Page 45 of Unbound

"You look like shit," Mireen observes helpfully as we trudge down to Mirror Lake in the predawn chill. Over my shoulder, I see Confluence Academy's four elemental towers punching through a cloud of mist.

My heart sinks like a stone in deep water. Part of me wonders if this will be my last time seeing the academy—if I'll die out here in these murky depths.

We walk with the other water offerings in our best attempt at "swimwear." Since they don't provide us with anything except uniforms and underwear, most of us have simply stripped down to nearly nothing. Some of the guys have just removed their tops and wear the long white slacks we’re given for bottoms.

Weeks of hard training and being fed well is already shaping us into something new. Muscles ripple where they didn't before and stores of fat have melted away, long since burned for energy or survival.

"I look like shit? Thanks," I mutter, stifling another yawn. After Raith's warning, sleep had been impossible. I'd spent half the night trying to decode more of the unbound book, searching for anything that might help me survive whatever waited in the lake. I'd even foolishly crept out of the room and looked for him at the wall, but I haven't seen him again since that first night. When I finally did lie down to sleep, the nightmares came more vividly than ever before.

Worse, when Ididfinally drift to sleep, Mireen’s “pets” managed to wake me several times. Her single rat has either multiplied or told friends about easy access to food. Our room is now shared by several chittering, scurrying little rats who sometimes climb my bed to sniff my face in my sleep.

Mireen calls it cute. I call it difficult to sleep through.

The eastern sky is just beginning to lighten as we reach the lakeshore, where Primal Sestra waits with several other instructors and groups of older students in black uniforms, either trimmed in aspirant silver or the silver and gold marking them as legacies. Behind them, the lake stretches like black glass, mist curling across its surface in ghostly patterns.

The remaining first-year water offerings gather in nervous clusters, their breath fogging in the cold air. Malakai and his people cluster together, eyes hard and violent as they look at us. Shirtless, I can see just how terrifyingly racked with muscle and power his body is. He looks like he could punch a hole straight through stone, and I know he’s no slouch when it comes to channeling, either.

A ball of worry and anger forms in my chest at his attention. Half of me wants to lift my middle finger and the other half wants to shrink away in fear.

"Waters," Sestra's voice carries across the shore without effort. "Today you face the element that calls to you. Those who pass will continue their journey toward Confluence Day. Those who fail..." She leaves the sentence unfinished, but we all know what failure means here.

"The trial is simple," she continues. "I have placed elemental echoes at varying depths throughout the lake. Each of you must retrieve at least one echo to pass. There are enough echoes for all of you, but some will be harder to find than others."

She gestures, and an aide brings forward a shallow bowl filled with what looks like clear marbles. "These are minor water echoes—impressions left by water elementals. Finding one will require you to sense its resonance with your own affinity. Channeling will be necessary both to locate them and to survive the depths."

At this, my stomach drops like I've swallowed a handful of stones.

Channel to survive the depths. Channel to find the echoes.

Of course.

Am I going to have any chance of this when I'm not a real water affinity?

Maybe. Being submerged in water will give me a unique advantage here. I’ll be surrounded by a nearly unlimited supply of water essence. For once, I might actually be positioned to excel at something.

"Instructors and third-years will take you to various locations around the lake. On their signal, you will enter the waters and begin the trial. You will have until sunset."

"Please tell me that brilliant brain of yours has a plan," Mireen whispers, her teeth chattering as she eyes the black water.

I stare at the mist curling off the lake's surface. "Get in, grab the first echo I find, get out before anything eats me."

She bumps her shoulder against mine. "Simple. Elegant. Probably won't work. See you on the other side anyway."

We're separated and led to various points around the lake. I'm not happy to see a third-year with a dangerous glint in her eye is the one leading me. I'm reminded of Raith's warning. Malakai has friends in the upper years. Friends who told him where certain people will be entering the lake. For all I know, he’ll be making a line directly for me as soon as the trial begins.

But I can't hide forever.

Staying scared is only going to mean staying weak. And I'm fucking tired of being scared.

So if he wants to come hunting for me during the trial? Let him.

Let Malakai think he's going to ambush me. Let him think he'll have the advantage if he finds me.

My body feels electric with newfound resolve. Davrin couldn’t handle me two days ago during challenge matches. Let’s see Malakai do better.

They're brave thoughts from a shivering, half-naked girl pretending to be a water affinity—a girl whose knowledge about her affinity is coming a few paragraphs a night from an old book.

"Go," the third-year says from behind me. I don't miss the half smile she wears. Why the hells does a third-year want to help first-year waters kill one another?

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