Magic, weaponry, battle planning…various things. The trials are open to all of Faerie—to anyone who wishes to ascend. With each mastery, a title is granted and added to our name. The title increases status. The marker on the arm is proof of ascension. The royals of the Diamond Throne are pushed to collect as many as they can. It looks good for the Sovereign if you have at least ten. Most are able to do this.
She frowned as she rubbed her thumb across one of the lines.How is this proof? Someone could just make the tattoo themselves.
He broke out in goosebumps again as her thumb traced his skin.What you see is not…how they should look. It’s further mockery of my situation. If Equilas sought to make me harder than any fae has a right to be, she chose the correct tortures. If she sought to make me cruel, more cunning, more willing to destroy…she chose correctly there, too.
Her gaze flicked back and forth between his eyes, seeing the darkness lurking there. The wicked deviousness. This fae had suffered, and it had crushed him into something she couldidentify with. Something dark and twisted, maybe not magically, but certainly morally.
“Is he telling you he didn’t really earn all those rings yet?” Niall called over, the others all watching. A couple of them snickered.
Tarian shifted uncomfortably. “I…had an advantage.”
“Bullshit,” a female with bright red hair down to her waist said, a braid running down each side of her face. A splash of freckles stretched across her nose. “The amount of power a person possesses only helps inoneof those trials. You mastered the others because of natural talent and staunch determination. We were with you—we saw the many hours you put into training.”
Daisy looked at their arms, not seeing the same lines. “Did they not want to participate?”
TheFallenlooked between them, many flaring their elbows. “When Equilas stripped our wings,” the redhead said, “she also stripped away the proof of what we are. Except for the scars. Those you can still see if you look hard enough.”
“Or, in Gorlan’s case, if he constantly shoves his arm in your face so you can’t help but count all fifteen of his rings,” Niall said, pushing a darker-skinned male with thick black lashes.
“Well?” Gorlan replied. “Besides Tarian, I got more than all but one of the royal family, whom I tied. That’s kind of fucking awesome. You’d shove it in everyone’s face, too.”
“Besides the king, too,” said Darryn, Niall’s similar-looking brother. “He has sixteen.”
“He doesn’t count. It was easier back when he took the trials. He made them harder so no one could match him.”
“Joke was on him.” Niall smirked.
Daisy looked at Tarian’s arm, counting the rings. Ten down to his elbow on his right arm, ten on his left. “How many trials are there?”
“Twenty,” one of theFallensaid. “No one alive, save for Tarian, has mastered them all. Any others are recorded in ancient scrolls. They might as well be myth.”
The others puffed up in pride at Tarian’s achievements, except for Tarian himself. He ran his fingers through his unruly hair.
“What is your advantage?” she asked him.
His gaze hardened. “My advantage turned into a curse, and the trials helped solidify the Diamond Court’s wariness about the possibility of my taking the throne forcefully.”
“And your family’s wariness that when the king passed on the throne,” Lennox said in a slow, deep drawl, “he’d pass it to the most qualified of his heirs. They all knew it would be you—not because of your magic, but because of all you’d done within your few short years?—”
“Enough!” Tarian barked, his command crisp and effective. Everyone fell silent. “It doesn’t matter now. My so-called advantages landed me—and all of you—in this position. It ruined our lives. All of us, including this innocent human who has to suffer because of the gods’ ill humor. Who has to fight a battle she has no part in. There’s no point in discussing it further. It won’t do any good. That advantage can’t help me now. Equilas made sure of that.”
Daisy wanted to ask again what the advantage was. She wanted to judge for herself if it helped or didn’t. TheFallendidn’t seem to think so, but it was clear they thought the sun shone out of his ass. She wondered if she’d be so generous.
His pain kept her from prying, though. The raw misery she could see before her tightened her chest in sympathy. She pushed aside the empathy threatening to overwhelm her and tucked away the gnawing curiosity. She’d delve another day when he might be more inclined to share.
We are ready.Stratow’s mental voice was like a boom of thunder.
“I thought you said he was too far away to hear,” she whispered as quietly as she could.
They are. They have the ability to push out their mental voices to be heard a long way away. It’s necessary as a flier.
So you can do it, too?
He took her hand and pulled her with him.Once. I’m not a flier anymore. That magic is lost to me.
Forever?She hadn’t meant for that question to sound so crestfallen. Before finding out what he was, she couldn’t imagine a way for him to be more attractive. Those beautiful wings, though, and that beautiful, well-cut outfit that Celestial had worn would really round him out.
He gave her a strange look.That remains to be seen. Come on, we’ve stalled long enough.
