The silence lingered long enough to be uncomfortable, but Allyra refused to look away, tamping down on the instinct to swallow down the lump in her throat. She would not give Marcus, or anyone here, the satisfaction of any sign of weakness or fear.
Eventually, Marcus spoke again. “I want to offer you my personal congratulations, Miss Warden. Your selfless bravery saved lives today. Your Gift is powerful, perhaps more than expected. Whatever the outcome of The Five Finals, I’m sure you will go on to achieve great things in your life. And I, for one, will be watching with great interest.”
Allyra inclined her head warily, acknowledging his praise. He had managed, for the benefit of those watching, to impart sincerity and benevolence. But beneath the flowery words, talons had prodded at Allyra’s mind, scratching along the surface of the protections she’d built around it. It wasn’t a true attack on her, just a reminder that he was watching.
Marcus smiled and swept from the room. Allyra let out the breath she’d been holding. With every passing interaction, she was becoming more and more sure that there was something very wrong with the Elemental High Master.
Lost in her thoughts, she jumped unseemly when a hand landed on her shoulder.
“A word please, Miss Warden,” High Master Zhuang said.
“Of course,” she replied, walking with him. But when Jason made to follow them, High Master Zhuang stopped him. “Alone,” he said pointedly.
For a second, it looked like Jason might protest, but eventually, he nodded and said, “Yes, High Master Zhuang.”
The High Master of the Terra College led her from the room, through a long corridor, and into a room in an adjoining building. The room was large enough for its walls and ceiling to show the rounded curves of the domed building, but otherwise, it was mundane and filled with standard pieces of office furniture, the impersonal nature of which suggested the room was little used.
As soon as the door closed behind them, High Master Zhuang turned to her, his dark brown eyes flashing with barely contained anger. “What do you think you were doing?” he demanded, his voice raised, irreconcilable with his usual restraint.
“Excuse me?”
“Why did you go into the storm? Did Jason tell you to?”
“I went into the storm because my friend was out there. I wanted to do what I could to help,” she replied heatedly.
High Master Zhuang slumped into the chair behind his desk, closing his eyes and pressing his fingers into his temples. “You have no idea what you’ve done,” he said wearily.
When he didn’t explain his words, Allyra jumped in to demand one, tired of cryptic half-truths and the lack of openness. “What is it that’s so bad about what I did? I saved lives today, maybe not Chi’s, but there were teams still out there and at least some of them are alive because I chose to go into the storm.”
High Master Zhuang didn’t move or speak for a long time, but when he eventually looked up, there was no anger left in his gaze. There was nothing but deep weariness and disappointment so profound it forced Allyra to take an unconscious step back. “Today, you saved lives, but what about tomorrow?”
“Why can’t you just say what you mean?”
“Can I trust you? Why are you really here?” The questions were spoken quietly, aimed more at himself than her, but they set loose the anger she’d kept reined in for so long.
“Why am I here?” Allyra retorted. “I’m here trying to survive, trying to stay alive in a competition filled with killers that you and the rest of the Council thrust me into. I didn’t choose any of this.”
High Master Zhuang watched her carefully, his intelligent eyes studying her. She tried not to squirm under the scrutiny. Finally, he nodded. “You don’t trust me. I don’t blame you. Maybe I wouldn’t trust me either under the same circumstances. But you should know that I’ve trusted you, and I’m wondering now if I did the right thing.”
His eyes dropped to the tiger tattoo on her wrist. “That’s an interesting tattoo, Miss Warden,” he said deliberately.
She couldn’t help the instinctive reaction to close her hand over the tattoo, trying to hide it from view.
“I suppose you’ll say you had it done since the Elemental Trials,” he continued. “But I would remind you that there’s little you can hide from your doctor. Or perhaps Jamie has already told you I know.”
He sighed. “I know that’s no ordinary tattoo. I know, and yet I chose to keep the knowledge to myself. I just hope that I haven’t let sentimentality cloud my judgment.”
A brief flash of a memory escaped him, and she caught onto it.
High Master Zhuang—much younger and carefree. Drinking and joking, with—with her father.
“You knew my father,” she whispered.
He looked up in surprise and then nodded. “I knew him a long time ago, he was a fine man, and there was much to be admired about him. Courageous, perhaps a little tempestuous at times, but always trustworthy and fiercely loyal. And above all else, he always knew where true north lay. Your father had an amazing sense of justice.” He glanced at her. “In many ways, you remind me of him. And it is out of respect for your father’s memory that I’ve chosen to trust you now.
“Your father was powerful, and despite a less than stellar performance in The Five Finals, there was little doubt he would go on to rise into the most vaulted of positions within the Gifted ranks. But one day, when you were only a few months old, he left, cutting himself off from the Gifted. And he left behind a massive void.
“There are politics at play, and you don’t understand the fragile dynamics of the power structure within the Gifted
