The soldiers laughed, but Alec’s expression darkened.
“And unless you show the Rol’dan more respect,” Kael said, “you will be reunited with your father’s sword.”
“General Trividar,” Nolan said, cringing inwardly. “Under the law of Adamah, all competitors are protected during the Tournament of Awakening.” He paused, inhaling a slow breath. “Wouldn’t be a good idea to hurt one of them.”
“Nolan, might I have a word with you?” Kael’s voice was tight.
Nolan flinched. Crows, it wasn’t like he hadn’t seen this coming. His stomach twisted as if he’d swallowed a snake. As he bent to get his pack, he caught Alec’s eyes. Alec’s scowl melted into a strange, questioning stare. Nolan forced a smile, but it only made the confusion in Alec’s face deepen.
Nolan followed Kael and the other Rol’dan to the main portion of camp. They made their way past the Rol’dan lodge—a large, two-story building permanently made for the tournament. The six flags of the Shay fluttered in the wind. Three were posted on either side of the entrance, each displaying the symbol and color of the Shay Rol’dan’s six sects.
“I will be with you in a moment,” Kael said to the rest of his men. The soldiers cast knowing smirks from one to another, then nodded and turned toward the lodge.
Soon the duo approached Nolan’s quarters: a larger tent away from the bulk of the crowd. Kael grabbed Nolan’s arm, yanking him toward the tent’s entrance.
“Now, Kael,” he reasoned, “you need to calm—”
Kael flung him inside. He stumbled and fell, tripping over the leg of a chair. His spectacles flew from his face.
The blurred image of Kael rushed him. Nolan crawled away like a crab on a beach. Kael hauled him to his feet, and sudden, blinding pain erupted through Nolan’s cheek. A fist in the gut doubled Nolan over; Kael yanked him straight, twisting his arm upward.
Nolan coughed, and his eyes watered, blinding what little vision he had left. “Kael, can’t we just talk—”
“It’s General Trividar to you!”
Nolan’s vision burst with a flash of light, and he hit the ground. Kael pushed him, his boot shoving Nolan’s face into the dirt.
“You will remember your position, Scribe!” Kael pushed harder. “And I’ll personally run anyone through who attempts to heal you.”
Kael released him and leaned in, close enough for Nolan to see regret flick across his brother’s face. Nolan paused, staring. He was … sorry?
“I expect you at the lodge,” Kael said, his scowl back in place. “You have a lot of work to do.” Kael turned and left Nolan alone.
Nolan closed his eyes, his body trembling. Kael had always been hard on him, even when he was a kid. But since he’d joined the Rol’dan, he’d gotten worse. Much, much worse. These last two years, Nolan didn’t know his brother anymore.
Then he remembered Kael’s brief look of regret. Had Kael been sorry? After weighing the possible hope against his fresh agony, Nolan decided he must’ve imagined Kael’s sympathy after all.
After the ache lessened, he tried to stand. He swept the ground with his hand, searching for his spectacles. He flinched when someone grabbed his arm. Alec stood next to him, glowering.
“What are you doing here?”
Alec hesitated. “I, um … followed you.”
Nolan groped once more for his spectacles until Alec shoved them into his hand. Sliding them on his face, he saw with perfect clarity the chaos of his room. Upturned desk. Emptied bag. Papers and quills strewn.
“You shouldn’t have gotten involved,” Alec said. He studied Nolan, and his expression flickered with guilt. “Maybe you can find a Healer. They’re swarming all over. Like roaches.”
“Great idea,” Nolan said. “Except I’ve been ordered to suffer.”
“Ordered to suffer? Who ordered—” Realization fell over his expression. “The crow-loving piece of filth.”
Nolan smiled, even though it hurt. He wasn’t going to argue with truth.
“You should’ve stayed out of it,” Alec said again, looking a bit too much like his father. “It was my problem, not yours. Why’d you get involved, anyway?”
Because you were being stupid, Nolan thought. Truthfully, he wasn’t sure why he had jumped in. Probably because Kael wouldn’t kill him. Nolan bent to pick up a disheveled stack of books; a stab of pain shot through his side. He moaned.
“I could’ve handled it,” Alec said.
Nolan stopped and stared. “Handled it?”
“Aye. I could’ve handled it, much better than you.”
Nolan opened his mouth then stopped, seeing Alec’s muscled arms. He was probably right. Alec spent his days fighting or pounding metal. Nolan, on the other hand, sat in a dark cave of a room with a quill. Maybe Alec could’ve taken a beating better. He cleared his throat. “It’s done now. Besides, I’m not the one in the tournament tomorrow. You’re going to need to be in one piece.”
Alec snorted. “Ah, yes. The tournament.”
Nolan limped toward his pack, righted his things, and went to the tent opening. He motioned for Alec to follow. “Come on. The sooner we get this over with, the sooner we can get home.”
***
A long, impatient-looking line of people waited near the Rol’dan lodge where Nolan would perform the monumental task of assigning five hundred fifteen-year-olds to groups.
He set his things on a large oak desk. It would be a long night, especially since it hurt to breathe. To make matters stranger, Alec hovered over his shoulder. Nolan wasn’t sure why, though he assumed guilt played a role. Instead of joining the other competitors, Alec stood watch, his arms crossed over his chest like Nolan’s personal guard. Am I so pathetic that I need a guard?
Alec caught Nolan’s eye and nodded, as if his position were completely natural, like it was commonplace for scribes to have escorts protect them from the abuse of passing Rol’dan generals.
Nolan forced back a smile. He’d ignore the odd behavior, for now.
“All right now. Who’s first?” Nolan said.
A redheaded boy came forward.
“Name?” Nolan took the scroll from his outstretched hand.
“Alden Sullivan.”
“Where are you from, Alden?”
“Tydros.”
Nolan dipped the quill and copied his name into one of the four color groups that would begin to take form.
“You join the red group. Your camp is to the far right.” He handed him a red strip of cloth and pointed toward a grouping of tents where a flag flew.
The boy stared. “Red?”
“Aye, red.” Nolan sighed. It had started already. The color segregation made this task much harder than it had to be.
“No,” the boy said, “I can’t be in red. Father told me specifically to be in blue. My grandfather’s brother was an Accuracy archer in his day.” He puffed his chest. “So our family needs to stay in blue.”
Nolan met his eyes, hardening his stare. “Well today, you’ll be red.”
He started to protest, but Nolan ignored him. “Next!”
The boy had no choice but to trudge away. After a solid hour of constant arguing, and the occasional cheer when Nolan got a color “right,” a girl came forward, her hair bouncing around her shoulders in golden curls.
“Name?”
“Taryn Trividar.”
Nolan lowered his quill. “I’m sorry, could you repeat that?”
She smiled. “Taryn Trividar.”
Nolan gawked. No. It couldn’t be. Had she changed that much in two years?
She cocked her head. “Is something wrong, sir?”
“Sir?” Nolan snickered “By Brim, you look like your mother now.”
“You know my mother, sir?”
“Of course. Uncle Camden wouldn’t let us forget how pretty she was. He went on and on about it every single day. And it’s hard to forget Aunt Alana’s cooking.” Nolan sighed and leaned back in his chair, savoring the memories.
&n
bsp; “Nolan? Crows!” She scanned his face, then frowned. “What happened to you? I didn’t even recognize you.”
Nolan coughed into his hand. “Just an accident. I’ll be fine.”
Alec snorted behind him.
“How’s Uncle Camden?” Nolan said, hoping to distract her. “Have you missed me?”
Her concern transformed into a wide grin. “It’s been so calm since you left. I think Papa actually misses the trouble.”
“Cousins?” Alec said, gawking.
Taryn’s lips quirked.
“This is Alec Deverell,” Nolan said. “He’s attending the tournament as well.”
“Pleasure to meet you, Alec.” She extended her hand.
Alec grabbed it and shook it like a sailor. He must have realized his mistake, because he dropped his grip and gave a small, awkward bow.
It was so good to see her. Nolan wanted to talk, to ask how everyone back home was doing. Curiosity even made him wonder how his father had been. Nolan was about to say something, but he noticed the huge line winding around the lodge. The boy behind Taryn shifted his feet impatiently.
Nolan cleared his throat. “I suppose I should get to work.” He motioned toward the line. “Maybe we can talk again later tonight or between challenges?”
“Oh, yes,” Taryn said. “I’d like that very much.”
Nolan handed her a blue strip of cloth. “Take care of yourself, Taryn.”
She scowled as her eyes examined the bruises on his face. “Take care too, Nolan.”
Alec watched her leave, his mouth hanging open. Taryn turned to wave, and Alec averted his gaze.
“Here, Alec,” Nolan said, tossing him a blue cloth. “You can be in the blue group too.”
Alec stared, horrified at the simple strip of fabric. “I uh … It really doesn’t make any difference.”
“Then blue it is.” Nolan then called the next person in line.
***
The torches surrounding the camp had been lit, as well as a large bonfire where most of the competitors gathered. A medley of drums and flutes played, and a bit of jovial dancing began. It was good for them to have some fun. He remembered having a splendid time that first night at his trial; he’d been just as clueless as them. Most of them had gotten over the shock of the color sorting and relaxed into their groups. However, their cheerful mood wouldn’t last long, especially after the tournament started.
Nolan closed the book and stood, aches stabbing his ribcage and stealing his breath. Alec, who had never left him, grabbed Nolan’s arm to help.
“Thanks, but I’m fine.”
Alec ignored him, nabbed Nolan’s pack, and slung it over his shoulder. Nolan thought about telling him to stop treating him like a war casualty. Although, he felt a bit like one, and probably looked the part too. He limped pathetically forward, trying to ignore his throbbing leg.
“So this Taryn … is your cousin?” Alec asked after a few steps.
Ah. So that’s why he’s still here. “Father and Uncle Camden have a fishing business in Galva. Taryn, Kael, and I spent more time on the sea than on dry ground.”
“Kael?”
“Kael is … was my brother.”
“Was? Is your brother …” —he hesitated— “… dead?”
Nolan snorted a laugh and watched Alec’s face for his next reaction. “He’s alive, unfortunately.” He motioned toward the Rol’dan lodge. Kael stood on the porch, laughing with some of the other soldiers.
Alec stopped, his eyes widened. “One of them?”
“The general,” Nolan added, smiling. “You had the pleasure of meeting him today.”
“You’re General Trividar’s brother?” Alec shook his head, his eyes wide. “How’s that possible?”
“If your father hasn’t explained those sorts of things to you by now …”
Alec was confused for a second, and then his brows knit in annoyance. “You know what I mean. He’s such an idiot, and you’re … well, you’re not.”
“I’m not?” Nolan’s mouth, the side not swollen at least, turned up.
Alec’s scowl softened and, he met his eyes. “Not yet.”
Nolan laughed. “Kael and I aren’t so different. At least, we didn’t use to be.” A memory flashed into his mind. Nolan and Kael were supposed to be bringing in the fishing nets, and they ended up tangling each other instead. They laughed until their sides hurt. After their dad found out, their backsides hurt much more. Kael won their games, of course. He was eight years older than Nolan, so he’d always get the upper hand. Nolan touched a knot on his head and frowned. Some things never did change.
Nolan and Alec reached the tent, and Alec handed him his bag.
“Thanks for your help,” Nolan said. “You should get back. You have a big day tomorrow.”
Alec didn’t move. He shifted his feet. Nolan waited, expecting him to speak. But when a few other competitors walked by, Alec stiffened his posture and then briskly walked away.
The protective torches surrounding the camp cast a flickering light on Alec’s retreating form. He made his way to the blue camp, away from the festivities of the others.
Alec was odd, for sure. It was his father’s fault, probably. Why did he push Alec so hard? For some reason, Alec and his father both hated the Rol’dan, and that hatred had reared its ugly head that afternoon. Had a Rol’dan hurt them? Wronged them? Obviously, something had happened. Every time Alec looked at a Rol’dan, his eyes burned.
Today, Alec had started something with Kael that wouldn’t be easily resolved. And from this day forward, Alec would balance on the blade of a different sword. Nolan only hoped Alec didn’t try to push that blade in deeper.
Chapter Six
ALEC DEVERELL STARED AT THE CROWD, his mood growing grumpier. He adjusted the blue armband, the one Nolan had forced on him the night before.
Taking a deep breath, he tried to calm his anger and his nerves. He wasn’t sure why the dumb tournament made him anxious; it wasn’t as if he’d gain a Shay power. Not him. Not a Deverell. He’d just have to get through the thing so he could get home.
He really didn’t know much about what happened at the tournament. However, from his father’s grumbling and extra practice sessions, he guessed it wouldn’t be good. He dragged Alec to the armory every single day and had even increased his training the two weeks before leaving for the trials. Alec touched his side, low on his ribs, where a bandage hid a fresh gash under his shirt. He would take ten more injuries just like it to be away from here.
The trees rustled, casting shadows across an absurd outdoor banquet. Four long tables stretched across the forest’s edge in the gathering area, waiting for the opening feast of the Tournament of Awakening to begin.
A savory aroma wafted over, making Alec’s stomach rumble. Crows, it smells good. The last few weeks, all he’d eaten on the trail was dried meats and stale bread, and breakfast had been slim. He headed to the tables. At least he’d make the best of the situation and eat well.
Cloth runners stretched the length of each table, each a different color: red, blue, green, and yellow. A group with colored bands matching his own sat at the long table adorned in blue.
Alec scanned the bench, trying to decide which spot would be the least annoying—there were far too many idiots around him. It would be hard to choose.
“Over here,” a voice called. “Alec!”
He glanced over a mop of red hair and saw Taryn, Nolan’s cousin, waving him over. He looked over his shoulder to see if she was calling to another boy named Alec. There was no one. Realization fell on him like a sword strike. Crows. She’s talking to me? Warmth rushed to his cheeks. I can’t sit next to her!
“Alec!” she yelled again. She broke into a wide grin when their eyes met.
Too late. He couldn’t pretend he didn’t hear.
He took a deep breath and shifted his shoulders—much like he did before a sparring match with his father. If he could get sliced on a daily basis, he could find the nerve to si
t next to Taryn. She pointed to a space across from her, a blue cloth dangling from her wrist.
“Did you sleep well?” Taryn asked. “I barely slept at all. I’m so nervous.”
Alec swung his legs in and wedged himself in. “Yeah, I suppose.”
Her violet eyes sparkled. He leaned forward. Yes. She had violet eyes. Why hadn’t he noticed last night?
“I’m glad I found you,” she said.
“Why?” He cringed as soon as the word left his mouth.
Taryn giggled and shook her head as if he’d told a joke. “Nolan seems pretty busy. I’m not sure when I’m going to be able to talk with him.”
Nolan leaned against a tree ten paces from a grouping of Rol’dan. The bruising on his face had gotten a lot worse. His right eye was swollen nearly shut and had turned purple.
“He looks even worse today!” Taryn said. “What happened to him? Must’ve been quite an accident.”
She waved enthusiastically. But for all the energy she exerted, Nolan only forced a smile, barely waving in return.
She lowered her arm and bit her lip. “Wonder what’s wrong?”
Alec opened his mouth to answer, then changed his mind. It would probably be best if she didn’t know.
After an awkward silence, they were thankfully interrupted by a group of servants carrying in food. Platter after platter was set in front of them: berries and grapes and some type of large, green fruit and fresh baked rolls and sausages and ham. It all made Alec’s mouth water. He thought about stacking his plate as high as possible until he noticed Taryn watching. Alec stopped with only a few things. He didn’t want her to think he was a greedy slob.
“So where are you from?” Taryn finally asked.
He’d just shoved a bite of ham in his mouth. He chewed quickly and then swallowed. “Alton.”
“Oh! Is that where you met Nolan? Father told me he worked there.”
Alec nodded and took another bite. He’d met Nolan briefly in Alton, but hadn’t much cared for him then.
“I’ve never been to Alton,” Taryn said. “I’ve heard it’s quite big.”
“It keeps Father and me busy.”
The loud drone of the group lessened as people ate.
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