"Too bad," Beck says with a grin. "Some of them are really funny."

"Still not interested," I say through a mouthful of bread.

Brunhild appears, dropping onto the bench beside Beck with enough force to make the table jump. She slaps a hand on the wooden surface, making our plates rattle.

"You come to training after meal," she says, her tone brooking no argument. "I show northern fighting style. Make you strong for Crucible. We focus on unarmed combat and grappling skills."

“Don’t we need to go to weapon’s training after we eat?” I ask. It has been a few days, and our schedules often shift around, but I’m pretty sure I remember that much.

"Is canceled,” Brunhild says, wiping something slick from her fingertips. “Someone accidentally spill cooking oil all over classroom floor. Too slippery to fight."

I stare at her. "Did you do that just so we had time to train together?"

"Brunhild has no control over where oil spills.”

I glance at her boots and see dark stains on them, then grin. "Right. Thanks, Brunhild."

She grunts in acknowledgment before stealing a slice of meat from Beck's plate. He watches her with puppy-like adoration, not even protesting the theft.

"Any news about Malakai's weapon stash?" I ask in a hushed voice, leaning toward Mireen.

Mireen shakes her head slightly. "Not here," she murmurs. "Too many ears."

I nod, understanding. Trust is in short supply these days, especially with the Crucible so close. I scan the dining hall, noting Malakai's contingent seated across the room. His one remaining eye meets mine briefly, his face twisted in a glare like usual. Serena has moved to stand beside him and is whispering something in his ear, her eyes never leaving me. The message couldn't be clearer: I'm their target, and they're not bothering to hide it.

Rumors may have swirled about me being dead, but they see I'm not, now, and I'm sure they'll be folding my death back into their plans as soon as possible.

My gaze shifts to the legacies' table, where Bastian sits surrounded by his peers. When he notices me looking, he gives a nearly imperceptible nod.

The conversation spans everything from class assignments, developments in our elemental training, the latest gossip about a rumor that Sestra and Pilton used to sleep together. The idea is about as believable to me as our table growing legs and running off, but the story is at least an amusing distraction.

After we finish eating, Mireen leans close to my ear. "Meet us in the eastern tower storage room in half an hour. We'll fill you in on everything while Brunhild trains you."

I nod, rising from the table. "I'll see you all there."

"You cannot trust them fully, but they are at least marginally useful," Typhon observes as I navigate through the dining hall.

"They're my friends, Typhon. Not just tools to be used. And I do trust them fully."