Page 3 of A Sea of Secrets
I fell forward and my head hit the ground, scattering my senses. I groaned, lying flat on my belly like a sea slug. I pictured Starfish. She was so beautiful. She wanted me to find the squid, but first, maybe just a quick visit to Dreamland to recoup my energy…
No.I had a job to do. I’d promised Fallon.
Coughs rattled my chest and itched my throat. I could have used a glass of water. I could feel the fight leaving me as my eyes fluttered closed.
Okay. Maybe just five minutes…
Ikeptmyeyesshut and my body still as I let myself fully wake. Whatever had put me to sleep had been strong, but despite that, I had regained some semblance of consciousness sooner than I imagined I was supposed to. Still, it was better to appear asleep until I was fully functional so that I might gain the upper hand if necessary. I was still unsure whether the mist was a device employed by the attacker to mask his escape, or if it had been scheduled to be released regardless with the beginning of the next trial.
With each moment that passed, my muscles grew taut as the memory of all that happened before I was put to sleep returned. Guilt held my chest in its vicious grip, its talons entwined into my ribs like a wicked monster waiting to devour me from the inside out.
If it weren’t for Ace tearing out the chip that inhibited my magic, then Zane and many more would have died from the punch that had been poisoned the night before. I didn’t know when Zane had become someone close to me—someone I cared about—but he had. His eccentric behaviour had gnawed its way in and there was no getting rid of him now.
I’d healed as many of the poisoned Potentials as I could but the punch had worked too quickly. Far too fast for my magic to fight on its own. Eventually, my magic had been exhausted. I hadn’t been able to do anything to stop death creeping towards Fallon’s sister. There had been far too much blood, and I was too tapped out of magic to stop the flow.
I wanted to believe her life was in fate’s hands and that perhaps she still had a chance, yet I knew it was only wishful thinking. Logic didn’t care how much I hoped Fallon wouldn’t have to endure seeing Victoria die in her arms. When I’d left, it was clear Victoria’s passing was imminent. Neither fate nor time had been on her side, and she would have taken her final breath alone with Fallon in the auditorium.
A sharp pain pierced my chest at the thought.
It was strange how even fleeting moments could shift perspectives entirely. If someone had asked me a few months ago if I’d feel anything other than relief over Victoria Auger’s death, or if I’d feel guilt for not being able to heal her, I would have answered a firm no. It would have been a quick reply with no room to waiver; solid as a stone pillar.
Yet here I was, feeling like I failed not only Fallon but Victoria, too.
More names to add to the list of people I had let down.
Anger continued to rise at how close the others and I had been to catching the hooded attacker. He’d slipped through our fingers like the mist that had knocked us unconscious, and allthat time we were chasing him, Fallon was all alone with her dying sister. It was beyond unfair.
Yet, those running the trials didn’t care about my anger or any other feelings or needs. They didn’t care about anyone. The purpose of the Terrulian Trials was to seek out the next monarch. The Overseer and Masters wouldn’t let anything get in the way of finding that one person who could survive every relentlessly horrific thing they threw at us.
The thing was, humans, like all living things, needed time to recover. Physically, obviously, but mentally too. In many cases, the unseen damage was the most crucial to the health and well-being of a person. Without adequate care, it didn’t matter the physical shape; things could go downhill pretty quickly if the mind was unwell.
The Overseer and Masters didn’t prescribe to that logic. They didn’t follow any logical reasoning at all, only the path that caused the most trauma. It was a sure-fire way of crowning a madman of their own making.
This fact had me pissed.
My jaw ached as I gritted my teeth and clenched my fists, the rage inside me now almost at boiling point, eager to lash out.
I was fucking done.
Done with knowledge constantly beyond my reach.
Done with being tortured and abused.
Done with watching those close to me get hurt and not being able to do anything.
Done with waiting.
Done with being the nice guy.
I was fucking done.
In my eagerness for revenge against the hooded attacker, I’d dismissed the presence of the mist. A stupid decision that went against everything I was and believed in. That was what Fallondid to me—she made me irrational. Yet whilst the attacker may have gotten away; an understanding had solidified in me.
Fallon and the guys were what mattered in these trials and at the academy, and if that meant being irrational, then I didn’t want to have another rational thought.
My arms itched now; the exposed skin irritated by the soggy dirt I realised I was lying in. My pants and t-shirt were soaked, the wetness seeping up my sides. Yet I didn’t move. Instead, I stared up at the smoky purple sky and allowed myself to feel the anger coursing through my veins.
I wasn’t sure whether it was night or day, the thick clouds above hid any sign of blue or sunshine. But I knew that time had passed since we’d been unconscious. The air was cold and wet and smelled of ash mixed with something sweet I didn’t recognise. It reminded me of winter… but without snow or rain. Rising onto my elbows, I took note of my surroundings beyond the sky above and instantly regretted the decision. My stomach dropped. It wasn’t the dirt making my skin itch.
