“Calder doesn’t want me to do it,” he replies, pulling his arm away. “But he doesn’t realize that Woodsbury would be better off with him in it than me. Mother always said that she wished I’d been born first that way she could have Calder. And my brother deserves the chance to get to know Grandfather before he passes on…”
“You cannot honestly believe that,” I say, my voice suddenly coming out stern. “Byron Coalbiter, no one will be better off without you.”
He looks over at me, surprised the wind picking up bits of his hair and blowing the stands across his cheekbones. I raise my hands, hesitating a second before I rest them on either side of his face, forcing him to look me in the eye. “Least of all me.”
His eyes brighten for a second but then dim with sadness. “I have to do this. It’s what I’ve worked my whole life toward. I’ve found a way to secure my brother’s freedom and a way out of my mother’s hastily made bargain. What sort of person would I be if I let my family down?” He lifts a single shoulder. “It won’t be all bad. I think I’d enjoy being a knight, besides you can’t honestly tell me that this is a bad fate when it’s what you’re striving toward as well.”
“I’m doing this of my own free volition,” I say. “You’re forcing yourself into a decision that should not be taken lightly.”
He reaches up, grasping my wrists gently. He pulls them away from his face, pressing a quick kiss to the insides of my wrists before giving me a wry smile that does not reach his eyes. “My mind is made up, but I’ve been thinking and I’m hoping that perhaps if I can convince Menavillion to take me then he will be giving up one of his guards. He wants two knight champions. I could put in a good word for you. We can both get what we want and be our own little part of Woodsbury all the way out in Skyshire.”
“I—Byron, I…”
“Please sayyes.” His eyes hold mine. “I need someone to support me in this. Please, Willow, I’ll find a way to get you your position as well and we can finally be allies instead of rivals.”
“But—” I begin. Before I can manage to make sense of my swirling thoughts, there is a screech from inside, followed by the sound of breaking glass. Byron and I break apart and share a worried glance, before we both race back into the banquet hall.
Chapter Twenty
Windtearsatmyhair, whipping through my skirts, sharp and cold like what would be found at the heart of a tempest. And yet we are inside now.
I hold my hand up, my eyes stinging as my hair whips into it, trying to figure out what is happening. Through the tears building up, I can see Marvin and the other knights hanging on to the table as food and small plates are whipped through the air in a circular motion.
Menavillion is on his knees, his head thrust back and his mouth hanging open. His eyes appear to have rolled back so that only the milky white of it shows, and he is shuddering while still oddly locked into place as if he is held there by some invisible barrier that is so tight that only the slightest of shivers can escape that invisible prison.
Istaria is facing him, her back towards us as she slowly backs up several steps. She is yelling. “I’m not goinganywherewith you!Nowhere, you hear!”She throws back her head and chuckles, looking truly unhinged.
She’s about to back right into us when suddenly a hand grasps my arm and yanks me to the side. I look over to see that Byron is being pulled aside as well. Calder has a hold of both of us, his golden armor looking closer to bronze in the darkness, and his hair whipping around his head. We’re dragged forward until we’re almost to the door when I dig in my heels. “What’s going on?” I call, struggling to be heard over the rushing wind.
“I’m doing what I have to in order to protect my family,” Calder replies, his tone cold as an ice bath.
Byron rips his hand out of Calder’s hold. “What have you done?” he demands.
“Nothing myself,” Calder says with a small smile. “But you wouldn’t listen to me, you wouldn’t accept the fact that I was a lost cause, and you were so stubbornly intent on taking my place like some sort of stupid sacrifice to the slaughter. I couldn’t stand idly by while Menavillion made your life a living horror. The man is a cruel and uncaring taskmaster. He had to be destroyed.”
“What did you do?” Byron demands, each word ringing out.
“Nothing!” Calder replies again, gleefully. “It was all Istaria. Oh, I played a role in convincing her to fall for me instead of her fiancé, we wrote to each other illicitly during her courtship of Menavillion, but she was bound to him and needed to be free. So, I happened to gift her with a book on dark magic. What she did with that… well, that was on her.”
“Dark magic?” I ask with a little shake of my head. “No, that curse was put on her by the…”
“Cultists? Yes, cultists hired by her to use the spell. She feigned a kidnapping so that she would be above suspicion when Menavillion eventually died, but she was doomed from the start. You see, Istaria didn’t understand dark magic very well, and she has no idea that this particular spell is too powerful now that it has locked on to Menavillion’s magic. As it drains him, it will become only more violent until it knocks this whole wretched academy out of the sky. Then there will no longer be a place for people to compete like horses in a race to catch the eye of any single fae lord.”
“Knock the…” I begin, my mind spinning. We’re too high up. If anyone falls from this height, they’ll die. “You’re mad! There are innocent people here.”
“Death is a better fate than a life in bondage.” Calder jerks his head toward the door. “Now come quickly, I have a dragon waiting. All three of us can escape to safety before Istaria’s spell destroys the academy. We can go back to Woodsbury and no one has to trade away their freedom.”
Byron is shaking his head, looking stunned, his mouth opening and closing as if he doesn’t know what to say. Honestly, I don’t know what to say either, but I doubt words will be enough to save this academy. I whirl as Byron starts yelling at Calder and look over the room. Marvin is being pelted by bits of ham. I glance past him to Menavillion who is trapped in the thralls of the curse.
Then my eyes turn to Istaria who is standing with her back to the balcony. Two thoughts strike me. Istaria’s curse can’t destroy the academy if she isn’t in it, nor would it have much of an affect if she is not near Menavillion who seems to be fueling her powers.
My feet are moving before I realize what is going on as I race forward, fighting against the gusts of wind, dragging myself forward by grasping stones between their mortar and gripping the panes of the windows before I finally reach Istaria. It feels as if a great force is trying to shove me back, but I wrap my arm around her and begin dragging her with me to the end of the balcony.
“What are you doing?” she screeches. “Unhand me!”
I grit my teeth as I tighten my hold. I send up a brief prayer to the Maker, hoping that despite his abandonment he will still accept my soul before I flip us both over the railing.
Behind me I hear Byron scream, “Willow, no!”
