Hosea was locked in indecision. He stared, trying to discern which of us—two women with something to prove—would receive the more powerful weapon. His eyes bored into mine. Would I have the power to wield it, the potential? My stomach flinched. I needed the Helix to attain freedom. But, in a way, I cared less about the sword than Hosea Khan’s conclusion. My heart turned over as his gaze roved over my body.

He dropped his eyes, his decision made. “Voltaire,” he said. “You’re next.”

The Apex

THE APEX

That night, I didn’t wait for Voltaire’s summons. I went to her camp, deciding on the way not to tell her I’d been fooled by her disguise. Fly Man was awake and Voltaire was mending a pair of britches. “You’re early—English.”

“I know. Can we just start now?”

She made a face. “No, we cannot start now—English. If you don’t know, the world spins on an axis and you are not its center.”

“Fine, I’ll wait.”

Fly Man giggled and waved me over to sit next to him.

I smiled sadly. He reminded me so much of Fount, but I had to stay away. Reeling my heart in, I declined his offer and sat cross-legged, a few feet away from their beds.

Voltaire snorted. “If you can’t sit with us—English—kindly wait by your own tree.”

I looked guiltily over my shoulder. I’d hurt Fly Man’s feelings. For that alone, Voltaire would take pleasure in torturing me the rest of the night. I stood and stalked away.

I had nowhere to go. Most everyone else was by the dinner fire, but I had no right to be with them—not until I mastered the Helix and put spying for Jones behind me forever. My own bedroll was off limits as Hosea was there, mixing his medical potions.

Out of options, I walked by myself. In the silence, there was nothing to distract me from recalling the climax of the day’s training. Hosea had snubbed me, again.

Soon after he handed Voltaire her weapon, it assumed its basic form. Two lethal blue bars, connected by a chain. After a demonstration, she had wielded her nunchucks, as Hosea had called them, in a few basic patterns, swinging them around her body in a blue fan. At full speed, he said, the fans made a complete shield. He had chosen her for the nunchucks, he said, because the spin patterns were complicated, requiring keen intelligence.

Voltaire stepped back in line and Hosea called me forward. I minded my breath, giving away as little as possible as I accepted my weapon. Hosea avoided my gaze. I had no idea whether I had won the contest between Voltaire and me.