This is what the Fae did to us: their greed, their neglect, their lust for more power, their elitism. Despite Aeidas’s beautiful words and vows to end the Hex, how could I even consider for a second that he’s any different than his kind who caused all this?
My trembling hand rises to shield my eyes but the images of suffering linger, refusing to fade.
The nights are getting longer, and soon, the sun will set forever.
This will be one of the first places to be swarmed by Shadowfeeders and Tainted; that pale blonde girl who tried to give me a flower but got shooed away by the Fae soldiers would be torn into pieces or join their ranks, just like Tayna.
Tears of powerless rage wet my cheeks. The world might be dying, but I still need to win this. Maybe there’s hope. Maybe Aeidas’s documents are false. Maybe I’d be able to find us a safe island somewhere…
“One small step after the other, Talysse,” Father’s favorite saying echoes in my mind, just like back then when he was encouraging me to climb trees in the garden. “Only with small steps you’ll make it to the top.”
For a brief moment, I find myself longing for the simple comfort of my father’s arms, his voice reminding me that I’m a survivor. But such comforts belong to another world—a world that no longer exists.
The house we’re brought to spend the day and prepare for the last Trial looks like a richly dressed corpse. The Unseelie have done their best to make it more presentable but achieved the opposite. The hastily dragged luxurious furniture, silver cutlery, and golden-threaded fabrics only deepen the contrast between the lavish decadence of the court and the suffocating reality in the kingdom’s outskirts.
Two tall Fae soldiers clad in black take me to the doors of my room.
“How many contestants have returned?” I ask, and to my surprise, the bearded one with the soft brown eyes answers.
“It’s only you, the prince, and Galeoth, m’lady. Lord Galeoth is wounded, recovering in his room. Seems like the waves crushed him against the beach rocks, and the healers asked not to disturb him.”
“Take me to him,” I demand, but the soldier shakes his head.
“He’s asleep, m’lady. We better let the potions do their work.”
I weigh in on my options for a long moment. Sneaking out is out of the question—the stern face of the Fae confirms that. My heart heavy with dark premonitions, I straighten my doublet and enter my room.
This can’t be good. If Gale survives this but cannot participate in the Trial, he’d have to face the winner, even if he’s in a helpless condition. One way or the other, he’d be slaughtered. And so would be I, if I’m not smart about this.
One small step after the other, Talysse.
To get better chances at this, I need rest. So I throw myself on the hard bed, covered in silk sheets, but sleep is elusive. Sweet shudders run down my body when flashbacks of the past night haunt my mind, followed by the cold, terrifying reminder that these could be my last hours. Memories of my childhood home and the serene face of Tayna finally give me the peace I so desperately need. After hours of tossing and turning, a fitful sleep claims me.
*
A hard knock on the door startles me awake, and I look through the grid window, rubbing my eyes with the heel of my hand. The day is dying, its blood staining the Wastelands. The old village mage heads to the crumbling two-story house they use as a Beacon, supported by two young men. It’s the perfect capture of this dying realm.
The guard with the kind brown eyes enters and leaves a tray loaded with fresh food at the corner of the bed, then leaves without saying a word. Fingers trembling, I pile sauce-dripping meat on a slice of bread and force myself to chew and swallow. The food tastes like ash, and my fingers tremble. Soon it will be all over.
Just after finishing my meal and splashing some water on my face, trumpets summon us outside.
It is time.
The first stars flicker through the weak Blessed Light spell covering the village. Mage Stargaze is already there, her appearance more alien than ever. She looks like a well-preserved corpse who was called back to life and brought some strange knowledge along from its trip to Atos’s Underworld.
Aeidas stands there, too, his straight shoulders clad in his usual inky shirt, his Ancestor’s Mark visible on his bare chest. Fierce longing pierces my heart when I see him, his silver hair flowing in the evening breeze, his thumbs tucked in his belt.
This cold-hearted Fae bastard. He’s not even looking at me. His face looks haunted, his eyes—bloodshot, and his gaze is fixed on the court mage. Steps echo behind me, and—Elders be blessed—Gale appears, limping, but winks merrily as he sees me. He’s a bit paler than usual but looks fit enough to fight.
“Remember what I told you back in Nighthaven, Talysse,” he whispers as I walk by. No time to ponder over his cryptic words as Aernysse starts talking.
“Pride of Phyllesia, best of the best, welcome to the Final Trial. The Elders have chosen a wise way for you to prove your virtue and devotion. Deep in the Silverbriar Forest lies a forsaken temple built in honor of the union between Atos and Cymmetra. It was a holy ground once. Now, the woods are the playground of Shadowfeeders, Tainted Ones, and other foul creatures. Your goal is to cross the woods and make it to the temple alive. There you must light the sacred fire.”
That cannot be that hard, right? Cross a forest, survive, and light some damn fire.
“To win, you’d need to light the fire with the Flint and the Candle of Azalyah.” All eyes pin me now, making me shuffle uncomfortably. “And you should be the only one alive of all contestants. There could be only one winner,” she continues, her voice rising to a morbid crescendo. “If another one makes it to the temple alive, they can challenge the owner of the objects or do whatever it takes to obtain them. By any means necessary. The king and queen and the grandest noble houses will be present at the temple to witness the final.”
Just great. Gale and Aeidas will hunt me for the relics, then fight each other over them if they get me, and the last one standing will light this Elders-cursed fire under the applause of the whole Unseelie court. Or I’ll find some clever way to walk out of this alive.
