Page 82 of The Amber Sunburst

She has no idea why Zeno looks at her the way he does. She doesn’t deserve it—doesn’t deserve him.

When she comes back, Arete is curled up tight, facing the wall. Her quick breathing says she’s not really asleep, but Eudoxia doesn’t call her out on it. She slips into the bed and closes her eyes.

It takes hours for her to fall asleep.

19

LAZARUS

It’s late at night, or very early in the morning, depending on how you want to look at it, and Lazarus is staring at his ceiling, thinking. He’s been able to do little else recently.

The second Trial is in three weeks, and his focus is split between that and all of his shortcomings in the first Trial.

Scared for the future, haunted by the past. How he feels about the present, he doesn’t know. He doesn’t really have time to acknowledge it.

His whole cohort made it past the first Trial, which is impressive. He knows that. They’re one of two groups that made it in their entirety. But they nearly didn’t. He almost failed Zeno: the only person who has been kind to him since… he can’t remember when.

Part of him is afraid that he did it on purpose. That he left Zeno for last because he wanted him to be knocked out of the Trials.

He didn’t make the decision actively, but what if he did it subconsciously? What if he is so dishonorable that he does horrible things without even thinking about it?

When Zeno made it out, Lazarus didn’t feel relief. Just guilt that won’t wash away no matter how hard he tries.

Lazarus wishes Zeno were less kind and more calculating. Wishes Kallias were more desperate for power. Wishes Kleia were more cruel.

Wishes one of them would finally kill him and take his place so he wouldn’t have to live like this anymore. So he wouldn’t have to stress, stress, stress.

He wants to be dead or he wants to be done. But there are still two months before he knows who the Educator will be, and he has too little courage to end his own life, so he’s stuck halfway through Er’s journey with no ticket out.

Sleep should be a respite, but as his eyes start to droop shut, he hears a familiar, blaring voice.

“Auxiliaries. Welcome to the first Trial.”

“What are you doing in my seat?” Lazarus asks, glaring at Alexander.

“Didn’t know that we were glued to our usual desks.”

Kallias watches them from beside Alexander with thinly veiled interest.

Ah, so that’s why. These two want to play boyfriends in class, and Lazarus’ ideal seat—just far enough from the board to have a complete view, but not so far that he can’t see—is going to fall victim.

“Most people have the decency to stick to the one they’ve been picking for the past two months,” Lazarus mumbles with more annoyance than heat behind his words. He’s too tired to fight right now.

Alexander bites his lip, unexpectedly apologetic. “Look, man, I’ll move if you really want me to.”

“It’s fine, whatever.”

Alexander’s grin is the only warning Lazarus gets before he stands and yanks him into a weird, brief bro-hug.

“Thank you!” he exclaims. It’s a lot of enthusiasm for eight in the morning; Lazarus isn’t sure how Kallias puts up with it.

When Alexander pulls back, his eyes widen at such a close-up view of Lazarus’ face. “Whoa, dude, are you okay?” he asks, quieter.

“Yes. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Alexander gives him a patronizing smile. “No reason. Just… take it easy, bud.”

‘Bud’? Seriously?