Chapter 4

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If there were whispers or screams from the audience, I couldn't hear them. All I heard was my heartbeat, my blood pumping, echoing in my ears. It helped me remember to breathe, keeping rhythm so I didn't pass out. I was trying to find the bravery to stand up. I knew I had to move. I had to move now.

So. I moved, amazed at how obedient my muscles were under the circumstances. They froze, for a moment, and then followed orders again by shuffling out of my seat a few steps.

I stared at Eldridge, ignoring my mom's hand squeezing mine. My dad released a heavy sigh. I risked a glance at them, hoping they weren't crying, but only my mom's eyes shimmered. My father's eyes showed forced pride and courage.

"Don't be scared," he whispered. "Take the next step."

The thick silence continued. I now realized why the candidates from the Academy sat in the front seats. The walk from the middle seats under the Arches seemed to take forever. The slight buzz of conversation made me feel an urgency to get backstage, but my muscles wouldn't go faster.

My father's words echoed. I took a step. I remembered how Evangeline walked up, with confidence. But I didn't have that, and I couldn't pretend now. I looked at Patterson, as Eldridge was no longer on the stage. Had I missed that? Where had he gone?

Patterson maintained focus, but his brown eyes seemed sympathetic. The Academy students glared as I walked past them, furious at being snubbed for a person who had never trained one day in their life.

I felt my legs ready to give way right as I got to the stairs, but I pushed forward.

You can do this. You can't do this. You can. You can't.

A song played in my head in time to the slow procession of my march to the stage, a horrible rhythm of doubt and courage fighting a battle neither of them could win. Because the one thing Eldridge had failed to mention was the 27th Protectors' survival rate. Being a great leader in the business of Protecting led to martyrdom. Only three out of the eight 27th Protectors had survived their year in service. I tried not to think about that as someone snapped a picture.

Patterson took my hand, his expression unreadable. He smiled a little and shook it, taking my forearm to hold on to me for a second and pat my back like he had the other Protectors.

"Eldridge is waiting for you," Patterson whispered. "Behind the curtain. You're doing great. Give one small wave to them, then you can go."

I barely put up my hand, but I nodded to the audience. Some applause rose, along with some cheers and yells. I was about to be more overwhelmed than I already was.

"That's good," he said. "Move now."

I obeyed without thinking. Patterson continued to address the crowd a few seconds later. He was covering for my shock by saying more eloquent things and smiling, both of which I would never have managed to do at that moment. I went through the parting in the curtain in the back of the stage. Eldridge wasn't there. No one was there. No one ordered me to move now.

So, I didn't.

I bent over, my hands and one knee hit the floor. My fingers spread beneath my shaking arms to try to hold my weight.

I must have said it under my breath twenty times. "What were you thinking?" Other 27th Protectors wanted this, desired this, or felt snubbed when rejected by the Academy. They were brilliant. They probably dreamed of being named.

The applause rose again. It was coming from outside the curtain. I stood up, almost ready to run.

"So, you react to simple escape reflexes? That's a good sign."

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