Page 195 of The Ascended
A smile tugged at my lips. "How did you know it was me?"
"Please," she scoffed, finally pausing to turn toward me. "You're the only one who would stand there silently instead of announcing yourself like a normal person." She sheathed the blade with a flick of her wrist. "Besides, I could feel you brooding from across the yard."
"I don't brood," I protested half-heartedly.
"Of course not." She rolled her eyes, but there was that tiny crack of concern behind the sarcasm. The way her forehead wrinkled slightly—Marx’s only tell.
"Charming as always."
"It's part of my appeal." She gestured toward a stone bench at the edge of the yard. "Sit. Tell me why you're hiding here instead of following your Warden around like a lovesick puppy."
I felt my face go hot. "I don't?—"
"Save it," she cut me off. "The entire realm knows what happened in your trial. Well, not the details, but enough." She dropped onto the bench beside me, suddenly serious. "How are you, really?"
I stared at my hands, unsure how to answer. "I've been better."
"I can imagine." She nudged my shoulder with hers. "Though if it helps, you’re still here to fight another day."
"I nearly gave in."
"But you didn't," she said firmly. "You pulled back. That counts for something."
We sat in silence for a moment, the wind rustling through the bone trees around us. I only pulled back because Xül interrupted the illusion and warned me. I was alive because of him, not because of me.
"Anything you want to say about it?" she asked finally. "About the illusion. About Xül."
I tensed. "It was just physical. The trial was designed to exploit our weaknesses. Mine happened to be an inconvenient attraction to my mentor."
Marx studied me, her dark eyes piercing. "Just physical?"
"Of course," I snapped, perhaps too quickly. “I have eyes. He’s nice to look at. Nothing more.”
A knowing smile played at the corners of her mouth. "I didn't say it was anything else."
"Good." I looked away, uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation. "Because it's not."
She stayed silent, but I could feel her eyes on me.
I glanced at her, suddenly curious. "Do you want to talk about what you saw?"
A shadow crossed her face. "It’s far less salacious than yours."
"We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to," I said quickly.
"I don’t really want to talk about Finn." She exhaled slowly. "But before that… Well, you only saw the aftermath. Apparently, my deepest desire isn't for power or love or any of that noble shit. It's to watch."
"Watch?"
"Yes. Watch." Her lips twisted in a wounded smile. "Becausemine wasn’t an illusion at all. They were real—two of the contestants that died. We’d gotten on pretty well earlier in the evening, and when they suggested we take it somewhere more private…."
I kept my expression neutral.
"Well," she continued, her voice dropping lower, "they started to burn. Right in front of me. Their skin blackening, peeling away as they screamed. And I couldn't look away. I thought—I was so convinced that I had cursed them somehow." Her hands trembled slightly. "The flames were spreading toward me and my skin was steaming when Kyren found me."
"Kyren." My heart sank.
Marx looked away. "He was the one who realized something was wrong. Pulled me out before the flames could reach me." Sadness filled her eyes.
