in your trial scores and get on the list. Don’t waste any more time trying to fight sandstorms. Get a proper trainer first.”
Ksenia had heard about the tryouts the previous evening, through the speaker on her bracelet. She glanced down at her wrist and her heart stopped. All that graced her wrist now was a pale band of skin where the bracelet used to be.
She sat up, ignoring the dizziness that gripped her whole body. “Where is it? Where’s my bracelet?”
“Slow down, Ksenia. You need to rehydrate for a few more hours before we can discharge you. All your belongings are safe, I promise.”
The doctor walked to a sleek cabinet beneath the window that lit up when she tapped the front. The smooth door swung open, revealing Ksenia’s backpack and sword within, a small transparent pouch half-filled with sand, and the clothing she’d been wearing when she left.
She caught a metallic glint inside the bag and relaxed. Her bracelet was safe, so she should be able to find the others when she was ready.
“Thank you. I promise I’ll find a trainer. Is there a . . . a list somewhere I can pick one from?”
The doctor gave her a quizzical look. “Usually new trainees have their trainers picked out years in advance and perform at the tryouts with that trainer’s interests in mind. Haven’t you already made your choice? Perhaps whoever trained your favorite champion?”
“Then whoever trained Midnight Star. I want that trainer.”
Dr. Taji went still, narrowing her eyes, and Ksenia was positive she’d said the exact wrong thing.
Shit.
“Astra Garrick was originally trained by her older brother, Talon,” Dr. Taji said evenly. “Ksenia, is there something you’d like to tell me? Were you really out training in the sandstorm, or did something else happen?”
“Um . . .” She winced, but the doctor just gave her a sympathetic look and settled on the edge of the bed, resting her hand on Ksenia’s forearm.
“Honey, this is a safe space. Whatever you say to me I will keep in confidence. My chief concern is your health and well-being. If you were abused, if you ran away from a bad situation, you can tell me. Your bruises aren’t unlike the bruises of a champion, but if you received them some other way, you can confide in me. Okay?”
Ksenia blinked rapidly, touched by the doctor’s obvious compassion. Very few people in her clan saw her as someone worthy of tenderness. Just because her skin was naturally more durable, even without manifesting her scales, didn’t mean the hits from the rock eaters’ tails didn’t hurt, or that the viper strikes didn’t sting. She had more than enough scars to show for her hard work defending her Clan.
She followed the doctor’s gaze to one of the numerous bruises on her forearm, a ring of reddish purple that would have remained hidden beneath her armor. Two days earlier, Ksenia had engaged in a stand-off with an enormous rock eater snake. When she’d brandished her sword, the thing had whipped out its tail, coiling it around her wrist several times, then squeezing to force her to drop her weapon. She’d had no choice but to shift into full dragon form to defend herself, which was always a last resort due to the risk of cave-ins if the tunnel couldn’t accommodate her size.
The rock eater had slithered back into its hole, less about three feet of tail which would eventually grow back, and Ksenia had been left with this bruise. At a glance, the trio of stripes could have easily been from another person’s grip, however.
She cleared her throat. The doctor’s assumptions were as good an excuse as any.
“I just needed to leave. I wasn’t sure where to go. But the part about training isn’t a lie. It’s just that I’ve been . . . trapped for so long, I don’t remember who’s who. Is Midnight Star . . . um, is Astra’s brother not an option?”
Sadness seeped into the doctor’s gaze and she shook her head. After a long sigh, she said, “Ksenia, Talon Garrick died several years ago. I’m sure he’d have loved to have trained you, though. You have the same spark that Astra has. She trains with her mates now. But I’ll see if I can find a list. The trick is vetting them to find someone who fits your style of fighting.”
“What about the matchmaker?” Ksenia blurted. “Could she, you know, match me up with the right trainer? That’s what she does, isn’t it?”
Dr. Taji