HARPER'S POV
There's something off today. I don't know what it is yet, but I feel it crawling up my spine like cold water dripping down my back. The sky's gray but not stormy, and the air smells the same, like damp grass and sweat and too many bodies packed into one camp. Everything looks normal on the surface.
But I know better than to trust the surface.
I wake up to the usual chaos, boots stomping, guys shouting, someone's fart echoing in the hallway like a war horn and I drag myself out of bed and into the line for the bathroom like I didn't just spend the whole night staring at the ceiling and praying my potion holds up for one more day.
Damn witch hasn't gotten back to me yet.
Jace throws a shirt at my face. "You are dead last again, Hunter."
I grunt, flipping him
