He isn’t your true enemy, a voice whispered in my head.Remember what you’re here for.
The mission. The curse. Saving my uncle.
That’s what mattered, even more than this tournament, more than the vicious threats of challengers. Callum was a bastard, but he didn’t deserve todiefor his tricks. This was my past breaking free, my grief and fear taking control.
I had to hold myself together.
“Finiscere,” I mumbled, taking my thistle leaf charm, and the flames immediately died. Turning my back on him, I strode to Colette. “Learn your lesson this time, Callum, and leave me alone.”
In my next breath, a slew of bats appeared from the forestbehind my mare, aiming straight at my head. Colette bucked and I screamed, barely keeping my feet from being trampled as I swatted at the bats.
My hands fell through them like they were smoke.More illusions. His magic was so incredibly powerful. IswearI could feel their leathery wings beating against my skin, their sharp claws digging into flesh.
The bats disappeared, only to be replaced by writhing snakes, twining themselves around Colette’s legs, then mine, slithering up our bodies without me feeling a thing. My mare’s frightened whinnies filled the air. One of the fake snakes hissed, its beady eyes locked on mine and forked tongue flicking wildly. A whimper tore from me.
It’s not real, it’s not real, it’s not real.
“Scared, Feywood?” Callum rasped, still on the ground, his clothes in tatters and smoke rising from his body.
“Why are you doing this?” I asked, hating the way my voice panted with fear.
He chuckled then coughed, ash spread across his arms as he gingerly got to his feet. “Don’t kid yourself. You’re not special—you should see what I did to the Lightbender.”
I shook my head. “You would save yourself a lot of time if you tried to find your own artifact instead of coming after the rest of us.”
“Who says I haven’t?” he asked sinisterly. But there wasn’t justoneof him. Suddenly, there were dozens of Callums closing in from all sides, that cocky laugh echoing tenfold. My eyes flitted to the left and right, unable to escape the multitude of raised eyebrows, glinting lip rings, dark eyes that spoke of hatred and victory and vengeance.
I inhaled sharply.Go for the eyes. That was how you weakened an Illusionist. But which one was the real him?
There was always a tell. I may not know his kind of power the way I knew my Alchemy, but all magic had a weak point, a way to determine reality from illusion. My eyes darted across each of hisfaces as they converged on me, scanning for anything off, any sign of?—
There.
The one to the far left, several steps back from the other versions of him. He was the only one limping—from when he’d fallen from his horse, I imagined.
I felt through my satchel of herbs until my fingers found blackthorn ash—not a particularly offensive herb, mostly used for silencing or in combination with other charms. But it could still do damage. In a burst of adrenaline, I lurched past the false Callums and straight to the real one.
And shoved the ash into his eyes.
The illusions vanished and Callum staggered, howling and clutching at his face.
I sprinted to Colette. The sound of crunching leaves followed me.Fates, I couldn’t get rid of him. When I glanced back, he brandished a dagger, all cockiness wiped from his gaze. Instead, he wore vicious retribution.
No more tricks.
I reached into my pocket for the vial Rothy had given me. “Don’t get too close to that potion when you use it,”she’d said.
Sucking in a breath, I tossed it at Callum’s feet as he barreled after me, then stuck my foot in Colette’s stirrup and hoisted myself up.
Crunch. The vial broke.
“Feywood! What the?—”
Success blazed through me as I gripped Colette’s reins, turning to find Callum pounding his fists against thin air, as if there was an invisible barrier blocking him. He couldn’t take a single step in any direction.
Rothy, you little genius.
“See you in the second trial, Callum,” I said with a smirk.
