As soon as he spoke the words, blue, silver, and green flames ignited in the jar, and danced and twisted around each other. My lips parted in awe, watching the mesmerizing movements.
“As the conduit, I shall choose at random the first task.”
Herald untwisted the lid and plunged his paw inside. The pooka cringed, and a small scream escaped his lips.
Reflexively, I wanted to smack the jar out of his hand, but I knew I couldn’t. He’d volunteered for this, knew what to do, and it had to be done.
I wouldn’t let his sacrifice be in vain.
His paw flailed inside the jar, until finally, with another scream, he grasped onto the blue flame. The pooka pulled it out, opened his blistered paw, and allowed the fire to dance above the pads.
At first, nothing happened, then suddenly, the blue flame soared into the sky and expanded to form a star with fireworks coming off of it.
“What does that mean?” I asked as everyone else squealed and clapped.
“That is the symbol for conjuring,” Henri whispered into my ear. “Your first trial is conjuring.”
Fan fucking-tastic
“If you wish to back down, I’ll go easy on you,” the Red Queen said smoothly. “I’ll only punish you—none of the friends you’ve so blindly led into trouble.”
My stomach clenched at the threat. Not for myself, but for my friends. But like the pro pretender I was, I brushed the discomfort away and smirked. “Not a chance. To avenge my parents, yoursisterin particular, would be the highest honor.”
A ripple of emotion that I couldn’t place crossed her face before a mask fell over it once again, and she glowered at me.
I returned her hard glare with one of my own. I’d struck a nerve when I mentioned my mother. I tucked the information away for later.
Herald coughed, breaking off our stare.
I turned to him and jerked back. His eyes, once gold, now glowed the same color as the blue godsflame. I glanced up at the sky to see that the symbol was gone, and understanding washed over me.
Herald was the conduit of the trials. For the duration of the competition, he’d absorbed the godsflame.
“The winner of two out of the three challenges takes the crown of Wonderland,” Herald said, his voice distorted, more booming and resonant than before. “In the case that a winner cannot be determined in one challenge, an additional trial will be added. The godsflame will decideeverything, from challenge locations, times, when the Trial is over, and the winner. Its choice is final.” Herald waved his hand, and blue aether—the godsflame—seeped out of him to appear at his side.
My eyes popped open wide. What was this? My team had been wrong?
“That can’t be right!” the Red Queen roared. “The crowd is supposed to be the deciding factor on who wins.”
Herald shook his head. “Incorrect. To assure that a just and fair monarch is selected, the gods of old have given us the godsflame, imbued with theiressence and will,to decide the rightful outcome.”
The queen’s face grew fire engine red. “Well! The Wonderland Court has no need for such arcane rules. We’re civilized and can treat others fairly—even if they do wish to overthrow the rightful crown. Isn’t that right, my loyal subjects?” She lifted her arms and, as if on cue, the crowd roared.
I stared at those closest to us, and noticed their eyes looked glazed. If I had to bet, I’d guess that the queen’s witches were somewhere nearby, working their magic to ensure the queen’s support. Or the enchantment that the fog imparted to demand loyalty all those years ago was just that strong.
“We will proceed with the will of the people judging these trials,” the queen said imperiously when the cheering died down.
Was this really happening?Couldit happen?
I glanced at Herald. He caught the motion and shook his head ever so slightly. My breath loosened.
“I’m afraid that’s impossible, Your Majesty,” he said aloud. “The godsflame assures me that, should any reigning monarch try to alter the rules of a Trial by Aether, the old gods will smite them.”
“What?!” The queen rounded on Herald, but the blue fire bloomed and formed a lightning bolt that hovered right over her head.
My hand flew to my mouth. That symbol was ancient, of the old gods, and represented their will from beyond the grave—or wherever they’d gone, no one really knew. It was a threat, a sign that they could still affect us, strike us down unseen.
The Red Queen’s eyes grew wide. Perhaps for the first time since she’d taken the crown, she was realizing that she couldn’t bully her way out of this. That the old gods’ will and raw power, the godsflame, would destroy her if she acted out of turn.
