Hosea inched closer to me and lowered his voice, as if we were not the only ones listening. “You said yourself, it doesn’t matter why you get a sword, so long as you get one. So let it go, Cobane. Civil war is upon us. There’s no way to avoid it. Believe me, I’ve tried. The White-Face Army will strike at the Joust just over two weeks from today. I’d bet my right hand that Hasting will deploy the Guard in force. It will be their last chance to stop the rebellion before the Assembly gets involved. The other Keepers will be sitting targets. At least, with a weapon, you can take care of yourself. Accept the gift and stop asking questions.”

I leaned in. “But you told me to question everything.”

“Not this,” he said. “Trust me, you don’t want to know. So stay out of it.”

My breath caught and my skin rippled with gooseflesh. I could see in his eyes that he was trying to protect me because, somehow, he cared for me. I fumbled for words. “Hosea—I. Thank you.”

He shook his head. “Don’t thank me. I’m only following the Director’s orders.”

“But you spoke to him on my behalf. You convinced him to spare me.” I lifted my chin, daring him to deny my words.

He shrugged. “Believe what you want, but take a look at your wrists, Cobane. I bound and gagged you. You’re right, these are dangerous times. You’ve got to learn to watch out for yourself.”

For the second time his eyes flashed a warning. I shifted and looked down at my wrists. I could smell the coconut cream he’d given me along the lacerations. I looked back at him. “You bound me, but then you let me go,” I said.

“So?”

“So—you may not be my friend, but you’re not my enemy.”

Instead of answering, he turned away, busying himself with his bedroll. He climbed inside and turned his back on me. “Be ready to train in the morning, Cobane.”

The Optimist

THE OPTIMIST

That night, I lay awake unable to contain the confidence brought on by Hosea’s news. I saw myself by the Schoolhouse window. Jones towered over me. She lifted her leg and I heard the familiar whisper of fear—she kicks like a donkey. But, instead of cowering, I stood tall, Helix in hand.

I rolled onto my stomach, biting my nails. Once I escaped, my home would be the oasis. My walls, a solid rank of trunks. My roof, an awning of leaves. The Guard would come for me. But, with the sword, I would protect myself. Even if Jones came in the flesh; I could master her. My eyes darted, searching for a hole in my plan. I couldn’t find one.