She’d expected Magnus’s presence, of course, but to see them standing almost shoulder to shoulder… It hurt somehow. So much so that she wondered if he was standing there against hiswill. Especially when she noticed the Archmage, Gammen, on the King’s other side.
Magnus stood, and a hush spread over the crowd. Though she supposed it wasn’t much of a crowd anymore, seeing as there were fewer competitors left than guards.
He scanned the faces, stopping when he landed on her. An ugly, evil smirk stretched across his face. To her surprise, the locket warmed on her chest.
Slaide didn’t budge. Didn’t show any emotion whatsoever.
“Welcome, competitors, to the final leg of the tournament!” Magnus shouted, voice unnaturally loud. Leave it to the anti-magic King to use his own mages’ tricks to amplify his voice…
“The ten of you have proven yourselves worthy of being here, one way or another. Even if some of you have hung on by the skin of your teeth,” he continued. Laughter filled the void left when he stopped speaking.
Ten.She was one of only ten competitors left.
“So far, you’ve overcome two trials. One designed to test your stamina, dexterity, adaptability. The other was designed to challenge your mental fortitude and ability to withstand pressure. All of these attributes are things we look for—require, even—in our Raven Blade Knights. So to be considered as the Champion of Ravenhold, you must be all of those things and then some. Unfortunately for some of you, survival is no longer enough as of tonight.” He paused to look directly at Hazel.
“Tonight,” his voice boomed, “we have a special trial. One intended to test your willingness to do as you’re told without question. A trial that will test your undying allegiance to your King and kingdom. Because above all, you must swear your life to upholding our laws at any cost. Even if it means doing something that challenges you to your core.”
Hazel swallowed hard. Unnerved and uncomfortable, she looked to Slaide for comfort but received none. His eyes werewide, and his nostrils flared in that animalistic look he got when something deeply worried him.
Her heart raced beneath the heating locket. Something was wrong.
Somewhere across the courtyard, a door groaned on its hinges and the scraping of chains on stone could be heard. An almost rhythmic pattern of two marching footfalls followed by the scraping chain marked the approach of a group of people. But Hazel couldn’t see them over the crowd.
That was until the men around her parted, making room for the line of prisoners to file in.
Shock rattled her as a line of ten disheveled women were dragged before them, shackled and connected to one another by iron chains. They were bruised and bloody, with matted hair and rags for clothes.
As she connected their arrival with what Magnus had said during his announcement, Hazel fought the urge to falter. To run.
Moments later, Magnus confirmed her fears.
“Tonight, ladies and gentlemen, we’re killing witches.”
WHICH WITCH
Cheers rose around her, but Hazel wanted to slink into the shadows. To be forgotten about. Or at the very least, to wake up from this nightmare.
And didn’t they suspect her of being a witch as well? What did this mean for her? She had a bad feeling she’d find out all too soon.
The commotion died down as the crowd and competitors settled back in. She heard Magnus’s booming voice droning on and on about something, but she couldn’t hear him. Everything sounded too far away. Her head swam. She needed grounding, so she looked for Slaide.
But Slaide was no longer beside the King. He was nowhere to be seen.
For reasons she didn’t want to acknowledge, Slaide’s absence was what made the bottom drop out. She couldn’t do this. She had to get out…
Retreating backwards, she stepped on the foot of a brutish man, who growled and shoved her. Before she could catch herself, Hazel slammed into the back of another man, who turned to glower at her.
Murmurs rose in the crowd, men started to shift angrily, and the tension around them grew.
Hazel never thought she’d be grateful for the man’s voice, but it was Magnus’s next announcement that saved her.
And doomed her in one fell swoop.
“I’m sure each of you are chomping at the bit to slaughter one of these demon spawns yourselves. But there’s no need for this preemptive violence—I’ve brought a witch for each of you. I will, however, accept volunteers. Who would like to draw first blood?”
A few of the men before her stepped aside, clearly not wanting to draw attention to themselves. Someone toward the back hollered that he would do it. But Magnus ignored him.
Instead, his eyes trained on Hazel, who found herself wholly exposed after the two men in front of her stepped out of the way. He smiled.
