Total pages in book: 247
Estimated words: 235897 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1179(@200wpm)___ 944(@250wpm)___ 786(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 235897 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1179(@200wpm)___ 944(@250wpm)___ 786(@300wpm)
Anything.
I adjust the blank leather cover disguising Dad’s book and reread the passage on trial by combat for different levels of entrance to Unnbriel’s court, then roll my left shoulder with a wince. Pushing into my stiff trapezius muscle doesn’t help soothe the protesting joint, either.
“You were too hard on her last night,” Garrick grumbles at Imogen, grabbing his book from Bodhi.
For all that we’re reading, I can’t begin to contemplate what’s on Jesinia’s desk.
“Fuck off,” Imogen mutters behind me, flipping a page aggressively.
“I’m fine.” I spare a glance at both of them, then continue down the page. My father’s observations on the combative isle are sharp, almost clinical, but lack his usual insight. There’s a marked difference between this book, written when he was twenty-three and straight out of the Scribe Quadrant, and the manuscript he left for me in his office.
But when did he visit the isles? Or have the time to transcribe the rudimentary dictionaries that have quickly become the bane of Dain’s existence?
“She’s rotated every single one of her joints at least three times in the last hour.” Garrick’s tone sharpens. “I’d say that means you need to lighten up—”
“Nope.” Imogen flips another page. “You’re not taking your frustrations with Carr out on me. If Violet thinks we’re doing too much, she’ll tell me.”
I glance over my shoulder to see her twirling her forefinger, suggesting Garrick turn back around, while Quinn leans over her shoulder, reading a volume Queen Maraya sent on venin and their medicinal uses.
Given how difficult it was to get our hands on these books, it’s wild to think that Garrick could probably walk straight from here to wherever her library is.
I blink, then lean forward, bracing my elbows on the wall right above Bodhi’s head. “Hey, Bodhi?” I whisper so only the two of us can hear.
“Hey, Violet?” he answers, looking up.
“What’s your second signet?” I lower my voice even more.
He lifts his brows, then glances in Garrick’s direction. “Don’t have one.”
“As in you don’t have one that I get to know about but will eventually see you wield, or don’t have one have one?”
A corner of his mouth lifts into a wry smile that reminds me of his cousin’s. “Don’t have one. Just like Xaden. Why?”
“Curious,” I admit. “And selfishly hoping you’d be able to do something cool like keep Halden from speaking.” Gods only know what he’ll do at the other isles after his performance on Deverelli.
“If I could, would that mean I get to go on the next expedition?” His eyes light up.
“Heads up,” Garrick says, and we both look forward as a first-year with a rebellion relic steps into the pit with Timin Kagiso—the newly promoted wingleader for Second Wing. “Let’s try to keep anyone else from burning.”
Go figure another fire wielder was Second Wing’s executive officer when Aura died.
“On it.” Bodhi sets his book on the wall and takes a step closer to the mat near the end of the squad.
“Still can’t believe they made Stirling the senior wingleader,” Sawyer mutters, glancing up the rows to where Panchek watches with other members of leadership.
“Better than Iris Drue,” Cat notes as she works out a knot in Trager’s shoulders. “Pretty sure she’d murder every flier in their bed if she could.”
“True,” Sawyer agrees, his attention shifting up the steps. “I thought you all had physics right now.”
Rhi and I both follow his line of sight as Lynx, Baylor, Avalynn, Sloane, Aaric, and Kai descend the steps on our right. The first-years are here.
“Got out ten minutes ago,” Sloane replies, her gaze darting over us—or rather, our books. “We came to help.”
“Excellent.” Rhi jabs her thumb over her shoulders. “Empty row behind the third-years. Take a seat and watch.”
“That’s not what I mean.” Sloane crosses her arms and lifts her chin in a way that reminds me of her older brother. “You’re in charge of your mission now, right?”
“Yes.” My stomach sinks.
“We want to help.” She gestures to the books.
Ridoc shakes his head. “First year is hard enough without adding all this into it.”
I’m with him.
“You’re one dragon short of even pairs,” Avalynn says, completely ignoring Ridoc. “You know, in case you need to split up for some reason.”
Rhi cocks her head to the side.
“Odd numbers don’t bother me—” I start.
“What Sorrengail is too nice to say is first-years aren’t going,” Imogen says.
“Or helping,” Garrick adds over his shoulder.
“Didn’t ask you,” Baylor challenges, glaring in Garrick’s direction. “Last time I checked, we’re the actual Iron Squad and you’re a substitute teacher.”
“That’s not a fight I’d pick.” I lift my brows at Baylor.
“Unless you’d like your ass kicked,” Garrick offers with a flash of a smile.
“Sit or move,” Dain orders, walking down the stairs. The circles under his eyes have my brows knitting. Between decoding my dad’s clues, studying for his own classes, and his duties as wingleader, he’s taking on too much, and I’m a major reason for it.