Page 40 of The Song of Sunrise (The Prentice Teller #1)

It dawns on me that perhaps my decision to go with Atlys was hasty. He is my sponsor, but he is also my enemy. An enemy that is leading me farther and farther away from the Surface. I curse myself for not paying attention to the turns we took. “Are you taking me to the Underworld?”

Atlys chuckles, as if sharing a secret joke with himself. “No. I will take you to my home another time.” He turns and looks at me with a predatory glint in his eye.

I almost choke. “Now that’s a very assertive statement.”

“Is it an assertion or is it an assumption?” He looks back at me again through locks of white hair, sharp canine poking his bottom lip as the corner of his mouth pulls up. “This is just another spot where we can meet and train together.”

Is the Soul Eater smirking ?

The luminescent foliage surrounding us reminds me of the glowing water lily left next to my bed in the infirmary.

Likely a gesture, not because he cares about me.

No, he is a ruthless killer trained in the bowels of earth.

He likely cares for no one but himself and the people of Terraguard.

In no way would he do that out of his own black-blooded heart.

He only left the flower because he needs a champion that is well enough to compete and win.

But therein lies my predicament. I need to win the Summit, but winning means the Lord of Terraguard wins as well.

I won’t let myself fall into his tricks or let one charming smile deter me from the fact that while our people are technically allies, we are nothing but.

I follow him into a large cavern and gasp.

It is beautiful. The walls curve to a point at the top.

Large crystals and stalactites that hang from a mile above, refracting light, paint the chamber in pastel rainbows.

I gape, trying to take it all in, when I notice movement out of the corner of my vision.

A brown animal the size of a small bear is running straight for us.

“Watch out!” Instinctively, I reach for my staff, only to flail at nothing. Shit, I left it in my room.

“Nightmare!” Atlys says with affection, bending down and offering a hand. “What is it?”

The creature draws nearer, and I realize it’s not a bear, but something far stranger—a hybrid of bear, groundhog, and dog.

Its short, matted brown fur bristles as it moves, and its large round eyes gleam a vibrant teal, locking onto Atlys with an almost urgent intensity.

The creature’s nose, soft and damp, taps gently against his outstretched palm, where a pulse of teal light flickers to life.

Atlys’s brow furrows as he watches his hand glow, revealing a brief, cryptic message that flickers in the light.

The creature looks up at him, eyes gleaming with understanding as though waiting for him to read the message.

Atlys nods slowly, comprehension settling in.

He scratches between its ears, his fingers brushing its surprisingly warm fur.

“Tell the legions to double down. Do not move their station. Keep the passage locked. Fly code red,” he murmurs, speaking to the creature as if it understands every word.

The creature bounds away, running straight toward the stone wall, not slowing so much that I begin to worry about how it will be able to stop in time before hitting the wall until it just… passes straight through the solid barrier .

“Apologies for the disruption. Unfortunately the world continues to spin, even deep Below in the Terraguard Court.”

“Hard to imagine their world still spinning without you there, right?”

Atlys looks at me for a moment, eyebrow raised, before roaring with laughter. It is a tantalizing sound, low and raspy, drawing me in as any well-spun melody. I instinctively lean into the sound, unable to help the way my body reacts to his laugh, his music.

After a minute, his silver eyes snap to mine.

“I like you best when you let your flame burn, my Sunrise.” He gestures for me to walk forward. “But let’s not let the politics of the deep corrupt our time together.”

“What was that creature?”

“A messenger of sorts. Earthwalking is a rare trait for my people, but tarthills are naturals. They are born with the ability to walk through the earth, making them exceptional for sending messages. Stubborn little things, but extremely loyal. Sharp teeth too. That one is named Nightmare, my personal tarthill.”

“He looks like anything but a Nightmare,” I say honestly, remembering the cute, furry creature. “ Daydream might have been a better name.”

For the second time, Atlys laughs, completely unguarded.

Despite myself, I feel my lips curling upward at the lilting sound of his timbre. I turn away before he can see the effect he has on me and look around the cave, noticing a flat, circular section in the middle outlined in smooth white stones. “What is this place?”

“Welcome to our latest little secret spot. This is where you will stay for the next couple of days. It’s less exciting than the springs, but I can fix that.

” He steps into the circle of rocks and holds out a broad, tattooed arm.

Out of nowhere, my staff appears in his palm.

He tosses it to me. I catch it and rotate it and step over the small ledge of smooth white rocks until I’m in the circle as well.

I crouch into a fighting stance, feet staggered, knees bent.

Above us, the huge crystals begin to glow dimly from within.

He doesn’t need to instruct for me to understand what will happen next. I twirl my staff in a series of poses, warming up my muscles before we begin training.

“It’s going to be a long couple of nights for you. As your friends already pointed out, the second task is next week. Ready yourself, my Sunrise.”

Atlys pulls his black tunic over his head with one hand, exposing the divots of hard ab muscles. He throws the tunic to the side and holds his hand out expectantly once more. A lethal black and silver staff appears in his hand. He spins it once to adjust his grip then charges at me.

The excitement of the sudden fight floods my veins with energy and light.

I turn to deflect his first blow, ducking and preparing for an upward attack, but he is already there, pushing aside my staff like it is a stalk of wheat.

In a series of three attacks, I’m retreating again, shuffling backward until my heel skims the edge of the circle.

Not willing to be defeated just yet, I change the course of the fight with something counterintuitive.

I take a step toward him and throw my staff into the air in an arc.

I fake left, then roll quickly to my right, using his leg to correct my path until I’m standing behind him, catching my staff and jabbing it into the center of his shoulder blades, right in the spot where I remember his wings appeared the night of the feast.

He drops his staff and raises his hands slowly. He tilts his head to the side over the large column of his neck. His sharp jaw flexes.

We are both breathless at the speed of our exchange.

“Akemi, one. Atlys, zero,” I say.

But before I can revel in my victory, Atlys only snaps his fingers, and the floor beneath my feet disappears and I’m falling.

“What the—” I manage to say before plunging underwater . Frantically, I flail to the surface, drop my staff into the depths, and kick my feet until I inhale sweet gulps of air.

A bright orange fire appears on the far end of the pool, a flag next to it.

He is putting me through a series of tests!

Long, pale arms are already cutting through the water toward the fire.

“Sun burn me!” I only just learned to swim a month ago and it shows with the pace at which I swim. The fire feels impossibly far away each time I glance at it.

I keep swimming even after I see Atlys lazily sitting along the edge of the water.

Finally, reaching the side of the pool, my exhaustion sets in.

I can barely pull myself upward onto the ledge, failing twice before flopping myself onto the hard stone ground.

I turn on my back and stare up at the glowing crystals and bioluminescent buds along the vines.

My chest heaves and aches, and my arms and legs feel as firm as Rosie’s bread pudding. That is to say, not firm whatsoever.

To my left, Atlys is lying down, already dry from the fire. Not minding one bit that I’m struggling to even breathe, that asshole. The warm glow of the flame casts shadows along his muscular torso, now crunching as he adjusts his elbow underneath his head.

From underneath wet lashes, I spare a glance in his direction. He is beautiful, lethally so. He looks like he is lounging on a feather bed, not a hard, rocky cave floor. Though I suppose this might be more comfortable for him, considering his entire domain is underground.

He reaches over and moves a sopping wet lock of hair out of my face. Heat scours his gaze, like molten silver, watching me wet my lips. His jaw flexes as he leans in closer until his mouth is a hair’s breadth away from mine.

“Your light is so peaceful,” he murmurs, almost to himself, “like the stillness of morning before the sun fully rises. You quiet them, and I’m devastated to know why.”

Transfixed by the twin silver irises swirling before me, I whisper back, “I quiet what, exactly?”

Atlys pauses, deliberating. “My thoughts, others’ thoughts. All of the noise is utterly silenced when I’m near you.” He leans closer, lightly touching his nose along the nape of my neck, inhaling my scent with deliberate restraint.

“Oh,” I say breathlessly.

Atlys pushes away from me, veins straining under his muscular forearms. My heart rises into my throat, and I let my treacherous brain wonder how those thick arms would feel around me, how his calloused hands would feel curling into my back, how his lips would feel on my…

“Atlys, one. Akemi, one,” he purrs with an insufferable smirk.

Asshole.

It’s going to be a long night, indeed.