Page 71 of Feathers of Ash and Hope
I scan the titles in his hand. They are all about the Ice Coast again. So he’s still researching the Tracers. I want to ask him about it, want to know why he had a pair of them with him the last time I met him here, but I don’t. I want him to stay, so I go back to my story and smile to myself when I hear him rustling through his books next to me.
We stay like that, both reading in comfortable silence.
I only realize the warmth once I step out of the little nook, the cool air pebbling my skin.
I look back at Tate, but he doesn’t look up. I spot a slight glimmer in the air around the armchairs.
He must have a gift for air.
Knowing he shared his warmth with me ignites a glow inside me.
The same repeats the following evening. We spend it in comfortable silence. Not exchanging a word, just smiling and nodding at each other as a way of greeting. No questions asked even though I see his curious looks, and I’m sure he notices mine. It’s like both of us know the other might bolt if pushed.
The evening after that, I find a blanket on the armchair I normally use, which makes it cozy even though Tate doesn’t show up.
Guilt coils in my gut at his thoughtfulness, knowing I won’t be here tomorrow because I’ll meet Sloan despite everything Tate did to keep me out of trouble.
Not going just isn’t an option. If my letters stop coming, at least one of my brothers will come down to check on me, and I can’t have that.
Chapter
Twenty
TATE
Since she’s goingto be around me all the time now, I gave up on avoiding Ara. I enjoyed her company in the library so much that I deliberately stayed away yesterday. I want to ask questions she’s not ready to answer.
My gaze wanders over to her, where she’s currently training with Zaza. She’s good with a sword and has no problem holding her own against the woman who has at least five years on her. I wonder who trained her because her form is excellent.
It’s six weeks since the recruits started, and while we are still deep in winter, today feels more like spring. It’s much warmer here in the south than what I’m used to from home, not that I’m complaining. The windows toward the atrium are open, letting in a fresh breeze, but the sparring hall is still too warm.
We have been training for over an hour, and all the men of our flight have lost their shirts by now. Even the women stripped down to their undershirts.
Only Summer is still fully dressed. And I’m wondering if I’m the only one noticing.
Today is a holiday, and unless we have guard duty, we are free, but that is no reason to slack off on training.
“I will drag you out to a bar tonight.” Jared grins and jumps back to avoid the grab I make for him. “No need to get violent.”
I chuckle, shaking my head. “Should have figured you’d fill my free evening for me. How come I don’t get a say in this?”
“Because I want a beer with my best friend. How’s that for a reason?” I hear other voices as another flight enters the sparring hall that, up until now, we had to ourselves. I keep my focus on Jared, not paying them any mind.
“I’ll tell you what,” Jared continues. “The best out of three, and whoever wins gets to decide about tonight. I’ll even hang out in the library with you if that is your idea of fun these days,” he teases, and I agree.
I win the first round, and we are well into the second when I hear a snide voice next to us.
“Maybe we should take our training outside,” a female says. “I’m not in the mood to rub elbows with scum and murderers.” My eyebrows jump up, Jared bristles, and we both turn to see who said that. “What do you expect when they let someone like him lead a division?” a tall, blond girl states, seemingly uncaring that she has everyone’s attention now.
Rumors and hostility started when I was a runner, and someone spotted the mark over my heart. A few busted lips and broken bones cured people attacking me openly and earned me a certain reputation, but there isn’t much I can do about the rumors without revealing my past, so they stick around… but murderer, that is a new one.
“And if manners and common sense could be bought, some people would actually be pleasant to be around.” I know that voice. Summer’s comment makes our whole flight crack up.
Is she picking a fight to defend me?
She and Zaza continue sparring like nothing happened, Zaza chuckling, and Ara grinning. Completely unaware of or ignoring the glares of the small group of people standing close to our mat.
I recognize the tall one now, Vaccari, the one Ara never gets along with, whatever the reason.
