“She’ll live. Boy, get water, and hurry.”

I grimaced. That was Jones. Just hearing her voice made my gut clench. Everyone got quiet as the boy, Jetson, fetched water. Presumably, Jones would use it to wake up my unconscious body still lying above on the classroom floor. I hadn’t seen the weapon she had pulled from her desk, but she’d hit me hard. Hard enough to send me here, to the brink of hell.

“Here’s the water, Teacher.”

Jetson was back! They all got quiet again as, I assume, Jones tried to revive me. With one hand, I felt my forehead and temple. I wasn’t in pain, though I should have been, given what had happened up there before I’d fallen. I remembered everything. Giving Covington my essay, defying Jones, running to the window, cracking my forehead. I remembered it all, but none of it mattered down here—except what I’d seen on the gallows.

The Guards must have arrested William last night, when he’d snuck into my room. Jones had had them patrolling the streets of the village, looking for men wanted in connection with the fugitive. There was no way someone as large and famous as William could have passed undetected. So, why had he come? Why hadn’t he waited until after the Joust, when the risk of discovery was low? Oh, William!

Following the announcement of his name in the arena, a stunned silence had fallen over the crowd. When he’d been halfway to the gallows, someone had started to hum his tune. As he’d mounted the steps, the masses had not been cheering, as they had with the other criminal. They had all taken up the tune and sung him to his death. I cocked my head. I could hear them humming still. Their voices drifted up from the arena, across the testing suite and down to me.

My papa had been well loved. His people had honored him as a king, and he had watched over them—silent and strong. My heart ached and I curled over, longing to be with him.

After a long while, my sobs subsided. I pushed myself upright and dried my face. Of all the people my father had loved, he had loved me best. Love was why he came to me last night, despite the danger. He risked his life to bring me my Apex. In the oasis, he encouraged me to practice, so that I would be strong.

He had laid down his own club, but he would not want me to languish here in the Pit. He would not want me to abandon my body above and go further into the darkness. No, my papa wanted me to fight. I stood, knowing what I had to do. I walked down the hallway to confront her.