I try to grin, but it doesn’t quite make it past the tears yearning to roll down my cheeks. “Then let’s do this.”
Ainslee pulls the little mirror from her hip pouch and holds it out to Darian. “Remember what we talked about,” she says to him, and there’s not an ounce of laughter in her eyes this time. “And stay safe. I’ll follow you after I talk to Rhaskar.”
Darian nods to his twin and touches the mirror. Then he’s gone. I take a deep breath, and this time, Ainslee gives me a smile. “May Veris watch over you.” Then I touch the mirror and the room disappears.
Chapter 9
You were born with all the Great House bloodlines. You will grow to become the greatest warrior Nyth has ever seen, capable of mastering all four of the powers we gave to them: flame, shadow, earth, and steel. Your family will teach you to use them. Your mother will show you Earth, your father will teach Flames. King Rhion will help you master Steel, and Queen Echo will tutor you in Shadows. But first, you must learn to control your emotions, for they rule all our powers.
~Conversations between Inni and a very young Azric
Fiona
We appear in the entryway of the Keep of Shadows. It’s empty, though. Instead of the crowd of contestants that I’d seen two weeks ago, a massive swirling portal made of shadows floats where Finley had sat before. Rhion and Darian are looking at each other as if I’d interrupted their conversation. Before I can ask anything, Rhion says, “We have to get through to Braemarch, the capital city ofDunloch. We’re running a little late. Finley moved everything forward an hour.”
Rhion’s already running toward the portal. Darian and I follow. My stomach clenches as I step into the swirling shadows, and there’s that strange feeling of leaving Nyth before stepping into an entryway to a much different place. Instead of the snow-white quartz, the castle is made of black slate streaked with gray. A Mage in black robes stands beside the portal and says, “Welcome to Castle Lachlan. The festivities are occurring in the Great Hall, which is down that hallway.”
I stare under the hood of his robes and see a pale face and black eyes. Not an ounce of emotion leaves him as he looks at me. Darian takes my arm and drags me behind Rhion. “You need to stay unnoticed tonight. I’ll make sure people see me, so when we’re near each other, they don’t pay as much attention to you. Don’t sit in corners or try to hide, though. Just sit down at a table and if someone approaches you, try to be courteous. Let them talk. And whatever you do, don’t shout from the rooftops that you’re human.”
Then Rhion opens the door to the Great Hall of Castle Lachlan. It’s… not what I’d expected. At all. I’d thought that it’d be like when we were going to sign the list, with half the people in court garb. I’d expected to be the only one looking like I was ready for battle. I was wrong.
Everyone’s in fighting attire. They’re taking this seriously, and no one knows when the actual trials will take place. It shocks me to see all the different Godforged I’ll be facing. The Chained intheir plate, helmets hooked onto their belts. Corpsebinders with their Abominations walking beside them, strange amalgamations of human andotherbodies sewn together and given life with some kind of dark magic.
There are a handful of Marek’s Stormbringers, the humans who’ve moved away from the land and live under the Eastern Sea. Their skin has a strange bluish tint, and there’s not a touch of hair on their bodies save that on the top of their heads. They move with grace not even a dancer or Fae could match. Their chain armor is covered in scorch marks from the lightning they channel through their bodies.
“Quite the gathering,” Darian mutters. “All the champions are here. I bet the dragons are sitting on the walls.”
“Sidon will be here soon, so we’ll know then,” Rhion says. “Oh fantastic. Our favorite people are here, too.”
Who would be worse than the champions? I glance to where Rhion is looking, and a woman wearing an emerald choker with long brown hair stands beside a handsome man with jet black hair that hangs to his shoulders. Little flickers of flame cover his body, and shadows seem to crawl over the woman.
Both of their gazes turn to us, and they immediately break off the conversation they’d been having as they cross the Great Hall. “Darian, it’s been so long,” the woman says and immediately embraces Darian as if they’d been friends for forever. “And Rhion, it’s good to see another Conduit at a time like this.”
“My condolences,” Rhion says. “I know you and Echo were close.” He turns to the man and simply gives him a nod before saying, “Cole.”
“Rhion.” There’s a pause before Cole chuckles. “We’re all so damned courteous these days. Do you remember when a meeting like this would have ended with the two of us in a brawl?”
“I remember. Not my favorite centuries. I guess this last one has aged us all.”
That’s when I realize just who it is that I’m staring at. If that’s Cole, someone who’s known Rhion since before the war, then this woman must be Maeve. Maeve Arden, the ruiner of the world. The one who woke up the gods.
I can’t stop staring at her, and she seems to notice. “And who’s your friend?” she asks, looking pointedly at me. “Not exactly typical combat attire. No armor?”
I smile at her, but Darian steps in. “Ainslee was looking for volunteers in Selithar to compete in the trials on the offhand chance that I didn’t win. Fiona’s the only one who stepped up.”
“Daggers,” Maeve says, looking at the two blades at my waist. “Cole tried to teach me to use daggers because of my smaller stature when he was first training me. I never could get the hang of them. I’ve always been a little more drawn to a weapon that gives me a range advantage.”
The shadows at her feet swirl up and slowly form into a long midnight spear. “Spears have their uses,” I say. “But wooden hafts are a liability when you’re dealing with fire, and I’m not strong enough to use a pure steel spear.”
I consider looking at the Burning Ones who have congregated in a corner, but I can’t seem to take my eyes off the woman who’s done so much harm. How did Darian give her a hug? How could anyone here even consider talking to her? I’d thought I felt sick when I’d smelled the Corpsebinder, but hearing Maeve Arden act like we should be friends makes my stomach roll.
To think that after she ruined the world, she then gave birth to Lysara’s champion, Azric Cyrus. The Prince of Bones. He’s done more damage to this world than any other person in existence, save maybe his mother.
“Is Lee coming?” Maeve asks, turning away from the conversation.
Rhion runs his hand through his blonde hair. “She’s running a bit late, but she’ll be here soon. I believe that all the champions are required to be here.”
Maeve and Cole nod in unison. “That’s why Azric is here. He’s sulking like normal. How a thirty-year-old man can sulk as much as he does is beyond me. He refuses to talk to anyone other than the other champions. He just sits in that corner and watches everything. We raised him to be better than that.”
