Page 39 of The Song of Sunrise (The Prentice Teller #1)

T he corridors are packed with grumpy cadets, stomping their boots, trailing in snow and dirt as they return inside from Battlefield’s latest torture device out on the ravine.

Commander Hogsmith must have a sick joy in coming up with clever new ways to torture—or, as he would say, “comprehensively train”—cadets for all weather conditions.

I’m not sure when climbing the face of a rocky mountain in sleeting snow will come in handy, but I climbed all morning and afternoon regardless, slipping and freezing until my fingers turned purple.

Twice, I lost my grip and fell off the side, only to be caught by the safety rope around my waist.

My palms are still aching and raw from Battlefield as I enter the cafeteria for dinner. Heavy clouds descend low over the castle, only a soft white mist visible from the arched windows curling around the room.

I opt for a bowl of soup and bread and walk carefully toward my friends, gripping my tray and staring at the bobbing carrots and shallots as if my concentration alone will keep the hot liquid from spilling over the edge of the bowl.

“You are as graceful as can be with your throwing stars, Akemi, but walking with a steaming bowl of soup is not your thing,” Leaf teases from the table next to Ramona.

“Like you could do any better.” Ramona swishes a hand at Leaf.

I taste the soup, enjoying the full flavor of the savory, salted stew.

The staff has really outdone themselves this time.

I sip some more, tasting bits of celery and potato.

Delicious . I pick up the crusted bread and rip off a steaming piece.

The flour from the crust coats my fingers. It’s oddly silent. I look up.

Leaf and Ramona are staring at me hungrily.

“What?” I say, dabbing soup from the corner of my mouth on my sleeve.

“ Well? ” Leaf asks, leaning in with an eyebrow raised.

“What do you think? Is it better than the bean soup yesterday?” Ramona asks. She leans in too.

“Hm.” I take another sip. “I’d say so.”

“ HA! ” Ramona yells and points at Leaf.

Leaf groans and reaches into his pocket for a few bronze coins and drops them into Ramona’s extended hand.

“I cannot help that I have superior tastes,” Ramona says. “It can be a burden sometimes…” She trails off, smiling to herself and flipping the coins in the air before pocketing them and grinning like she won the whole damn Summit.

A door slams in the corner, drawing our attention.

Spoons and forks clatter to the table as cadets look toward the source of the noise.

Strolling into the center of the room with full heavy steps is Vega Falling Eagle.

Her long brown hair is tied tightly into a braid and her cheeks are rosy from the chill of outside.

Two Sun’cher gold rings glint on her fingers now balled in a white-knuckled fist.

“Vega, stop!” Castor runs up from behind her, grabbing her elbow and pulling her back.

Another cadet joins them, Pictor, a tall, dark-haired first year who—metaphorically and physically—always appears to look down on everyone around him.

Leaf begins to stand alert, shifting the large mass of his body so that it shields me from the scene. Something doesn’t feel right about this.

I peer around his broad shoulders, trying to get a better look at Vega and Castor.

I hate the way my gut turns at the sight of them.

Leaf had told me that they used to be together before we met.

That Castor suddenly broke it off before the summer, and it didn’t help that he returned to the Watch with a fresh new recruit who he seems to care about enough to ask to the formal Summit Luncheon.

The same new recruit that Vega is charging at: me .

Leaf shifts his large body, blocking my view.

“That Watcher wannabe bard is a distraction!” Vega yells.

My chest tightens. What could I have possibly done?

Vega continues to yell, not caring that the entire cafeteria is listening. “Our team is going to fail because you cannot get your head out of your pants, Castor!”

My cheeks flush at the insinuation. I haven’t been with many men, and certainly not Castor—at least not yet—but why would she be so upset anyway that this is ruining their… team?

I peek around Leaf at them. Castor, Vega, and Pictor. A third-stone, second, and first, with only one thing in common: champions for the Elders. Castor for Elder Hightail, Vega for Elder Davenpath, and Pictor for Elder Bourroughs. The soup I was enjoying suddenly turns heavy in my stomach.

“Leave Akemi out of this! I told you I was going to warn her. She deserves to know.” Castor raises his voice back.

At the sound of my name, heads glance in my direction, eyes like moths on my skin, itching and crawling until I can no longer stand it.

“I got this,” Ramona says so low that only Leaf and I can hear. “Leaf, take her to our room.”

Leaf grabs my arm, dragging me through the cafeteria and corridors like I’m a prisoner. Only when we are right outside my room do I finally manage to break away from his grip.

I round on him. “What was that all about?”

“Vega is someone you don’t want to cross. I was saving you from a storm of trouble.”

“I don’t need saving!” I practically yell as I throw open the door to my room.

“I’m sorry, I’m just—”

“—doing what Ramona says, what Castor says?” My voice sounds cold and harsh. “Why don’t you do something of your own accord for once.”

The room is suddenly too small. I ignore Leaf’s wince. I know he doesn’t deserve my fury right now, but after dragging me to my room with no real clue as to why, I’m fuming.

The door opens and Castor barges through, Romona on his heels.

“Akemi, I’m sorry,” he says, reaching for me.

I step backward. “What is this all about? Why was Vega yelling at me?”

Castor’s expression hardens into his usual mask of indifference. “She was mad because I wanted to tell you about the Summit. What’s happening next.”

Castor knows the next Summit task? I look at Ramona and Leaf for support. Both are inspecting the thread count on the rug. Like they know whatever is going on and weren’t planning on telling me. What. The. Fuck.

“It’s teams .” The words rush out of Castor. “The next Summit task. It’s going to be in our sponsor teams. That’s why I’ve been training with Vega and Pictor.”

“We wanted to tell you sooner, but our sponsors swore us to secrecy!” Ramona justifies. “You’ve been in the infirmary and only out for a little while… we didn’t want to cause you any more stress.”

I want to laugh, cry, and scream into the cracks that are forming in my perfectly melded exterior. My friends were keeping this from me. I try not to let my hurt show on my face.

“Fuck secrecy,” Castor says, pleading for forgiveness, the deal as clear as the blue skies of his irises: I warned him about the first task, and now he tells me about this one.

We are even then.

“What is the task?” I ask, putting aside my hurt to dissect another time.

“It’s going to be a race with challenges along the way, we think. Physical obstacles that are designed to be strenuous. Then you finish with a logic test, a riddle of some sort,” Castor explains.

“We think it’s happening next week,” Leaf says quietly, the usual merriment in his tone absent. If I wasn’t too numb and hurt, a part of me would feel bad for taking out my anger on him earlier. But they were keeping this from me. All three of them!

Ramona, Leaf, Castor… friends don’t keep secrets as big as this.

My heartbeat accelerates to a quick staccato in my chest. I take a few unsteady steps backward. “Gi-gi-give me a minute.”

I run to the hall, slam the door, and press myself against the wall. The cool stone is a relief to my back, a solid foundation for my soul to tether. I tip my head up and close my eyes, keeping the tears from spilling.

Breathe, breathe .

“Akemi,” Castor pleads my name quietly from beside me.

I open my eyes and turn to him. Why does this hurt so much, this secret? How long did they know about this task and not tell me?

“Is it because you want to win the Helios stone? Is that why no one told me? One less champion on the list.” I let out a dry laugh.

“No—” he starts, but I interrupt.

“I thought we were closer than this, Castor.” I close my eyes again, not able to bear the sight of him any longer.

His large hand touches my cheek, wiping away a tear. “We are.”

“Not any longer,” a deep voice grumbles from the shadows. “Do not touch her.”

From the darkness, Atlys emerges like he was formed from the shadows themselves. His boots click lightly on the stone floor, and yet the entire castle seems to reverberate with each step.

Castor moves protectively in front of me.

“Come with me, Akemi. We have training to do.” Atlys’s voice is quiet, but the command in his tone is clear.

“She can go when we are done talking,” Castor says cooly.

“I will go when I want to go.” I walk toward Atlys and look back at Castor. Leaf and Ramona are now standing behind him, looking apologetic. With time, I know I can forgive them, but that doesn’t take away my hurt or that I need space.

“I’ll see you later,” I say, and turn to follow Atlys away from my friends.

“Where are we going?” I ask, following Atlys through a crevasse in the cave under the school.

Eventually, the tunnel transitions from a rough stone to a smooth, almost polished finish.

Bioluminescent vines caress the stone in lazy swirls, lighting our way as we follow the winding path and descend further into the depths of the earth.

Atlys looks over his shoulder, silver eyes reflecting off the flowing vines like a cat. A trait undoubtedly the Underlings have to see in near darkness. “A place where I know we are safe to talk. The Watch has ears everywhere on the Surface, but they do not dare venture this far Below.”