time hating one another. Every so often they took a few steps forward, until the road beneath them turned from stone to sand. Just as the horde of men in front of them became smaller than that behind them, Tobias once again, perhaps for the hundredth time, peered around the crowd.
“Holy hell.”
“Are we there?” Milo asked, struggling to see. “Are we near the fountain?”
A short distance ahead was a large bronze fountain, its centerpiece a shining statue in the likeness of Ceres, the realm’s first Savior. But Tobias was far more interested in what lay beyond it; well over one hundred canvas tents were scattered far and wide, extending all the way to the fortress walls. Men trooped from tent to tent, some small like Milo, others large and bearish, all escorted by women in white dresses.
Tobias took in a deep breath. “Yes. We’re near the fountain.”
Time passed quickly when it had once seemed unending, and Tobias found himself missing the infinite waiting. Calm yourself. Anxiety crawled through him, and he wrested himself free of its pull. None of this had anything to do with him.
“Next in line,” a woman shouted.
They were at the front.
A woman in a white dress tied at the waist with a braided belt—the standard outfit for a servant of stature—stood before them, staring at an unrolled scroll in her hands. Her gaze darted to Milo. “Name?”
“Milo Christakos,” he said.
Her eyes panned to Tobias. “And yours?”
“Oh, he’s not entering.” Milo turned to Tobias. “Isn’t that right?”
Milo’s gaze became challenging, as if daring Tobias to reconsider. Tobias faltered, but only for a moment.
“Right.”
The woman glanced between the two, tilting her chin up and down to compensate for their height difference. “You have until sundown if you change your mind—”
“I won’t change my mind,” Tobias said.
The woman frowned, turning to Milo. “Follow me.”
Sighing, Milo looked up at Tobias. “Well then, any parting words?”
Tobias’s throat tightened. “I hope they don’t pick you.”
“A cynical shit till the end, I see.”
“For my sake,” Tobias said. “I can’t lose another.”
Milo went quiet, staring at Tobias with a look he wasn’t accustomed to—weakness. Finally, his cheeks picked up into their usual grin. “Have faith, brother.”
He hurried behind the woman and disappeared among the tents.
Tobias let out a heavy breath. Men filed around him, but he stood frozen, anchored to the ground like the nearby fountain. Slow seconds passed before he was able to shake the spell, and he abandoned the pool, making his way back into town. Pink streaked the sky, the sun just beginning to set, and his stomach rumbled; it was past dinnertime, and he hadn’t eaten all day. Fucking Milo. He hurried on his trek home, trying to focus on the path ahead as opposed to the day’s tribulations, but the strain within him didn’t lift.
His sister’s howls tore past the walls of his cottage, and Tobias pushed open the door and barreled inside. Naomi lay stiff in the center of her bed, digging her fingers into her sheets and burying her face into her pillow. Her body seized as if struck by a bolt of lightning, and she let out an agonized cry.
Tobias spun toward his mother. “More shocks?”
“Tobias!” His mother sprang from the bedside. “Where in God’s name have you been?”
“How long has she been like this? She was fine this morning—”
“You had me sick with worry,” his mother snapped. “Gone for hours without a single explanation.”
“I went to get valerian root.”
“And you were there all day?”
“The apothecary was closed. I tried, I—”
“Tell me where you’ve been,” his mother spat. “Tell me. Now.”
His mother’s gaze was sharp, but behind the vitriol, he could see her fear. “I didn’t enter the pool. I’m right here.”
His mother wavered, forcing back tears. “Don’t ever do that to me. Not again.”
Tobias mustered a quick nod before hurrying to Naomi’s side. She was a vision of misery, her eyes clenched shut, her hair plastered to her wet cheeks. He leaned into her and whispered, “Naomi…”
“There’s nothing you can do,” his mother said, hovering over him.
“I went into town.” He rested his hand over Naomi’s. “Everything was closed. I can get the valerian root tomorrow.”
Naomi’s back shot straight, and she shrieked in pain.
His mother grabbed his shoulder. “Tobias, you’re just upsetting her.”
“I’m trying to help.”
Naomi reeled once more, and his muscles clenched in response. He slid his fingers through her hair, brushing the strands from her face. “Naomi…”
His mother loosened her grip on his shoulders, her touch firm but kind. “Son, you must be