“No.” I catch up to him and we start along the incline that will eventually split into two tunnels—one toward the dormitory and the other toward commons. “There’s nothing you can do, and that’s the point.”
“We’re friends. Tell me.” He grimaces. “I’ll keep it to myself.”
“Jack Barlowe is going to be allowed to challenge me today.”
He stops walking, so I do, too. “How do you know that?”
“And that is why I’m asking you to keep it to yourself.” I cringe. “Just…try to trust that I know.”
“The instructors can’t let that happen.” He shakes his head, panic creeping into his eyes.
“They’re going to.” I shrug, forcing a tight smile. “He’s been asking since the first day, so it’s not like we didn’t see this coming. Point is, Jack is going to challenge me today, and when he does, you can’t step in, no matter what.”
His blue eyes widen. “Vi, if we tell Riorson, he can put a stop to it.”
“No.” I reach for his hand and lay mine on top of it. “He can’t.” My stomach twists, but at least I’m not puking like I did when I found out. “There’s only so much Xaden can do to protect me both here and once we’re on the front lines. You and I both know that if he stops this, there will be an uproar in the quadrant after what happened to Amber.”
“And you expect me to stand there and watch whatever happens…happen?” he asks, incredulous.
“Just like you have the last two challenges.” I force another smile. “Don’t worry. I’m going to use everything I have to my advantage.” And everything I have is currently in a vial tucked into the tiny pocket at my waist.
“I don’t like this.” He shakes his head.
“Yeah, well, that makes two of us.”
There’s no flight field today—the dragons have deemed it too cold to fly over the last week, which means we’re all headed to the sparring gym after formation. I don’t bother with breakfast, but I pay close attention to every single thing on Jack’s tray as I walk by, noting what’s there…and what isn’t.
My heart pounds a chaotic, nauseating rhythm by the time all eighty-one of the surviving first-years gather in the gym.
Professor Emetterio calls out the challenges one by one, assigning them to a mat. At least we’ll all fight at once, which means not every rider will be watching.
At least Xaden isn’t here, which means Liam kept his word.
“Mat seventeen, Jack Barlowe from First Wing versus…” His eyebrows rise, and he takes a deep breath. “Violet Sorrengail.”
Thank gods Rhiannon’s already across the floor, ready to challenge a woman from Third Wing, so she doesn’t have to see how the blood drains from Liam’s face. She shouldn’t have to see any of this. Sawyer’s gone, too, over at mat nine.
“No fucking way,” Ridoc mutters, shaking his head.
“Finally!” Jack throws his hands in the air like he’s already won.
“Let’s do this.” I roll my shoulders and head for the mat. Neither Liam nor Ridoc is called to the mat today, so they walk at my sides.
“Tell me I can break the promise,” Liam begs, and the pleading look in his eyes tells me exactly what a shitty position I’ve put him in.
“The third-years are off doing third-year things,” I tell him as my toes touch the mat. “You can’t get him here in time, but I know what it means to you to keep your word. Especially with him. Go ahead.”
He looks from me to Ridoc. “Guard her like you’re me.”
“You mean like I’m six inches taller and built like a bull?” Ridoc gives him a thumbs-up. “Sure. I’ll do my best. In the meantime, you’d better run.”
Liam’s gaze finds mine. “Stay alive.”
“Working on it, and not just for my sake.” I give him a smile. “Thanks for being a great shadow.”
His eyes widen a split second before he sprints out of the gym.
“Barlowe and Sorrengail,” Emetterio calls from the opposite side of the mat. “Weapons?”
Jack bounces like a kid who’s just been given a gift. “Anything she can hold in those puny hands of hers.” The look in his eyes sends a shiver of apprehension down my spine.
I step onto the mat, and Jack does the same, walking forward until we’re at the center, facing each other.
“No wielding,” Emetterio reminds us. “Tap out or knockout earns you a victory.”
Pretty sure everyone gathered around this mat knows that Jack isn’t going for either of those options. If he gets his hands around my neck, I’m dead.
“That whole I-die-Xaden-dies thing is really just a hypothesis, right?” I ask, unsheathing the daggers that are hardest to reach during a fight, the ones in my boots.
“One I’d rather not put to the test,” Tairn growls.
I stand, gripping the handles of my daggers, as Jack faces me with a single knife. “You’re kidding, right? Only one?”
“I only need one.” He grins with sickening excitement.
“Go for the gullet,” Tairn suggests.
“I don’t have the energy to block you out right now, so I’m going to need you to be quiet for a few minutes here.”
