Page 7

Seven

G rimot walked into the magic classroom as Kamine was bent over, stretching. Her hands touched the ground easily from the looks of it, her palms flat on the surface. She didn’t seem to hear him come in.

It was strange to be in this classroom again, now as a professor. He loved being a student, and showing off skills to the others. He and Kestra would also fuck in here often, the large empty room providing a pleasant echo chamber for their moans. It was a room that had boosted his ego those years ago, but now it just looked sad and lonely. Even the glittering chandelier that hung high up in the vaulted ceiling—a hazard if he were honest, but a thought he kept to himself—couldn’t elevate his perception of the room again.

He cleared his throat, and Kamine whipped up from her position. Her glasses slipped down her nose, and she adjusted them as her face turned a slight tinge of red, likely more out of the sudden redistribution of her blood flow than embarrassment.

“Stand over there,” he commanded, pointing to the center of the room.

“Good morning to you, too,” she mumbled, but did as she was told.

Her curly hair was pulled back, but wisps of it sprung out, and he could practically see the nerves on her face. The way she bit her bottom lip and furrowed her brows. The way she kept fidgeting with whatever was hidden on her wrist, or her glasses, as if she prepared for them to fly off her face any moment.

He came towards her with a rock in his hand. She tensed, and he almost felt guilty for making her so scared of him—for having her think that his presence meant harm. Then, he remembered that the Undertaking was a brutal bitch, and that boulders raining from the sky would be destroying her village without any care for her feelings.

Plus, his life, too, was on the line. Being a jerk was warranted, in his opinion.

He stood a few feet away from her, close enough to touch her if he outstretched his arms, but he kept his hands to himself. Her eyes were on the rock. Either she was trying to will it to move, or she was avoiding eye contact with him.

He bent down and placed the rock in front of her feet.

“First lesson,” he said. “Instead of stopping a rock in midair, I want you to lift the rock into your hands.” Satisfied with himself, he took a seat at the far end of the room and picked up the book he brought with him.

“That’s it?” she asked in disbelief. “No words of advice?”

He ignored her. The more time they spoke, the less time she spent practicing. Also, he found that he liked riling her up.

She cracked her neck, the loud pops traveling to his ears.

He didn’t watch her, but the shadows on the wall revealed that she moved her hands. It was like she hoped to create a gust of wind strong enough to lift the rock. She made circles over, and over again, but nothing happened. Of course it didn’t. Shortly after, he could hear her pacing, like she was staring down a frightened animal.

Her frustration grew as she swore under her breath, her mouth absolutely filthy. He hated that he liked how it sounded. The words were enunciated, the exasperation at herself echoing off each wall, each reverberation a sound of defeat. He could tell this wasn't her first time attempting to bring her powers out, and failing. She was well versed in disappointment.

He still wouldn’t give her the relief of stepping in. Not yet. She needed to be reminded of exactly what she thought would work, so she knew exactly what she did wrong. At this moment in time, she was a failure—one who still had to prove herself. But if she could fix this, then maybe he, too, wouldn’t be a failure in the eyes of the Gods anymore, and he could come out of this with his limbs still made of flesh and bone.

Kamine curled the metal bar towards her chest. The weight of it burned her arms, but at least she felt something, at least her body could do something .

Her head, on the other hand, pounded. Her lesson with Professor Grimot was a disaster. He didn’t provide any words of advice, and she refused to beg him for any. She wouldn’t let him see her as more of a weakling than he likely already did.

Kamine followed her usual routine for trying to make her magic obey. Every time she tried to use her powers, she would move her arms, say words, and strain her mind. She even twitched her neck like Franciz had done during class. But none of it worked.

Roz grunted. Her pink hair was tightly coiled into a large mass on top of her head, not a single strand of hair out of place. “Are you trying to get private weight lifting lessons, too?” Roz asked, as she gritted her teeth. She lifted a large rock above her head, held it, and dropped it. Being in a large mountain, one could barely feel the impact of it.

“Pardon?”

Roz wiped her nose, her face flushed. “I just noticed that you barely carry anything of substantial weight. I was just wondering if that was on purpose. Are you trying to get more alone time with the professors?”

Kamine frowned. “Of course not. I just have weak arms.”

Roz grumbled, “Of course, that’s it.”

Janina and Zoya were both in a corner spotting each other as they took turns lifting the weights. Kamine could hear that they stopped and watched her now, ready to jump in as needed.

“I’m confused why you care so much,” Kamine said, careful to not be too loud so that the rest of the cohort couldn’t hear their conversation. Professor Sandomir was preoccupied with another student, fixing their form. “I would think you’d be glad I’m so bad at this. It’s one less person to compete against for the Heart.”

Because to all them, that’s what mattered. Even if Kamine were strong and powerful, she still would have different priorities. Her father’s and brother’s lives being the most important ones.

“I would just think that the offspring of an Undertaking winner would be preparing their whole life for this, that they’d be the best. It seems like you never cared to bother, even though it would be obvious to anyone that you’d be voted as your village’s participant when you came of age.”

Roz’s patronizing tone wouldn’t give her what she desired: a fight.

Kamine shrugged. She was rolling the metal bar with her feet, the movement methodical. The exact thing she needed to keep calm. “Who's to say I don’t have other methods of protecting my village?”

“We all know nothing else will work besides using your powers to stop the boulders from falling down. Other methods have only led to more deaths.”

Roz was right. There were accounts of participants hiding villagers in shelters made of rock. Unfortunately, a large boulder always seemed to fall on it. The structure crumbled and all under it had died, because the Gods considered it cheating.

“Yet you’ll likely be running straight for the Heart instead of helping your own village,” Kamine shot back.

As the years went on and the Undertaking had become more of a competition than a test one worked to pass, participants had been more likely to ignore the plight of their villages. Kamine had been witness to it. A few years ago—thankfully, before Damien was born—their village's participant was nowhere to be found during the Undertaking. As bystanders, villagers couldn’t use their powers to save themselves. Granted, they had limited powers left at that point as the court was practically depleted of it, so the only way not to die was to dodge the oncoming storm of rocks. It was scary as fuck, and even scarier when you had a mother who showed no emotions as the storm of rocks raged, a mother who would try to escape the house to be outside in the storm. Kamine’s father had to carry her back inside to keep her safe.

Professor Sandomir approached them both.

“This isn’t a gossip session. Get to lifting,” he said, then started yelling at a group who were seconds away from seriously hurting themselves by showing off.

Kamine bent down and picked up the metal bar again. Her hand was cramping from all the lifting, but she wouldn’t allow herself to complain.

“I would never leave my village to fend for itself,” Roz whispered to Kamine as she laid back on a bench. “I want my family and neighbors alive more than anything. More than the Heart, even.” Then, her sad face became neutral again. “I just think I have the ability to do both, because I’m that good.” Roz grabbed the bar above her head, adjusting her grip. “Now, spot me, weakling. I know you’re stronger than you let on.”

Kamine couldn’t help it, a smile crossed her face.