chuckle.

By the time Calena replaces Garet, Nyrant has lost the color in his face. His mouth is a thin line, his eyes hard.

“That was a hell of a fight,” Calena says conversationally, clearly not concerned about Nyrant overhearing. “Seeing the emperor’s son on his knees almost made all this worth it.”

“Out,” Nyrant roars, and she gives me a grin, sauntering away.

Kaeso steps forward next. Despite our last interaction, the vampire tamps down his brutal strength, swinging his sword slowly enough that it’s almost as if he’s wearing suppression cuffs. When I fight the other vampires, they do the same.

And so it continues.

If there’s one thing every novice has learned in the arena, it’s how to put on a show. By the end of training, I’m bruised, but only bleeding in a few places, exhausted, but alive after eighteen performances.

Nyrant gives me a look filled with such retribution and disdain, I tense. His power crackles through the air, and my own sigil begins to burn in response.

No. Panic spirals through my body.

Deep breaths. Deep, calming breaths. If Antigrus’s shield appears here, I really am dead.

A muscle twitches in Nyrant’s jaw. And then he turns and walks out of the training hall.

I STOP BY my room, leaving my sword leaning against the wall next to the parma and sword Tiberius gave me. My hands tremble as I splash water on my face, but I manage to pull myself together as I make my way to the healers to check on Leon and Maeva.

Axia beams at me. “Maeva briefly woke a few hours ago. You were training so we didn’t disturb you. She fell asleep again, but this is a very good sign. If you want, you can go sit with her until she wakes again.”

The tight, knotted muscles in my stomach begin to loosen, and I nod, unable to reply. Axia gives me a gentle smile and wanders away, leaving me to slump against the wall until my knees are no longer weak.

I check on Leon first. The healers have changed the bandages around his ribs, and they’re no longer bloodstained. He’s still pale, but his breathing is deep and even.

I sit by Maeva’s bed, studying her face.

“Arvelle?” Maeva’s voice is rough, and her eyes flutter open, blurred with fatigue.

“I’ll get the healer,” I murmur, and she shakes her head, attempting to grab my arm. But Axia is already walking into the room, as if she sensed Maeva waking.

She smiles at Maeva like she’s a particularly clever puppy who has just learned a new trick. “Awake again already. Do you need a pain tonic?”

“No.”

“Yes,” I say, and Maeva shoots me a look.

Axia chuckles. “How about I return in a few minutes?”

Maeva gives her a smile. “Thanks.” She attempts to sit up, and I pick up a pillow from the dresser beside her, shoving it beneath her head.

An awkward silence descends between us as soon as Axia leaves.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“I was mostly awake anyway. Just drifting. Thanks.” Maeva’s eyes meet mine. “You saved my life.”

“You would’ve pulled it together eventually.” It’s a lie, and she gives me a weak grin.

“Right. Just as soon as I’d stopped puking. What exactly happened?”

I take a deep breath. “Hester and Baldric decided to kill you. Because of me.”

“I don’t think you get to take credit for their actions, all things considered. What happened once I … left?”

“I had to fight Rorrik.”

Maeva goes still. “How are you still alive?”

“He decided to play with me instead of killing me. Everyone heard you were drugged, which is against the rules. And … Rorrik wasn’t exactly pleased when he learned that information.”

“His mother,” Maeva murmurs, her eyes sliding closed.

“What do you mean?”

“She was drugged and kidnapped. And he never saw her again.”

“How do you—”

She opens one eye and I almost smile. “Sigilkeeper’s daughter.”

“Thank you. For doing that for me. I don’t know why you would after what I said to you.”

I shrug. “I deserved everything you said. You’re right. You caught me at a bad time, but there’s no excuse for the rest of it.”

“So tell me why.”

I sigh. “I fought in the Sands six years ago with my best friend.”

She nods. “I figured that much out when Baldric called you ‘champion.’”

“One of Kassia’s enemies bribed a few people so she would face Kassia, and all of a sudden, our fight became a death match. I was too slow. And Kas died in front of me.”

Maeva’s face twists in agonized sympathy. I keep speaking, because I’m pretty sure I can only get this out once. “The moment Kas stopped breathing, everything else fell apart too. I’ve been numb, I guess. Numb and cold. For six years, I didn’t mourn. Because mourning might mean I would heal. It might mean I forgot about her. About how much she means … meant to me.” My throat is suddenly so tight it hurts to breathe. “And that would mean I didn’t love her enough. It would mean she’s truly gone, and there’s no bringing her back.”

For once, I let the tears fall.

“Arvelle.” Maeva reaches for my hand. “There is no bringing her back.”

A sob cracks out of me. “I know. I know that. I do.”

“She wouldn’t want this.”

“I know that too.” I suck in a breath. “She’d be so fucking disappointed in me, Maeva.”

“I think she’d be proud.”

I stare at her and she waves one hand. “Look at everything you’ve achieved while being a shell of a person. Imagine what you could do if you let yourself heal.”

I hiccup, wiping at my face. “Gods.” I have an instant headache. “When I saw you in the arena, about to die just like Kassia … it was horrifying. And I felt like such an idiot.”

“That’s because pushing people away doesn’t make it any easier when they die. It just adds a healthy serving of guilt to the trauma.” Maeva sits up taller. “I’m not trying to take her place. I want you to know that.”

I shake my head. “Kas would have loved you. You would have been fast friends.”

“I could use a friend like you . Someone who will put her life on the line for me. I’d do the same for you. So what do you say? Friends?”

I sniff. “Yeah. Friends.”

Maeva gives me the same smile she gave me on the first day we met. Full of life and hope and fun.

My head aches, and I rub at my temple. “When will they let you out of here?”

She sighs. “The healers say the poison ripped through me. I still can’t feel anything from the knee down in my left leg.”

I don’t even know what to say. Maeva attempts another smile, although this time it’s shaky. “You know this is the first time I’ve slept in since I was a child? It’s the first time I wasn’t up at dawn training. Axia said Kaeso and Brenin and the others have visited. And … Neris visited too.”

“Neris?” I gape at her. “Imperium Neris?”

Maeva’s cheeks turn a light pink. “She was there when they dragged me out of the arena. And she helped them bring me to the healers. She was the first person I saw when I regained consciousness.”

I’d wondered where Neris was when the imperius filed into the training hall without her.

Maeva bites her lower lip. “It’s not forbidden,” she says defensively. “I’m a novice now, not a gladian.”

“I know.”

“Then why do you look like you’ve tasted something unpleasant?”

I let out a huge sigh. “If you’re going to be with an imperium, do you have to choose someone so … mean?”

Maeva bursts out laughing. “She’s not mean to me .”

I roll my eyes and she gives me a wicked grin.

Maeva and Neris. Who would’ve thought? Although, if anyone can benefit from Maeva’s sweet personality—other than me —I suppose it’s her.

Maeva reaches for a glass of water on her table and I hand it to her. She takes a sip and gives it back to me.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Yes.”

“Why are you here, Arvelle? You don’t want to be a Praesidium guard. The rest of us have studied and trained for this.” Her tone is curious, blame-free, but I feel my shoulders hunch. Silence is suddenly heavy in the air between us.

Friends tell each other things.

The concept is still foreign to me after all these years of shutting people out, but I take a deep breath, considering the repercussions.

Bran took one look at my life and decided the only people he needed to include in our bond were the emperor and Tiernon. No part of him thought I would have a friendship with anyone else. That means I can tell Maeva everything.

Don’t! a little voice in my head screams. You can’t trust anyone!

I war with my instincts, biting the inside of my cheek until the taste of copper floods my mouth.

“It’s fine,” Maeva says gently, and something like pity gleams in her eyes as she watches me. “You don’t have to tell me. I understand.”

“No,” I croak out. “It’s just … I’m trusting you with my brothers’ lives, Maeva.”

Her eyes widen. “You have brothers?”

“Yes. And they’re the best and brightest things in my life. I would do anything for them. There are no limits. Do you understand?”

She nods, sitting up taller. “You can tell me.”

I lean close, lowering my voice to a whisper. And I tell her everything.

Shock and fear and determination flicker across her face. When I tell her about the sight of Evren suffocating in front of me, my voice cracks. Maeva’s eyes fill with tears. And when I tell her about Bran’s blackmail, sympathy turns to cold rage.

“He’s dead,” she snarls. And this isn’t the woman with the bright smile. It’s the woman who somehow managed to kill Baldric while bleeding internally and hallucinating. “He’s going to pay.”

“He is. But in the meantime …”

Her voice drops so low I can barely hear it. “You have to kill the emperor.”

“Yes. The urges … they’re getting worse. I can’t break the bond, and I can’t kill Bran. Rorrik says he can break the bond but he left last night and …”

“And trusting him would likely be the last mistake you make?”

I nod. “Yes. That. I never asked if you have siblings.”

She gives me a shaky smile. “My parents stopped with me. Since their firstborn was a lowly bronze sigilmarked, they thought it prudent not to risk another one. Or even worse, a voidborn.”

“I’m sorry.”

She shrugs. “I didn’t need siblings. There was a nest of pixies in our garden when I was a child. At first, they stayed away, but I spent so much time playing near the stream that they eventually began to play with me. By the time I was ten, I counted them as my closest friends.” Her eyes turn flat, and my stomach sinks.

“And then the emperor killed them,” I whisper.

She nods. “He eradicated them like they were vermin. I didn’t know until it was too late. I never had a chance to warn them. When I walked down to the bottom of the garden, it was littered with their corpses.”

My head spins. This explains Maeva’s fury when Baldric called her a pixie so many months ago. “I’m so sorry.”

She takes my hand, giving it a squeeze. “You’re not the only one who hates the emperor, Arvelle. You’re just someone who is being forced to act on that hate. And I’m going to help you.” She clears her throat, and I pass her the water again.

Since I’m telling her everything … “You were supposed to get my spot on the imperius.”

She coughs, choking on her sip, and I take the glass from her.

“What?”

“They were going to pick you as their novice. And I manipulated them into picking me.”

She squeezes my hand again. “Because you figured you’d have more chances to kill the emperor if you were on the imperius.”

“Yes.”

“You did what you needed to do for your brothers. I would never blame you for that, Arvelle. But … thanks for telling me. Knowing I would have been chosen … it helps.” She gives me a wicked grin. “Besides, I can still earn a place. All I have to do is be exceptional.”

One of the healers rushes past outside, and Maeva chews on her lower lip. “How’s Leon?”

My eyes fill with tears, and she reaches out to touch my arm. “He’s going to wake up, Arvelle. He’s tough.”

“That’s what everyone says. But … even the healers were horrified.”

“How is it that they haven’t found the murderer yet?”

“The emperor is pretending not to pay attention, but the imperius have been investigating. I found the bodies of those killed.”

“Did you notice anything?”

I tell her about the creepy bright green eyes, and the voice in my head, and she grimaces.

“They’re trapped? Within their corpses?”

“Yes. At first I didn’t tell anyone about the feeling of being watched or the voices because …”

“You thought you might be going insane.”

“Yeah. And then when I did whatever it was that I did …” I shrug. “It was just one more weird thing that I shouldn’t be able to do.”

“I understand.” She shakes her head. “You would think people would know better than to sacrifice to Mortuus. There’s a reason it’s illegal. What’s your next step?”

I sigh. “I’m going to take a look in Leon’s room.”

Maeva winces. “Where he was found?”

“Yes. He’s the only one who survived, Maeva, which means the killer was rushed. Maybe they were sloppy. The imperius have already searched his room, but Neris promised not to let anyone in to clean until I’ve had a chance to look. I know Leon better than anyone.”

Concern flashes in her eyes but she nods. “Be careful.”