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Afterward, Valerian whispers in my ear, “That was sexy as hell.”
“Darn right it was,” I respond, grinning ear to ear.
A few shadows even clap me on the back, and Mack can’t stop talking about the fight on the way back to the dorms.
But my high only lasts until I see the flyer plastered to our door announcing the Lammas festival this weekend celebrating the victors of the first gauntlet.
Kicking Reina’s ass might have been easy, but whatever Hellebore has in store for us won’t be.
20
Friday comes way too fast. Instead of combat class in the evening, we’re taken to the gym, ordered to change into our Shadow Guardian uniforms, and each allowed to choose two weapons to wield in the gauntlet.
Wired with nerves, I fidget near the back of the line, toying with the metal zipper at the front of my outfit. When it’s my turn to choose my weapon, I stare at the table full of options before choosing a wrist-mounted crossbow and a standard issue iron infused sword.
Both are two of the most badass weapons I’ve ever been allowed to use—not counting the forbidden bow I stole last school year or Aunt Vi’s shotgun—but now, in my clammy hands, they feel about as lethal as twigs.
Mrs. Richter presides over the table of offerings, and she gives me a grim smile before handing me a metal sleeve with iron-tipped bolts and a back scabbard to carry the sword.
“Thank you,” I say, grateful for the extra supplies.
All of the students own personal scabbards and other equipment, many handed down for generations. Everyone but me. Mrs. Richter kindly promised I could borrow the shared equipment we use in class.
Most also had their own spandex Guardian uniforms made for the occasion. Even Mack finally gave in and let her dads order a beautiful, custom fitted outfit that fits her curves like a glove, a metallic sheen making the supple onyx fabric seem to ripple as she moves.
Mine, on the other hand, is a faded loaner uniform that’s stained with Titania knows what, is a size too big, and sags in the crotch.
Ruby already made a joke about me being happy to see her before I sent her off on a fake errand.
Reina snickers from nearby. “Aw, look. Puke Face is wearing hand-me-downs. How adorable.”
The nearest twin laughs on cue. Despite Reina’s beatdown—or perhaps because of it—she’s graced me with another nickname.
Mack rolls her eyes. “While you’re handing out clever nicknames, you might want to create your own. I was thinking Busted Nose or Shiner, but that might be too literal.”
Reina’s eyes flash with rage. Inara must have refused to let her be healed after the fight because her nose is still very much broken, and deep reddish-purple bruises circle each eye.
Mrs. Richter blows a whistle, announcing five minutes to finish dressing, and we all switch our focus to the upcoming task.
My nervous fingers fumble with the clasp of my back scabbard, and when it comes to clipping the sleeve to my belt, it’s like my fingers are made of Jell-O. Finally Kyler comes over and helps me, even though she looks as nervous as I am.
I give her a kind smile despite my anxiety. “Thanks.”
She just nods without making eye contact.
Afterward, we all don leather armor to cover our forearms and deflect blows, and light vests woven with special material to protect our vulnerable torso and stomach.
I’ve never felt more like a Shadow Guardian than now, wearing the standard uniform, nor have I ever felt more unworthy of that title.
I crack my neck. Why am I so nervous?
I’ve trained with the crossbow and sword a million times by now. Besides, the last two sessions, Valerian and I synchronized like we’ve been fighting in tandem for years.
Breathe, Summer. You’ve got this.
Adjusting my high ponytail for the millionth time, I follow Mack, Kyler, Layla, and Jace to wait with the others until everyone has chosen their two weapons.
Mack’s fingers shake as she tries to pin the Seelie symbol to the front of her suit, just above where her protective vest stops.
