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Chapter 7

A day later, I was yet again squirreled away in the east tower and blindfolded.

Sliding the iron blade between my fingers, I drew in a long, measured breath as I tried not to think about how the god had destroyed my dagger the night before. Luckily, I never practiced with it. I didn’t even want to know how Sir Holland would respond to learning that I’d lost such a weapon.

Or to the news that I’d stabbed a god in the chest with it.

I didn’t think Sir Holland would react all that calmly.

Looking back, I could understand why the god had destroyed the dagger. I had stabbed him. But I was still furious. It was over a century old, and if I had any hope of fulfilling my duty—if I were ever given a chance—I needed a shadowstone blade.

I also tried not to think about what I had seen—what had happened to Andreia. The image of her sitting up and launching herself to her feet like some sort of wild animal had lived in my head, rent-free all night long. I had no idea what could’ve been done to her, but I hoped the god figured it out.

Something beautiful and powerful.

His words still caught me off guard. But in my defense, he had called me a name that meant something beautiful and powerful, even after I’d stabbed him. That seemed even more unexplainable than whatever had happened to the seamstress.

Liessa. I couldn’t believe I asked that instead of a hundred other more important questions. Starting with asking what his name was.

“Now,” Sir Holland ordered.

Spinning, I threw the blade, exhaling at the sound of the smack it made striking the dummy’s chest. This went on for a godsforsaken amount of time until I could no longer not speak about what I had seen the day before.

After throwing the blade, I tugged down the blindfold. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” he replied, starting toward the dummy.

“Have you ever heard of a…?” It took me a moment to figure out how to ask what I wanted without giving too much away. “A dead person coming back to life?”

Sir Holland stopped and turned around. “That…that was not the kind of question I was expecting.”

“I know.” I toyed with the hem of my airy cotton shirt.

He frowned. “What would make you even ask something like that?”

I forced a shrug. “I just heard someone talking about it when I was out. They claimed to have seen someone come back to life with fangs like a god but…different. They had fangs on the upper and lower teeth.”

His brows lifted. “I’ve never heard of anything like that. If whoever said that was speaking the truth, then it sounds like an…abomination.”

“Yeah,” I murmured.

He studied me. “Where did you hear this?”

Before I could come up with a believable lie, a knock sounded on the tower door. Sir Holland retrieved the blade from the dummy. He looked over his shoulder at me as he walked toward the door. I shrugged. “Who is it?” he called, slipping the blade behind his back.

“It’s me,” came a hushed voice. “Ezra. I’m looking for Sera.” There was a pause while Sir Holland rested his forehead against the door. “I know she’s in there. And I know that you know that I know she’s in there.”

A grin tugged at my lips, but it faded quickly. There was only one reason I could think of that would’ve drawn Ezra to the tower to find me. My gaze drifted briefly to the many stab wounds that punctured the dummy’s chest, and I thought of all the harmful things I’d done in the last three years.

Sir Holland shot me a scowl. “You never should’ve told her where you train.” He sliced the blade through the air. “She could’ve been followed here.”

“It wasn’t intentional,” I said, wondering who in the castle didn’t already suspect who I was and could’ve followed her.

“Truly?” Sir Holland demanded.

“Just so you know, I can hear you,” Ezra’s muffled voice came through the door. “And Sera speaks the truth. I simply stalked her through the castle one morning. And since I’m not unobservant, I figured out that this is where she spends a decent part of her days.”

“Like you didn’t know you were being followed,” he muttered.

I lifted a shoulder. Of course, I knew she had been following me, but since Ezra had remained kind towards me after I failed, I really hadn’t attempted to throw her off my trail. And it wasn’t like she didn’t know I trained. Sir Holland was just being dramatic.

“I haven’t been followed,” Ezra announced from the other side of the door. “But I can only imagine that the longer I stand here talking to a door, the more attention I will draw.”

“Let her in, please,” I said. “She would only come here if she had to.”


Tags: Jennifer L. Armentrout Flesh and Fire Fantasy