“It means we’re not in the graded scenario,” Rhiannon answers. “We can ask questions.”

“Correct.” Professor Grady moves to Ridoc and does the same. “The purpose of this exercise really is to teach you how to survive capture,” he assures us. “These next couple of days are instructional only.” He reaches for my bonds next, untying the rope with surprising gentleness. “It’s an assessment.”

“So you know which buttons to push when it’s the real thing,” Ridoc says, rubbing his wrists.

“Exactly.” Professor Grady smiles. “Is it going to be fun? Absolutely not. Are we going to show you mercy? Also, no.” He moves on to Rhiannon once my hands are free. “And Vice Commandant Varrish seems to have taken an interest in your squad, no doubt because you have quite the legacy here in Cadet Sorrengail. So unfortunately, it looks like we’ll all be evaluated in how we handle this.”

Two riders walk in with trays of food and pewter mugs, setting them down on the table. There are more than enough biscuits for the four of us and a jar of what looks to be strawberry jam.

“Eat and drink,” Professor Grady says, gesturing to the trays. “You won’t have the opportunity once we enter the scenario. Also”—he flashes a grin— “there’s a patch up for grabs if you manage to escape. Though from what I hear, no squad has managed it in the last decade.”

“It’s as good as ours,” Ridoc responds.

“Confidence.” Professor Grady nods at Ridoc. “I like that in a second-year.” He moves toward the door, then turns. “I’ll let you know when we begin the scenario. Until then, you all need to share a secret. Something no one else outside the four of you could possibly know. And yes, we’re going to try and force it out of you, along with the secret phrases you’ve already been given. Remember the coping mechanisms you’ve been taught in class so far, and this will be over before you know it. Every rider who graduates has sat where you’re sitting and made it through what you’re about to experience. Have faith in yourself. We’re doing this for you, not to you.” He offers a final reassuring smile, then takes his leave, shutting the door behind him.

Rhiannon moves immediately to the door, examining the bars and sealed hatch. “It’s not sound-shielded that I can tell, but if we keep our voices down, we should have a modicum of privacy.” She tries the handle. “And we’re definitely locked in.”

Sawyer parcels out the food onto the four plates we’ve been given.

“It’s all so…civilized,” I note as he slides a plate in front of me.

Rhiannon checks the other door. “And that’s a bathroom, thank gods.”

“I wonder if they take it away during the actual test,” Ridoc muses, slathering jam onto his biscuit with the lone knife we’ve been provided.

“Fuck, I hope not,” Sawyer says, taking the knife from Ridoc. “Anyone else wondering if we’re expecting company?” He nods toward the bed on the end.

“Statistically, five second-years are alive in each squad at this point,” I say, reaching for one of the mugs on the tray. “We lost Nadine.”

Silence falls for a second, then two.

“Well, we’re not losing anyone else. The four of us will make it to graduation,”

Rhiannon says, grabbing a mug for herself, too. She sniffs at it, then sets it down. “Smells like apple juice. All right. We don’t know how much time we have, so let’s go. Pick a secret—any secret—and share with the group.” The knife and jam go to her next. “I’ll start. Last year while we were at Montserrat, Violet and I snuck out so I could see my family.”

“You what?” Sawyer’s brows rise.

Ridoc swallows his bite. “Badass. Didn’t know you had it in you to break the rules, Violet.”

“Oh, Violet’s full of secrets, aren’t you?” Rhiannon shoots a look my way and hands me the knife.

“Really?” I dish out the jam a little too aggressively.

“Whoa.” Ridoc glances between us. “Am I picking up on some tension?”

“No,” Rhi and I simultaneously answer, then look at each other. Both our shoulders sag, and she sighs, looking away. I guess that’s where our line is drawn. This thing we’re going through is just between us. “We’re fine,” she says.

Somehow that makes me feel a little better, but not much.

I bite into the biscuit and chew thoroughly just in case whatever they put us through makes me puke it up later. I need a secret I can share that won’t get any of them killed.

“I didn’t tell my parents I had to repeat,” Sawyer says, his gaze locked on his plate. “They didn’t even question my first letter this year. They assumed that Riders Quadrant cadets couldn’t write for the first two years, and I let them believe it. I just didn’t want them to be embarrassed of me.”

“You’re not an embarrassment,” I say softly, reaching for my mug. “And I’m sure they’re just glad you’re alive. So many of us aren’t.”

“Agreed.” Ridoc nods, his hands wrapped around his mug. “I’m terrified of snakes.”

“That’s a shitty secret,” Sawyer counters, his mouth lifting into a smile.

“Surprise me with one, and you’ll see just how shitty. Besides, you didn’t know it, so I think it qualifies.” Ridoc shrugs. “We’re not supposed to have a weakness in the quadrant, right? That’s my weakness. I scream like a toddler every time I see one.”

Everyone looks my way. Here we go. “I’m in love with Xaden Riorson.” Mira. Them. I seem to be able to say the words to anyone who isn’t Xaden.

“Hate to break it to you, but that’s not a secret,” Ridoc says, shaking his head. “Yes, it is,” I argue, my grip tightening on the mug.

“No,” Sawyer chimes in. “It’s really not.”

“Hasn’t been for a while,” Rhi adds, giving me the first real smile I’ve seen from her in weeks. “You’re going to have to do better than that.”

They’re supposed to be my center, my backbone, my safe place. That’s why squadmates are forbidden from killing each other. Venin. Wyvern. The daggers. The wards. Andarna. Brennan. Aretia. I have too many secrets to count, and none of them are safer for it—they’re just blissfully ignorant.

“Can’t my secret be the same as Rhiannon’s?” I ask.

“No,” they all answer.

One thing. There has to be one thing I can tell them that might help prepare them for what’s coming. “Our infantry is killing Poromish civilians at the border.”

“What?” Sawyer leans in, his freckles standing out as the blood drains from his face.

“There’s no way,” Ridoc argues.

Rhiannon stares silently at me.

“Happened while I was at Samara.” I look them each in the eye. “Whether or not we’re getting updated at Battle Brief, it’s happening. Good enough secret?”

They all nod, and I look away when I catch Rhiannon studying me.

“Good,” I say, lifting my mug. The others do the same. I breathe in, tilting the mug to drink— “Stop!” I hiss. “Don’t drink it.” I set it down like the poison it is.

“What the hell?” Ridoc asks, putting his mug on the table.

“It smells like the water they gave us before the land navigation course,” I whisper.

Rhi and Sawyer set theirs down, too.

“They’re trying to disconnect us from our dragons,” Sawyer notes.

“Or dull our signets,” Rhiannon adds. “Did anyone drink?”