Page 29 of Unbound

Of course they don’t. If one thing has become painfully obvious since our first day, it’s that Raith is far and above the best of all the offerings. He’s feared and respected in equal measure, even by some of the instructors.

"What?" I manage, startled by his proximity. He smells like campfire smoke and something else I can't name, something that makes my pulse quicken, something dangerous and intoxicating all at once.

I see Raith almost every day, but he generally doesn't seem to remember I exist. By all accounts, I’m average in most subjects and far below average in channeling. I can tell most instructors have already assumed I won’t survive Confluence Day and are focusing their efforts on more promising students.

I've even heard students half-jokingly call him The Burned Prince, and I can hardly blame them. Common belief seems to be he’ll be a top ranked primal in Empire's army by the time he graduates. I even overheard a pair of students speculating about how he might tether an older elemental on Confluence Day, which supposedly hasn't happened in decades. Young elementals tether us. Older elementals either have past tethers and scars from the deaths of their humans, or they've chosen not to get involved in the conflicts of men.

"Problem, Saltcrest?”

I flinch, realizing my mind had gone elsewhere as I stared at him.Saltcrest.He does remember me, then. And I still have no idea how or when he found out where I’m from.

Mireen and Ambrose have both taken what I assume are involuntary steps away from Raith. Even with the weapons on display, the other waters are also watching him with mixtures of wariness and awe.

I shake my head, heat creeping up my neck. "Just trying not to imagine somebody skewering me with one of those."

"Be the one doing the skewering, then," Raith says simply.

Easy for him to say. I don't think Raith has even come close to losing a sparring match since he arrived. Even if someone did want to kill him, they'd have no chance. He's untouchable. Hardly even human.

And, for some reason, he's standing in the middle of us waters and talking to me.

He looks at the others, who are watching us openly. "Fuck off," he growls.

Eyes jerk away and people flinch back like he's a lion that just roared.

Except Malakai and his soldiers, I notice. They're watching Raith with calculated stares. Stares that don't make sense, unless they're really so bloodthirsty they'd go after people outside our affinity.

"It's okay," I say to Mireen and Ambrose, who linger, even though they look like they want to scatter with the rest of the students.

At least I hope it's okay. Raith wouldn't kill me right here, would he?

But I see he's studying the weapons, then returning his focus to me. His eyes scan my body, and for a moment, I wonder if he's actually checking me out.

He reaches and gives my arm a squeeze, then frowns, as if not entirely pleased.

"What?" I demand.

"You need to take your training more seriously. You're still… squishy."

"Excuse me?" My jaw drops in indignation.

I know I must be imagining it, but I almost think the corner of his mouth twitches upward at that. "Short." He's still staring at me—assessing me. "Somewhat weak. But fast. Hmm." He strokes his sculpted jaw with big, calloused fingers. "Smart…"

Smart? I'm not sure how he knows enough about me to assume that, but?—

Before I can respond, he moves past me, selecting a thin-bladed sword with a simple crossguard. It's shorter than a full-sized sword but longer than a dagger.

"This." He offers it to me, handle first. "Emphasis on speed and precision. Quick thrusts rather than hacking power. A thrust is faster than a slash. The blade is short enough that you should be able to strike first against anybody with a longer weapon. Against a shorter weapon, you'll use this to keep out of their reach," he says, tapping my temple.

I take it hesitantly, testing its weight. The balance is perfect, the blade an extension of my arm rather than a burden. "Why are you helping me?" I ask, suspicious of anything resembling kindness in this place.

"You intrigue me." He steps closer, making my breath catch and filling my nose with that strange but intoxicating scent of his. "And I don’t think you’re as weak as you let on.”

Before I can press further, he walks away, rejoining the fire offerings on the other side of the arena. They've already selected weapons, and they're training cooperatively, rather than trying to kill one another like the waters and airs do.

It's ironic, in a way. Before coming here, I was told fire and earth primals were all spies for Red Kingdom. Those who weren't spies, they said, just hadn't turned coat yet. They were painted as the animals and the ones to fear.

But here? The fires organize under Raith, and I only know of two who have died since we arrived. Meanwhile, more than thirty waters have died and half as many airs. The earths also have only had one or two deaths, and they've organized themselves under the leadership of a pair of twins named Otho and Vireena. I can see them with their glowing green marks training in the distance.

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