Recurve

A glance at Granite showed only his usual stoic face. I struggled to my feet and limped after them. The next task was all core strength, keeping our bodies in a full plank position, balancing only on toes and fingers as Granite piled rocks on our backs.

I don’t know how many I held up before I fell to the ground, but with each failure, my confidence slipped further away. How could I make my father proud if I couldn’t even handle the physical side of things? The part that Granite thought would give me an edge over the others was proving to be anything but.

Yet I couldn’t give up, and I wouldn’t stop trying.

The hours stretched until the six of us were laid out on the floor, unable to move, the light fading around us. There had been vomit, crying, and even some shit as one of the guys lost control of his bowels. That had been in the swimming portion and he’d been first. And yes, Granite made the rest of us swim through it. We literally had to swim through shit, which had produced more vomit only adding to the mess in the water. That was not pretty and just the thought of it made my stomach clench. If I’d had any food in me, I might have lost it too.

“All right, how many of you are ready to keep going? Stand up if you’re ready for your next test. Stay down if you’re done.”

I wanted to stay down, goddess my body ached like I’d been run over by a herd of buffalo, then been beaten by switches until my skin burned. Rolling to my belly, I made it to my hands and knees, took a breath and got to my feet. I faced Granite, knowing I was signing on for a night of pain and exhaustion.

“That all you got, old man?”

I thought I maybe saw his lips twitch. If they did, it was there and gone so fast I couldn’t have said for sure.

“Start from the beginning then.” He flicked his wrist and the dirt hill appeared in front of me. The other recruits snickered. Facing the hill of sliding dirt, I evened out my breathing and then started. In minutes I was on my hands and knees, crawling up the slope as it slid out from under me.

“Get to your feet!” Granite roared.

I forced myself up, falling to my knees, pushing myself back up. Sweat seared my eyes, dirt sticking in the creases of my eyelids, scratching at the tender skin, but still I didn’t stop. I couldn’t.

Granite would report back to my father and I had to do everything I could to make sure the report was that I was going to make it. That I could be an Ender.

The hill fell away and I went without being told to the ropes. My arms quivered as I pulled myself up. If my feet were more than an inch off the ground, I would have been surprised, but I didn’t look down, just up. There was nothing for it but to keep going. To keep fighting for my place here.

In the quiet hours of the morning, I struggled out of the pool, shit and vomit sticking to my body.

“Enough,” Granite said, and I fell to my knees. “Get some sleep, you start again in a few hours. And tomorrow is going to be harder than today.”

There was only one thought as I stumbled to my room, peeled out of my stinking clothes and sponged down with the clean water someone had left out for me in a basin by my bed. How in the holy seven hells could the next day be worse?

It couldn’t be; Granite was just trying to scare me.

I was wrong.

Chapter 7

From working in the fields, I knew I would need fuel to keep going, and at breakfast I ate as much as I could. Oatmeal, fruit, cheese, milk, and several slices of toast slathered in butter.

“So, not only are you useless, you’re going to eat us out of the pantry?” That was one of the other new recruits, the lean one from the day before. I stopped chewing, swallowed my food and leaned back in my chair. “Mal?”

He nodded, smiling at me, but I saw the fatigue in his eyes.

“You ever work as hard as you did yesterday in your whole life?”

Mal didn’t answer, just tightened his lips.

I snorted. “That’s what I thought. If you’re going to make it through, you need to eat. No fuel, no go. And Granite is going to make us go until we drop.”

The other recruits looked at one another and dug into their breakfasts. Mal did not. I didn’t care. I wasn’t there to help him. The Enders ate at the far end of the kitchens, their eyes on their plates. Except for Ash, who stood with his arms folded over his chest, arm bands pressing hard into his biceps. I held a piece of toast up and saluted him. His eyes narrowed, and I smiled. Maybe I was digging a hole with him, but he hated me anyway so what did it matter? “Ash, did you get the dirt out of your leathers?”

The other Enders lifted their heads and looked from me to Ash. “Dirt’s easy to get out,” he said, his voice that deadly soft tone that I instinctively knew was a bad sign. “Blood, not so much.”

I swallowed hard, the piece of toast in my mouth suddenly too much to get down without a drink. I spit it out on the table. “Good to know, if I get blood on mine I’ll be sure to ask you how to do laundry.” Standing, I left the room, feeling stupid. Why did I poke at him? He was obviously one of the queen’s lackeys, which meant . . . what exactly? Did that mean he was an enemy? A cold shiver ran down my spine. Yes, Ash was an enemy and I needed to be careful. Until I could prove otherwise. Or maybe ‘if’ was a better word for that.

Three people I didn’t recognize waited for us in the training room. A man who towered over me, which meant he was at least seven feet tall, with a willowy lean build and long white hair in a braid to the back of his knees. He was in the forefront of the small group with his back to me. Encased in white leathers studded with brass buckles and rivets, and I knew without asking that he was an Ender for the Sylphs, the air elementals.