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I stare at Arthur, the words he just spoke swirling around in my head.
Something the others know nothing about.
I tell myself it could be harmless, but the force of his tone has me filled with a sense of deeply rooted foreboding.
“It’s imperative you keep the task to yourself,” Arthur says, studying me so intently, I struggle to breathe. “At first, you may need to play along so as not to raise Elodie’s and Jago’s suspicions. But, at some point, I expect you to break away long enough to complete your mission on your own, understand?”
I shake my head. “Honestly,” I say, “I’m feeling a little lost here.”
Arthur’s gaze narrows, the fine lines around his mouth deepening in a way that makes my palms go all clammy. “You’ll find the instructions secured in the pocket of your gown. It’s a bit of a puzzle, I admit. But that’s where your skills come in, those both innate and learned.”
“Did Jago have to do this?” I ask before I can stop myself.
Arthur regards me for a long, steady beat, and I feel myself shrinking under the intensity. “No,” he says. “But then, you have something special that Jago lacks, and I wouldn’t consider putting you to the task if I wasn’t convinced of your ability to see it through.”
I shift my weight nervously, needing Arthur to finally reveal this special quality only he can see. I’d nearly convinced myself that all the stuff about me being the one who would help him achieve his greatest ambition was a bunch of made-up nonsense. But now I can see he’s entirely serious. And while it’s nice to know that the legendary Arthur Blackstone believes in me, I’m still not sure that it’s warranted. Despite the handful of wins I’ve scored in this place, my swordcraft, language, and equestrian skills have proved marginal at best.
I want to tell him he’s wrong about me, but before I can even open my mouth, Arthur says, “Make no mistake, Natasha. For you, this is no ordinary exam. How you perform on this Trip will determine everything that comes your way next. My only expectation is that you succeed. Nothing more, and certainly nothing less.”
I swallow past the lump in my throat.
“Now,” he says. “Are you ready?” The way he stands before me, like a sprinter at the starting block ready for the pistol to sound, it’s clear he’s ready for us both to move on.
Wordlessly, I nod, trying to appear more confident than I feel.
He claps a hand on my shoulder and says, “Roxane will take you from here.”
I turn to find a woman, probably somewhere in her early thirties, clutching a clipboard. Her straight blond hair hangs just past her shoulders, and she has the sort of sleek polished sheen of a person who grew up with horses, tennis lessons, and yacht parties—a world rife with power and privilege. But her blue eyes are warm and friendly, and her smile instantly puts me at ease.
She starts to lead me away when Arthur calls, “And Natasha—”
I glance back over my shoulder.
“Bon voyage.”
He grins in a way that lights up his whole face. And for a fleeting moment, I get a glimpse of the young boy he once was. The one who, one long ago night, looked out at a sky full of stars, said,What if?And then actually went looking for answers.
A moment later, he’s turned away, and a team of people descend, all clamoring for his attention.
