Page 71 of Spark of Madness

Delle looks at me. “What?”

I shake my head pointedly. “No, she doesn’t. I wasn’t going to say anything, Theo.”

He gives me an appraising look and it nearly feels like acceptance. He nods slowly, and though it looks like he’s going to say something, he just reaches out to pat my shoulder with a tight smile.

“Okay,” he says. “Five minutes, both of you.”

Theo turns to leave, but not before casting a sideways glance at Delle, giving her a much more genuine grin before leaving us alone. The door clicks shut behind him.

“How often does he come to you?” I ask her. “You don’t have to let him in, Delle. He has no right to be alone with you.”

“Not often,” she replies, her eyes fixed to the door behind my back. She blinks and looks at me. “He’s been kind, and I—”

“Delle, you can’t trust any of them. Do you understand me? Not even when they’re kind to you…especiallynot when they’re kind to you.”

“I know.” She nods and casts her gaze to the floor. “I know that.”

“They’re not allowed to touch you outside of service. Don’t let them.”

“No one’s touching me, Mercy.” Irritation shades her tone as she lifts her head to look up at me, crossing her arms. “That’s why I’m here. It’s why I volunteered to participate. I don’t wantanyonetouching me ever again. I’ll take death before I allow it.”

All of them will touch her for the first trial—whether she allows it or not. My blood runs cold at the thought, and a shiver tremors up my spine. Yet I understand what she’s saying—she’s chosen this fate rather than be forced to serve.

“Okay,” I say softly. “I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

She nods a little, though I still see the frustration in her expression—teenage defiance that was once a hallmark for me before months and months of service dulled my affect. I almost want to smile at it, recognizing my former self within her. Perhaps that’s why I care about her so much. Caring for her almost feels like caring for my younger self.

Fighting for her feels like fighting for me.

A few moments pass as she relinquishes slowly, bringing her arms down to her sides. “What was Theo talking about? What you tried to do for me?”

I wave my hand dismissively. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter. It didn’t work, anyway.”

“Mercy, did you...The other day you were asking me about whether I’d let someone take the burden of the trials from me...whether I’d choose differently if I could go back. Did you try to—”

“Don’t worry about it, Delle. Unfortunately for the both of us, nothing has changed.” The reality of my failure strikes me hard in the chest as I speak the words out loud. It threatens to knock me down, and I step back to avoid stumbling over my emotions. “Five minutes,” I remind her. “Whatever it is Warden Rainn has planned for us, it sounds like we’ll be together. It will be okay.”

I smile at her before turning away, and my face drops immediately, our situation sitting heavily on my shoulders.

I tried to save her, and I failed.

I tried to save myself, and I failed.

I fear the outcome of the trials will be no different.

chapter twenty-three

Arlo

I KNOCK ONCEon Mercy’s door as a courtesy before letting myself in. She stands at her window, gazing out at the mountains. The first hint of sunlight I’ve seen all day peeks out from behind the cloud cover, shining through the window and striking her as if she had called upon it herself.

She turns her head over her shoulder to look at me, her shortened hair whipping around her face like sparkling strands of shooting stars. Cutting her hair didn’t lessen the draw of her starlight tresses, it only gave them more freedom to move and draw my attention.

Yet I quickly lose sight of her hair as it falls away, the strands framing her porcelain face, blushed cheeks, and pink lips—but more than that, my gaze is drawn to her gray-blue eyes which are glassy with the sheen of tears, glistening in the sunlight which sweeps across her face.

I should remain in place, let her feel whatever it is she’s feeling without interference. But the messenger bag I packed drops heavily from my shoulder to the floor, and I stride across the room before I can stop myself. She turns her head as she brings her knuckles up to swipe beneath her eyes. I stop at her back, my arms aching to reach out for her, but I clench my fists to keep them at my sides.

“You tried,” I quietly tell her. “It’s more than most would do in your position. There’s something to be said for that.”

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