“I’ll pay the price.”
“But what if it’s notyouthat pays it?”
I blinked, his words seeming to break through some of the fog in my mind. Leo handed me a thistle leaf. My fingers shook as I put it to my lips and murmured, “Finiscere,” and my spell on Callum broke. He sucked in lungful after lungful of air, still disoriented in my grip.
“Think about my father,” Leo said. “About Chaz. About the curse. You don’t know who will pay this price, Rose.” His voice wassteady, an odd contrast to the tidal wave rolling through my body. “It could be your aunt. Your cousin. Is that worth it? Isheworth it?”
Leo was right. We had no idea what the consequences of such a powerful blood spell would be, if it even worked the way we wanted it to. Branock Aris had been willing to accept the cost…and the entire empire had paid the price.
Would I be able to use it against Gayl? When the time came, would I be willing to acceptanyprice? Or would we be starting an entirely new cycle of curses brought about by the hubris of magic?
I let out a breath. My shoulders slumped as my hold on the dagger at Callum’s collar loosened.
I was about to back away when he caught his breath and smirked at me.
“Should’ve gone for the eyes, Feywood.”
My blade disappeared, only to be replaced with a stick. I looked down to see my dagger in Callum’s hand—he must have taken it from me and cast an illusion. Rissa cried out my name as the tip of the blade lunged for my ribcage.
Snap.
Callum dropped to the ground. Leo stood behind him, dark eyes blazing.
A scream left my lips and I fell backward in shock. Leo was there to catch me, cradling me in his arms.
“You’re alright, sweetheart. It’s alright. You’re safe. He can’t hurt you.”
I gripped him, letting the feel of his lips on my forehead and his sturdy arms surrounding me keep me grounded. My mind struggled to catch up with what the last few minutes had brought. Every time I blinked, I saw Horace’s slit throat, Alaric’s dead eyes, my father’s spell, the knife at my ribs, the crack of Callum’s neck as it twisted on itself.
Looking over, I glimpsed Horace supporting Lark, who limped toward us on an injured leg; a haggard Rissa and Nox; and Arowyn, who leaned against a tree, arms wrapped around her midsection. Inoticed distantly that the cyclone had stopped and the forest was now silent.
“The—the portal back to the capital,” Lark started, panting slightly. “It’s through the entrance to the tunnels. The same one that led us here. It should take us to the palace.”
“There’s still one extra person.” Arowyn strode into the clearing. “Seven. The architect said only six can get through.”
Lark nodded. “I know, but there may be a way around that. When we set up the enchantment, it was under the assumption that it would be six magical beings—the six challengers. I think if someone tried to pass through thatdidn’tcarry magic, the spell wouldn’t count them.” She gestured to Arowyn, whose magic had been temporarily depleted when Horace threw the poisonous water over her.
“Youthink?” Arowyn asked skeptically.
“That’s the best I can offer. Would you rather be the one to kill one of us?” Lark challenged. Arowyn held her stare, her jaw clenching, then looked down. “That’s what I thought. Technically, only six of us bear magic at the moment. We should all be able to get through.”
“What about them?” Nox asked, pointing to the three dead bodies littering the clearing.
Lark’s face fell as she took them in. I wondered if she felt responsible, in a way—this was partiallyhertournament, no matter how many of the strings Gayl was pulling in the background. “We’ll come back for them.I’llcome back for them. Once the rest of you are safe.”
She led us across the clearing to the entrance of the underground tunnel system. The terrain became rockier and more uneven as we neared, the ground sloping downward before opening to a wide separation in the earth, tall enough for a person to pass through.
I should have felt relief. Elation, even, knowing the trial was over and we were getting off the island. But I felt…numb. The adrenaline from the last twenty-four hours was fading, leaving me empty. I didn’t know how to process what had happened. How to go back to normal life in the palace or Feywood.
Ragnar had been right all those weeks ago. Death wasn’t the only outcome for this tournament. These trials, what each of us had been forced to do…they left a permanent mark. One I wasn’t sure I was ready to face yet.
“How do we know this won’t take us back to the tunnels?” Arowyn asked, looking at Lark as she stood before the dark entrance.
“Once all challengers passed through the first time, the enchantment should have changed course. It leads to the palace now,” Lark explained. “Horace, would you like to do us the honor?” she asked, motioning to the burly guard. He grunted and gave a stiff nod before stepping into the portal and disappearing from sight in a faint shimmer.
The remaining six of us stood in silence. Birds whistled through the trees, creatures of the forest returning in the absence of the storm. The peace and brightness of the world around us contrasted with the death and destruction of the clearing.
When nothing happened, Arowyn followed after Horace. The Strider shot a look I couldn’t decipher at Nox and me before crossing over.
