Shards of Flame

Chapter 6: Angus

I can't get Ess' gut wrenching screams out of my head. I shouldn't have killed that Glass person. It's clear from her reaction that she knew him. The way he looked at me, his eyes staring straight into mine, daring me to do it. To let go of the string. It chilled me to the bone, a feeling I can't shake, even now. The blank look on Ess' face when my father called out her name was terrifying, like she wasn't scared, or worried, or felt anything at all. Now she stands next to my father, only a few feet between us, but it feels like she's a whole world away. A smattering of applause still rings through the crowd, but most of the citizens stand in silence. Small sobs reach my ears and I scan the crowd for the source. They come from a woman, middle aged, who's huddled into a man, who stands defiantly, looking like he hates the world. Ess' parents. Her mother's cries tug at my heart, making my mask threaten to crumble away completely. My father clears his throat, the sound echoing around the square. I straighten my back instinctively at the noise.

"Esmerella Firn. This centuries' Glass competitor in the Imperial Trials!"

All the embers start clapping and cheering, in contrast to the still air that hangs over the glass crowd. Hundreds of pairs of judgemental blue eyes crawl over my skin like spiders. There's an uncomfortable feeling spreading through the air as we walk off the stage. The crowd parts, creating an avenue down the middle for us to walk through. As we stride down the makeshift path, people throw us scathing glares and looks deadlier than Ess'. By the time we reach the end of the crowd the hostility is suffocating.

"Thank you for your time," my father says, "you may all return to your usual activities."

He flashes the citizens a dazzling smile whilst they all disperse from the square, heads bowed in hushed conversation.

Once the citizens have dispersed, my father turns to Ess. "Esmerella, please meet—''

"It's Ess." She interrupts.

"I'm sorry?" My father says, a fake smile on his face.

"My name. It's not Esmerella, its Ess." She says shortly, a defiant glint in her eyes.

My father coughs. "Very well then, Ess." Her name slides off his tongue, the word a hiss. "Please meet my son, Angus." Ess' eyes flick over to mine, fire blazing in the usually freezing pits.

"Pleased to meet you." I say, reaching a gloved hand out to her. Ess stares at my hand, at the fingertips that brushed through her hair last night, the fingertips that loosened the bowstring that held a killing arrow. Then, her gaze lazily meanders up to mine, and she reaches her hand out to clasp mine.

"Please. The pleasure is all mine." She says, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

I bite back a groan when her hand grips mine hard. Really hard. She pulls her hand back and gives me a sweet smile. I wince when I move my hand. She might have broken something, the little cretin.

"We must make haste back to camp."my father implores.

A small snort comes from my side and when I turn to look, Ess is covering her mouth with one hand. However, when she sees me, the amused light in her eyes shuts off. Her eyes turn cold and dead again, much like when I first met her. The slight droop of her shoulders causes guilt to choke me, wrapping its shadowy hands around my neck.

"We will be meeting the Meadower trialist soon, they will join us on the train when we reach the Meadow in a few days..."

Ess nods in understanding. We walk back to camp in utter silence, guards trailing behind us like a snake of armour and swords.

Soft heat reaches us when we near the camp. Ess is already sweating, a sheen forming on her pale face. Tops of tents appear over the mountain, the pointed peaks silhouetted against the ever darker sky. Light creates a halo around the mountain, the orange glow spreading over the stars. As we get closer more guards rush out of the makeshift gate to usher us in. Gentle heat envelopes me as we walk closer. Ess shrinks next to me, the heat too intense for her to bear. I lay a hand on her shoulder, which was intended to be comforting. However, she glares daggers at me when I touch her. She grabs my hand, and hisses at me,