Nevernight (The Nevernight Chronicle #1) - Jay Kristoff Page 0,168

Jessamine’s eyes were still locked on Diamo.

The boy was on all fours among the benches. Vomiting another gout of blood over the floor. Acolytes backed away, fearing contagion, the stink of emptied bowel and bladder, but Tric ran to the boy and knelt alongside him, uncertain what to do.

“Someone get some water!” Tric roared. “Help us!”

“You will do no such thing,” Spiderkiller said.

Silence fell in the Hall of Songs, broken only by Diamo’s long and wretched moans. Spiderkiller rose from her seat beside the Revered Mother. Her saltlocks writhed as she walked, a nest of serpents at her brow. Her dark eyes were fixed on Diamo, the boy’s hand outstretched toward her. He was on his back now, trying to speak, blood bubbling thick on his lips.

“Shahiid, please.” Jessamine groaned. “Please, save him.”

Spiderkiller blinked. “You all knew the rules of my trial. Those who try and fail, die. No mercy. No exception.”

“I…” Diamo gurgled at her feet, clutching the hem of her robe. “Sor … reee.”

“O, aye,” Spiderkiller nodded. “I’ve no doubt you are.”

The boy coughed, pink froth bubbling on his lips. He spasmed, flecks of bloody spittle spraying. Tric backed away as the tremors worsened. Diamo clutched his belly and screamed, dark blood bubbling out of his throat. Thrashing on the damp stone. Tears filling his eyes. Fingers clawing his skin. And at last, after minutes of wailing agony, with one last burbling cry, fell still.

Mia stood in the circle’s center.

Bloody gladius in her hand.

“That’s for Lotti, bastard,” she whispered.

“You bitch…” Jessamine was on her feet, blood drying on her tunic and lips. Clutching the place where Mia had skewered her. “You killed him…”

“Me? How? It’s not my fault he poisoned himself. Unless…” Mia tilted her head. “Unless there was something wrong with the notes he used?”

Jessamine snatched up her fallen rapier, face twisted in a snarl.

“Enough!” Solis bellowed. “Acolyte Jessamine, the bout is done. Weapons down. Point to Acolyte Mia. Resume your places, all of you!”

Jessamine drummed her fingers along her blade’s hilt. Glanced at Solis to take his measure. Finding no pity in his gaze, the girl tossed her blade aside. Hands moved quickly to remove Diamo’s body, mop up the blood left behind. Speaker Adonai licked his fingers clean and watched them work with twinkling eyes.

Jessamine sat down on the benches. Face like stone. Mia sat back at circle, opposite the assembled acolytes. Ash caught her eye, nodded in approval.

Good work, she signed in Tongueless. Ice cold.

Mia shrugged as if she’d no idea what the girl meant. Turned her gaze to Jessamine. The redhead was staring back at her. Fingering the golden chain about her throat, she nodded. Promising.

Mia smiled in return.

And she blew Jessamine a kiss.

Solis dismissed the acolytes to the Sky Altar for midmeal, reminding them to be back within the hour. The final would be fought before all assembled; the victor would wear Solis’s mark of favor. The first acolyte to finish top of hall would be named by turn’s end.

Mia and Tric sat across from each other at midmeal, plates heaped high. Mia plowed through her lunch with all the hunger a skipped eve and mornmeal could provide, trying to ignore Tric’s eyes. The boy didn’t seem hungry, poking at his food and sipping his wine, staring into space when he wasn’t staring at her.

Diamo’s death meant that Spiderkiller’s quandary was still unsolved—Mia could finish top of Truths if she dared take the challenge. But she’d not have to worry about poisoning herself if she won Solis’s trial, and Maw’s Teeth, after all the punishment he’d put her through, it’d be bliss to watch that condescending bastard acknowledge her as the winner.

On the other hand, Mia doubted Tric had a chance of topping anywhere else. He was no master at venomcraft, nor thievery, though she supposed he might have gleaned a secret or two from the ’Grave. Still, if she knocked him out of Solis’s contest, she was cutting his chances of being named a Blade by no small measure.

She could feel him watching her between mouthfuls. Brow creased. Lips thin.

Was he thinking the same as her? Wondering where exactly this was leading? Sooner or later, one of them had to lose. Sooner or later, one of them was going to get hurt. The tension was thick enough to taste it on her tongue.

“Did you do it?” he finally asked.

“… Do what?” Mia blinked.

Tric lowered his voice so the others might not hear. “Your notes. Did you leave them for Diamo to