Quickly, I conjured an illusion, dark as the shreds of shadow I’d scattered in my wake. But this one was huge, encompassing the maze intersection and trailing down the corridors. I turned in a slow circle, staring into the darkness. But kembric still glowed incessantly at its boundaries.
I sighed, and released the illusion.
I squeezed my eyes shut. But I could still see the maze’s light—a red glow against the backs of my eyelids.
Desperate, I crouched, wrapped my hands around the hem of my dress, and tore. The fabric ripped ragged, but I kept at it, until I had a length of fine-dyed cotton in my hands. I folded it thickly, then wrapped it around my face. I yanked it tight, the makeshift blindfold scratching my cheeks. I tried to open my eyes.
Darkness—darkness, at last—fell soft and thick around me. I lifted my hands in front of my face, but I might as well have been blind. Again, I turned in a slow circle, hope chasing despair across my heart.
And then I saw the glimmer in the dusk. For a moment, all I could think of was the Scion’s Vow I’d known since childhood:I am the sun staring at the twilight. I am the solace that banishes blight.I am the moon shining deep in Midnight.
But it was neither sun nor moon. The distant shine was the same color as these living stones, except now it was isolated by darkness. Haltingly, I walked toward it. My brain screamed at me that I was about to walk into a wall, but I ignored it. Two steps. Three. I shivered, because I should already have bounced off those hateful kembric slabs. But I just kept walking. I could almost imagine I’d left the physical world behind, because nothing stopped me as I strode through the midnight of my mind. I walked straight on, following that glittering metallic gleam, which was slowly resolving itself into—
A crown.
My steps sped; I flew forward. My rational mind kept insisting I would trip, I would run into something, I’d wind up on the ground with missing teeth or a black eye. But I just kept moving, focused on that perfect light, my hands flailing through the blindness for its touch.
The sound of a crowd roaring crashed over me like a clamorous wave. I knew in that instant I’d cleared the maze, and without breaking stride I ripped the sweat-slicked blindfold off my face. Light screamed into my eyes. The racket of the cheering crowd slammed into my ears and disoriented me. I flung myself toward the dais at the center of the Oubliettes as if by memory, my fingers reaching—
I saw Gavin—one more shining thing amid the tumult of light. He barreled toward the dais from the opposite side of the cavern. He caught sight of me a moment after I did him, and our eyes met across the plinth. He blinked.
My legs crumpled, as if some force had swept them clean out from under me. I collapsed onto the floor, wheezing. My fingers found the lip of the dais. I dragged myself forward, my nails scrabbling against stone. I reached—
The kembric crown Relic leapt the last few inches from its granite hollow to fit itself into Gavin’s palm.
The crowd exploded into frantic noise. Gavin lofted the Relic, pumping his fists toward the sky and roaring triumph. And if I screamed from my place on the floor—screamed from rage and frustration and exhaustion—no one heard me.
I clawed my way into a standing position and stared into Gavin’s smug, bleating face. And I knew I’d never be able to forgive myself for two things that happened today.
I’d never forgive myself for losing the first Ordeal.
And I’d never forgive myself for being weak enough to let Gavincheat.
Guests had been told to arrive at Oleander’s party in a costume that either concealed or contradicted their true nature.
The palais still echoed hollow with the celebrations of Gavin’s victory. I’d put on a brave face in those aching moments after he’d won the first Relic—clasping his hand and congratulating him around bared teeth—but I’d taken the first opportunity to leave. My friends had caught up to me quicker than I’d wanted, and I couldn’t shake the looks on their faces as they watched me scrub angry tears from my eyes. They’d pitied me—pitied me for solving the maze too slowly, pitied me for losing the Relic to Gavin.
But most galling of all, they pitied me for future loss. Because no one thought I could win the Hand Ordeal, scheduled just two days from now. And if Gavin won the second Ordeal, this competition would be over. And I would have lost without ever getting the chance to win back the ambric Relic, the Heart Relic—myRelic.
Only Oleander treated me the same. She’d helped me out of the leather armor she’d made me, and casually said,I scheduled your party for the day after tomorrow.
I choked on confusion.My party?
Yes,your party. That you asked me to plan?
Helpless anger made me rude.Cancel it. I’m in the middle of the Ordeals.
Scion give us strength to endure the fickle whims of the dreamy dauphine, said Oleander, to no one in particular.Our lives didn’t stop because you challenged your cousin to an archaic underground death match. I’m not canceling. And you still need to choose a theme.
And I remembered—I’d already thought of a theme. Days ago, after a sun-bright Gavin had lied to me through his teeth. After all the dreams I’d fought for had begun to feel like lies. Still—I didn’t know if being honest about deception would earn me trust, or yet more condemnation.
Surely it didn’t matter now.
The theme for the party should behidden selves, I said.
She’d seemed impressed. But the party couldn’t stop me from obsessing over the darkness behind that blindfold, the shadows I’d scattered behind me that had warned me too late—too late—of the mistake I’d made. Scion, if I’d been mere moments faster, if he hadn’t caught sight of me in those spare seconds before I’d reached the dais—
I tried to relax my clenching jaw as I climbed into my costume. I’d asked Oleander to design a kembric dress much like the one I’d worn to defeat Severine. Sharp blades of mirror glass traced the scars on my arms when I put it on, but I knew that with a flick of the wrist, the bodice and skirt would fall away in an ombré train to reveal a sleek dusk-lit gown splashed with opalescent gems. I’d commissioned a handheld mask to match—on one side was the sunburst face of the Sabourin sigil, and on the other was the pale staring face of the moon.
