We walked past the iron gates. As imposing as they were, I couldn't register their size. My mind was somewhere else entirely.

  All I could hear was the sound his blade made when it met my father's neck. The warm drops that splashed my face. The dull thud of his body hitting the floor.

  "No matter what, stay strong."

  He knew. He had known they were coming and said nothing. Did nothing. Just sat in that chair and waited. My thoughts grew louder and louder until something pulled me back.

  The cold came without warning. Something black and smooth rolled over my arms like smoke, wriggling across my skin as if drawn to it. It felt natural. Like the one puzzle piece that had always been missing finally found its place.

  I was so caught up in it that I walked straight into the girl in front of me.

  She had me on my back before I finished falling. The bow was in her hand before I saw her reach for it, an arrow already drawn and aimed at my face.

  "Do not touch me again."

  My heart slammed. Sweat ran cold down my face. She wasn't bluffing and we both knew it.

  Something broke open in my chest. Anger, hot and sudden, and then something else answered it. A tendril of black shadow coiled around her ankle and wrenched. She went down hard. The arrow released and the fletching grazed my hair on the way past.

  I couldn't see straight. Something darker was reaching toward her from the shade of a nearby tree. I stretched out my hand without thinking, then forced it back down. She stopped moving.

  My whole body was shaking. What did I do?

  Charlotte was already there, crouching over her, one hand pressed to her side.

  "She's unconscious. Not dead." She stood and crossed to me in three steps, grabbing my armor and pulling me close. I could feel the anger coming off her like heat.

  "I didn't mean—"

  "Control yourself." Her voice was low and hard. "I will not lose this mission because a recruit cannot manage his own power." She let go and walked back.

  A hand touched my shoulder. The younger boy. He didn't look alarmed. If anything he looked almost amused.

  "Don't worry about it. My first time using magick I nearly killed my trainer." He held out his hand. "Dormin."

  "Oren." I took it and let him pull me up. "Sorry about all of this."

  "Don't be. She'll be fine." He glanced ahead at Charlotte, who had healed the girl with some kind of magick. She was back on her feet already, walking ahead of us with a limp. The leather on her leg was permanently darkened where the shadow had touched it. Every time I looked at it I felt sick.

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  "So Damian personally escorted you in," Dormin said as we fell into step at the back of the group. It wasn't quite a question.

  "More like dragged," I said.

  He smiled but didn't push it. We walked in silence for a moment. I studied him. He was younger than everyone here, that much was obvious. Too young for this by any standard I knew.

  "How are you here?" I asked. "I thought the minimum age was fifteen."

  "It is." He reached up and adjusted one of the throwing knives on his chest strap. His arms, belt, and chest were covered in them, each one a different shape. "I was born here. My mother was an assassin. She had me in secret and when they found out they had her killed and made an example of her." He said it the way you'd talk about the weather. "I've been here my whole life."

  I didn't say anything for a moment.

  "I can't imagine that," I said finally.

  He shrugged. "You get used to it."

  I kept the rest of what I was thinking to myself. Damian had personally escorted me. Personally killed my father and then personally walked me through the gates. The anger sat in my chest like a coal, slow and constant.

  He'll get what he deserves. That much I can promise.

  Charlotte's fist went up.

  We stopped. Ahead on a hilltop, three bandit scouts stood watching the landscape. Charlotte looked back at us and her eyes found Layla first.

  "Position yourself for cover. Quick deaths. No room for error."

  Layla nodded, leapt into a nearby tree, and disappeared into the canopy without a sound. Even with the limp she moved like she'd been built for it.

  Charlotte looked at me and Dormin, made a fist, then pointed to the right flank of the camp. Dormin was already moving. I ran after him.

  "What do I do?" I asked when I reached him.

  He put a finger to his lips.

  I looked back. Charlotte and Rellen were already moving up the hill together, low and quiet. Charlotte's blade came from its sheath without a sound, lightning coating it like a held breath before a storm. Rellen moved beside her, greatsword drawn, the blade chipped and dark with old blood but sharp where it counted.

  Three arrows cut from the trees at once, each from a different angle. The scouts dropped before they hit the ground.

  Then the horn blew and the camp erupted.

  Ten bandits came over the ridge at a full charge. Dormin moved before I registered he was gone. Blades left his hands in bursts, too fast to track. Three bandits dropped with his knives still in their throats.

  I ran up to cover him and caught my own foot, stumbling hard into his side. His next throws went wide. Four bandits closed around us instantly.

  An axe came down at my face. I got my sword up in time but the impact drove through the blade and up my arm hard enough to make my teeth click. I rolled clear and let it bury itself in the dirt, came back up and swung at his leg. The blade skidded off his shin guard. He smiled and lifted the axe again.

  An arrow found his ear. He dropped onto me.

  I shoved him off and looked toward the trees. Three more arrows. Three more bodies.

  Dormin pulled me up. "Don't apologize," he said before I could open my mouth. "Nobody died."

  Rellen walked over, sheathing his greatsword. He looked between us slowly, shaking his head.

  "Most pathetic thing I've ever watched. Dormin letting a first-timer knock him sideways." He laughed.

  Then he stopped laughing.

  We all did.

  A shadow fell across the top of the hill.

  An axe flew.

  It landed in Rellen's head. The impact drove it halfway through his skull. Blood hit my face. My stomach dropped out from under me. He was dead before he touched the ground.

  A deep laugh rolled down from the ridge.

  "Children." The bandit chief stepped into view. Heavy black armor, dark with old blood at every joint. He held out one hand and the axe tore itself free from Rellen's skull and snapped back into his grip. Both axes ignited, fire blooming hot enough to push the air back like a physical thing.

  "They send children to take me out." He almost sounded offended. "Let me show you what a real fighter looks like."