thing the Westie’s so good at cleaning,” Eugene said as he turned toward the exit. “I hear it’s a family trait.”
Tavar’s section of the floor, which had been sparkling clean and almost completely dry as he buffed it with a dry mop, was now covered in filthy, gray-brown water. He watched without protest as the boys left, their laughter echoing down the hallway.
“’Night, Bri.” Corbin nodded to me as he poured his own bucket down the sink in the cleaning closet, then set it neatly where it belonged beside the closet door. He shot Tavar an apologetic glance. “Good luck, brother.”
The compound was silent. I finished drying my area as Tavar went to the closet for a clean mop, his jerky movements the only sign of frustration in his otherwise stone-like demeanor.
I cleaned up my own dirty supplies, then paused in the closet and checked the curse. It was dull and relaxed, lulled into boredom as it often was when I had to do chores or homework. I’d been training alongside Tavar for a year, and it still exhibited nothing more than vague, uninterested condescension toward him. Perhaps—
I grabbed a clean mop and went back to the hallway, then resumed mopping at the edge of Tavar’s wet, muddy section, monitoring the curse for reprisal. It gave none. It must have thought I was still mopping my own section of the floor.
Triumph shot through me, but I focused on the mopping motion and the pain in my arms and legs, successfully distracting the curse. Tavar didn’t speak, but I caught his eyes once and looked away quickly, hoping he wouldn’t address my actions directly.
We finished cleaning his floor well after the dinner bell rang. It didn’t matter. My family had given up waiting on me for meals ages ago. They were probably relieved not to have to spend time with me.
I checked the curse as Tavar and I put our supplies away. It was still bored, unbothered by his presence.
“They’re idiots,” I mumbled to Tavar, hoping the curse would assume I was just complaining about Eugene’s comment to me on the field. “Ignore them.”
He nodded, his jaw rigid. “I do.” His Western accent had faded slightly over the past year, but he rarely spoke at training, so the accent was always noticeable to me when I heard his voice. “You should, too.”
I shrugged. “I don’t have a choice.” I bit my lip—the words had just slipped out. Would the curse notice?
It remained quiet as we approached the building’s exit. So far, so good.
“You’re limping.” Tavar frowned at me.
I looked away. “Doesn’t matter.” The curse remained still, but I was certain it was listening now.
“Been limping since we left the field.”
“I said it doesn’t matter.”
“You don’t rest that leg, you won’t recover.” He held the door open for me as I limped through. “You don’t recover, you’re not gonna be a Sentinel after all.”
The curse shifted slightly, as though paying closer attention to his words. Maybe that was good. Maybe it would finally let me rest on our time off from training, at least.
“Thanks for helping me,” Tavar added. “You didn’t have to.”
I nodded warily and hoped the curse wasn’t paying too much attention. “It’s fine.”
The street outside the compound gate was dark and quiet. The government workers in this area had all gone home for the evening. “Got that skills test next week.” Tavar paused at the corner where we would turn our separate ways—him, to the River Quarter, and me, to our villa in the Mage Division. “We could study together. If you want.”
I held my breath.
Yes, the curse preened magnanimously after a moment of consideration. He is the best of those silly recruits. You would do well to learn from him, and perhaps it will improve your next evaluation.
“Fine,” I sputtered, shocked at the curse’s acceptance. “Whenever you have time.”
I walked home on a footpath of clouds, my skin tingling with a joy I couldn’t stifle, though I tried. I imagined talking to Tavar, studying together, sparring together. After a full year of curse-imposed isolation, the fantasy of simply being with another person was tantalizing.
Happy Anniversary, Briar Rose, the curse whispered as I lay in my bed that night, my knee throbbing. Only four more years to go.
There went the joy. That was fast.
Chapter 8
“You’re done already?” Tavar raised an eyebrow as he watched me from over his training manual, the dim luminous light in his tenement apartment making his features look even more perfectly sculpted than usual. “I