Page 55 of Shadow Caster
His brows snapped down, and then his frown cleared. “I see your confusion. Allow me to clarify. The hounds in the catacombs aren’t ours. They’re not trained. They’re feral, and they’re fed meager amounts of meat once a month to keep them alive. They’ve procreated and built their home in these catacombs, and their numbers are culled once a year by the cadets in the shadow trial.” He canted his head. “That’s you, by the way. Ten of you and goodness knows how many of them.”
Was that worry skipping across his brutal features?
“If you want to survive the trial, you need to train hard. You need to work as a team. You need to be ready to kill.”
He stared us all down, one by one. With the mist swirling around us and the night pressing in on us, his words were an ominous premonition of impending death.
He smiled. “So, how about we start with a mini test. If you find your way back to the barracks on time, you might get some lunch.”
He turned away and strode off into the mist, leaving us huddled in a group.
“Shit!”
“What the fuck?”
“Which way?”
Exclamations broke out, and this test suddenly made sense. Vince had handed out compasses, and no one, aside from me, had questioned it. Fucking idiots. What would they have done if I wasn’t here? Would Hyde have come back for them?
“Hey!” I held up a hand. “We head south.” I tapped the compass on my wrist. “You guys do know how to read a compass, right?”
Mal threw a filthy look my way. “And why the fuck should we listen to you? You could be trying to get us lost.”
“Not everyone, just you.” I walked up to him. “Because you’re an asshole. And assholes should always be left behind.”
The cadet beside him let out a bark of laughter. “She’s got that right, Mal.”
“Fuck you, Gimble,” Mal said. “No one cares what a bastardized fey thinks.”
Gimble, a skinny, mousy-haired guy with a pronounced Adam’s apple, looked as if he’d been slapped.
Bastardized fey was a slur used to refer to the feybloods who came from lesser blood lines. Lines not directly associated with Winterlock and Bourne, and only assholes used the term anymore.
“And what does that make you?” I narrowed my eyes at Mal. “What is he, Harmon?”
Harmon shrugged a huge shoulder. “Not legacy.”
“Bastardized nightblood,” Thomas said with a smirk.
Mal reddened. “You think you’re special, Justice, cos you got a pussyandthe fucking gene.”
“At least I’m notjusta pussy.”
He advanced toward me. “Let me tell you somethi— ompf.”
My knee connected with his balls, and he went down, clutching the only jewels he’d ever get to hold.
I turned to the rest of the cadets. “I’m fucking hungry. How about we get back and grab some grub?”
I checked my compass and then set off south. Harmon and Thomas fell into step on either side of me. If the rest of them wanted to hang about, then that was up to them, but I needed some O neg and an apple. Stat.
Eighteen
Harmon and I peered in through the round window to the med bay. It was four hours until dawn. Classes were over for the day, and I’d been on my way to see Minnie when I’d bumped into Harmon.
He hadn’t asked me to come with him, but fuck it, he’d looked like he could do with some support, plus he’d stood up for me against Mal at the barracks. I owed him. The lights were dim out in the main med bay area, but they were lit up in Lottie’s private room. She was sitting up in bed, reading a book. She looked … normal.
“She’s doing fine,” Madam Mariana said from behind us. “Physically, of course, but I was unable to find any traces of her memories when I did a sweep of her mind. She’s retained all her skills: reading, writing, and general knowledge is sound. But memories of attachments, childhood, family … They all seem to be gone.”
