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Page 15 of Between Smoke and Shadow

Water spills harder from the guard’s mask, drenching the front of his uniform. He falls to his knees, flails an arm in submission, and collapses on the mat. Tora drops her hands, letting her pink-singed fingertips hang at her sides. The guard curls into himself, his ragged coughs loud enough to hear over Harrick and Malek’s ongoing battle.

“Yes!” one of the elite men screams when Malek’s creature takes another guard. “That’s a tie. He just needs the last one.”

I shift from my toes to my heels. It shouldn’t matter to me which brother wins, but I want to watch Malek lose. I want to see his face when he realizes he killed in vain. I’m not sure it will matter to him anyway.

The final guard stands between Harrick’s lashing branches and Malek’s growling beast. He staggers between them, masked face turning toward one and then the other. Tora leans against the nearby wall, as if submitting a single guard took everything from her. I can see her heaving chest and flushed cheeks from here.

“Come on, Harrick,” Viana whispers. She clasps her hands, leaning against them as she watches the twins. “Focus, baby. End this.”

She speaks as if she knows Harrick. Maybe they’re already dating, even though it’s against tradition.

Harrick thrusts two vines around the guard, forcing the man’s arms to his sides. Malek’s beast lunges a moment later, but it doesn’t go for the guard. Instead, one of its spindly legs strikes against Tora, knocking her hard against the wall. A hanging sword falls at the impact, the blunt handle cracking against her shoulder. She lets out a high-pitched cry, crumbling to the mat and tucking around herself. The beast surges, as if to attack her, and the viewing room sucks in a collective, horrified breath.

Surely Malek didn’tmeanto hurt Tora…right?

Harrick’s vines instantly disappear from the guard, and seconds later, they’re tight around Malek’s neck. The scarred brother smiles maniacally, even as his face turns red, then purple. He doesn’t fight Harrick’s hold. He only raises his hand, twisting it to command the beast before him.

The creature staggers away from Tora, and just before Malek passes out, it tears into the remaining guard’s throat.

SIX

RUNE

“I can’t believe Harrick lost,” Saskia says less than an hour later. With her arm looped through Viana’s, she exits the waiting room.

“He didn’t lose,” Viana snaps. She scowls at her friend, shoving out of her hold. “Malek cheated. When they release the official results, they’ll take that into consideration. Harrick would have won if he’d broken the rules.”

I want to point out that, technically, Harrick did break the rules. Sure, Malek broke them first and more often, but Harrick still attacked his brother. If they asked me, I’d point out that Tora was the only one whodidn’tcheat. But of course, they don’t.

“You’re right,” Saskia says. When it comes to Viana, this tends to be her response for everything.

I stay two steps behind them, my shoulder brushing with Caleah’s as we walk. The two elite women whisper back and forth, quickly moving from the exhibition results to lighter conversation. Viana talks about what she’ll wear to the upcoming celebration and then describes in great detail what she imagines Harrick will look like naked.

It’s easy for me to ignore them now. After leaving the chaos of the viewing room, my brain is too spent to pay much attention to anything. My shoulders ease as the glass lifts come into view. Saskia and Viana will take them to their respective rooms, and Caleah and I will go down to the elite kitchens to fetch their lunch. And then, finally, she and I will talk about what we’ve just seen.

We’re halfway down the corridor when Viana slams to a halt. I barely stop in time to avoid colliding with Saskia, my wet shoes squelching against the marble.

I look up.

Right now, I don’t care who or what made Viana stop, so long as it’s not me. Even if it’s Caleah. It’s cowardly and pathetic, but I’ve suffered enough torture for one day. For a whole lifetime, it feels.

Viana glares at me.

She’s wearing an ornate green mask with sharp points at either brow, and it’s almost impossible to see her eyes through the center black tulle. Still, I can feel her watching me, assessing me.

“Ugh,” she says finally. She scrunches her nose before whipping toward her friend. “Your servant is fucking revolting. Look at it. People are going to talk, Saskia.”

An unintentional gasp sucks through my lips. I don’t mean to react. But…it? It’s been cycles since I’ve heard that, since someone has implied I’m not even human.

I drop my eyes, praying Viana didn’t notice. It’s too late. She strikes my face so hard I lose my balance. I manage to stay upright, but my shoes slip across the floor, streaking water over the reflective marble.

“Not another sound from you,” she snaps. “You have embarrassed Saskia quite enough. She ought to have you fired,removed from service entirely. Send you out on the streets. See how you like it there.”

My eyes are on the floor again, and I hate it. I hate myself. I press my fingernails into my palms, even as I start to break skin.

“Viana—”

“No, Saskia. If you don’t get control of this thing, it’s going to destroy your reputation. Trust me, it makes them all too giddy to ruin what isn’t theirs.”


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