Page 99

His blows were so powerful that Ronan had barely been able to return them, just concentrating on blocking Rhyder.

Eventually he would get tired. Each time Ronan blocked Rhyder’s attack, it was only at the last second that the Prophet was able to escape, only the tiniest sliver of a second between the block and Rhyder caving his head in.

My whole body felt tensed with fear and agony.

I wanted to scream out to only injure him, not kill him, but of course women were not permitted to speak aloud at any time during Testings.

Their Congregation would hardly let the man go who had killed their Prophet and Rhyder had never been gentle in a fight. His only gentleness was all for me.

His knuckles connected with Ronan’s mouth, and suddenly there was a smear of blood across the Prophet’s face.

“Was he very cruel to you?” Bee whispered, and she touched my arm softly. “Don’t worry, it will be over soon now. I would’ve told him not to drag it out but he’s such a cocky bastard.”

I looked at her, astonished. Why, it was me who should be comforting her! Rhyder was going to kill Ronan.

“He was,” I said. Then I sighed. There was something about my childhood habit of honesty that I found hard to shake.

“But he thought he was helping me,” I added. “Rhyder is my twin brother.”

Bee’s eyes got wide, and suddenly her grip on my arm was so tight it was like the bite of a snake.

“Yourbrother?” she hissed. “And do you love him?”

Her frightened eyes darted over at the fight.

“I don’t see why that matters,” I cried in a low voice, trying to pull away.

She gripped my chin with her hand.

“Answer me, Temperance,” she ground out. “Would you be very happy if he died?”

“No,” I whispered, through a parched throat. “I know what he is and I still love him.”

With a low oath, she dropped my arm.

There was a sickening crack from the arena and I looked around, my heart in my throat.

Had Rhyder killed Ronan?

But it was Rhyder who was bent over, clutching his ribs, then staggering sideways.

He recovered quickly.

But something had changed, a subtle, but perceptive shift in the fight.

Suddenly Rhyder wasn’t half a second faster, half a second stronger with each blow.

Ronanwas.

It was Rhyder who was half a second slower, his blows not quite landing suddenly, missing entirely as Ronan moved fast. And this time he hit back.

The mood in the Congregation had changed, too.

Instead of calm respectful patience, the air suddenly tasted different.

They wanted blood.

They knew Rhyder was one of the Congregants sending the avenging angels, and they would have zero mercy.