Page 66 of Carousel

He gestures with his hand.

“Many of you have sat exactly where Ara and Drake now sit. In the interest of camaraderie – and in thanks for the Hevallan values you have displayed – you are invited here today to join myself and my first officers in welcoming our new friends, who, we hope, will become Fully Integrated soon.”

He holds up his tumbler to the light of the chandelier in a toast.

The whole room lifts theirs, Cosmer and Riss included.

I catch Drake’s eye. He is raising his own glass. He nods at mine.

I understand. The first test.

I raise my own.

“To Hevallan spirit,” Dezeeves declares, and the words are echoed around the room. It reminds me of our recitation of the motto after Sermon. In fact, this whole day has felt like Provision Day. The way it makes us perform.

People drink, and a low level of chatter starts up in the room as Dezeeves resumes his seat and downs his drink in seconds, like it’s just disappeared down a chasm. Placing the empty glass on the table, he beams a wide smile, then starts up what seems like an overly friendly conversation with Ephraine.

“Drink your drink,” Drake’s voice whispers in my ear. He’s spoken in Hevallan. And maybe that is the language we should use here. Not to draw any suspicion to what we might be saying.

“What if it’s poisoned?” I ask, flatly.

“It’s not.”

“How do you know?”

His face is straight. “I was taught to know.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Why? Did Banko have many assassins?”

The most altercation you’d get in a Banko village is if you crossed a fishwife.

I know it, and he knows it.

But to my aggravation, he makes no attempt to confirm or deny my question – or rather, my hidden accusation. All he does is take a long sip of his drink.

“See?” he says, swilling the glass before placing it back on the table. “Not poison.”

I’m not convinced.

“The effects could be slow.”

He leans right into my shoulder again.

“Ara. It is one of the tests.”

I look around and realise, in that moment, that he could be right. A young woman who must be Rhavnan directly opposite me is staring right at me… and the still-full glass in my hand.

Swiftly, I bring it to my face. It smells strong.

I gulp a mouthful of it.

It is strong. Stings the back of my throat.

But I know I’ve made the right choice. The woman’s posture relaxes. She’s watching me differently now, her elbows perched on the table.

I have to look away from her. Her stare is too disconcerting.

And then I notice that the person sitting beside her is Rike.