Page 66 of Trials of Dusk and Dreams
“So give in.” My lips part as he sucks my finger into his mouth. “Why fight it?”
His teeth clamp down. Ouch. I yank my hand back, scowling.
“Because distractions get you killed,” he says.
I roll my eyes. “You seem to remember well today.”
“Perhaps because all I can think about is how you tasted on my fingers and how much better you’ll taste directly from the source.” With a frustrated growl, he strides ahead down the wooded path.
Smirking, I jog after him. He’s already slowing. “That’s not really why your memory seems better, is it?”
He gives me an amused look. “When Styx shifts out his otherness before me in the morning, it helps anchor my memories during the day.”
Geraldine and Max are frowning at a tree trunk covered in crudely carved symbols—moons, stars, and other strange glyphs.
Bodin curses, quickly ushering us past.
“Graffiti,” he mutters. “Coded messages of dissent.”
“What does it mean?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “Nothing good.”
“You can read them?”
“No. But they’re appearing all over, usually before a riot. Probably a call to action.”
“Riots?” I share a concerned look with my friends.
“Keep moving,” Bodin says. “Change is coming, whether the nobility wants it or not.”
Chapter 28
Willow
At the Nexus, the air shimmers with an unnatural stillness. Earlier in the week, grief hung heavy in the air. Today, laughter tinkles like crystal. Fae nobles twirl in dazzling gowns, their faces masks of practiced joy. But beneath the veneer, I catch flashes of strain—a trembling hand here, a too-wide smile there.
As we pass the Registration building, a commotion catches my eye. A cart laden with exquisite delicacies—glistening fruits, aromatic pastries, and meats so tender they seem to melt—is being unloaded. Bejeweled, well-dressed Radiants oversee the delivery.
“More supplies for the ball, I suppose,” Geraldine mutters, her voice tight.
I notice a group of Chaser workers, their glamour flickering to reveal gaunt cheeks and hollow eyes. One reaches for a fallen grape, only to snatch their hand back as a Radiant’s polished gaze sweeps over them.
“Don’t look,” Max warns us under his breath. “Noticing too much can be dangerous here.”
The stark divide between abundance and want knots my stomach. How had I missed this before?
It’s worse when we get to the heart of the Nexus—a new House of Stone Tower gleams, pristine and unmarred. There is zero evidence of rubble. Even the grass bears no scars. It seems impossible, illogical, and absurd that they managed to build a tower in the span of a few days. No one questions it. They just murmur about the incredible power of the Radiants and continue on their way.
“It’s like it never happened,” Geraldine whispers, her voice tight with disbelief.
Max nods, his eyes hard. “Welcome to Avorlorna, where inconvenient truths vanish faster than morning dew.”
The week passes with a surreal air of normalcy if such a thing exists in a tournament designed to train mortals as war fodder. Bodin escorts me to every class. Goodfellow doesn’t show. No one mentions the House of Stone debacle, their deaths, or their Shadow and Sylvanar. No one mentions Fox.
The House of Tides runs the morning Magical Defense and Counter Magic class. Much of what they teach is useless to mortals without charms. The message is clear: trust your Radiants and know your place. It reminds me of what Colin said—young mortals never achieve a better station than recruit. I worry he hasn’t turned up at the House of Shadow.
Max splits off to take a different class than Geraldine and I. Bodin waits until we’re safely inside before leaving to do whatever the Knight Protector usually does. We file into the House of Moonlight Tower classroom for medical training and sit in the second row.
