She stares at Darian and takes a step back, smoothing her robe. Then she smiles wide enough to show a bit of teeth. “I can’t wait. I’ll enjoy skinning you.”
Then she turns and walks back the way she came. I watch her as she goes back to her group, back to the team that terrifies all of us. Two Chained and a Burning One. An Undying, a Mage, and another Corpsebinder. Of all the groups, that one is the most capable of a war game.
Isola interrupts my thoughts as she whispers, “What did you do to Corentin to keep him from Returning?” She’s not asking if I stopped him from Returning. There’s no doubt based on the tone of her voice. She just wants to know how.
I take a deep breath and prepare to give her enough of what happened that night to satisfy her without revealing anything important. They’ve all questioned my strangeness already, but now that something new has come up, I need to give them more information.
“That night, when I found myself bound to a metal cross, I knew I was going to be tortured. Before anyone entered the room, I noticed there was a tiny flaw in the steel near where my hand was bound. I decided I would distract him long enough to cut the leather that held my hand to the metal.”
Isola, along with everyone else on my team, hangs on my words. They’ve all wondered how I killed my torturer. “Corentin Maroux was very keen on watching my blood flow, but more than that, he was interested in drinking that blood. He took his time makinglittle cuts all over my most intimate parts, and then, disgustingly, licking the wounds.”
The memory of his lips on my skin makes my stomach turn. My group listens raptly as I continue, “The whole time he was focused on drinking my blood, I slowly slid my hand back and forth over the little shard of metal that rose above the rest of it. It took about thirty minutes of continuous work, but then the leather snapped. I drew my dagger and slit his throat as he tried to stand up. I made sure to stab him in the heart afterwards in case he could heal, if that makes any difference. After that, I waited around for the rest of the night. I don’t know what else there is to say. If he didn’t Return, then it probably has nothing to do with what I did unless stabbing him in the heart did it. Maybe Nyxthos was pissed at him for getting killed by a human in one of his trials?”
Isola frowns and looks at the ground in thought. “No, piercing the heart just ensures he dies. It doesn’t sound like you did anything unusual. Can I look at your dagger?”
I nod my head and draw a dagger from its sheath to offer her. She examines it, taps on the metal, and flicks the little mechanism on the hilt that will ignite any oil on it. “No sigils. No magic. This is just a blade made by a human.”
“It is. They’re nothing special except that they have little fire starters on the hilts so I can fight demons.”
Isola frowns even deeper, but it’s Jorren who speaks up. “There certainly are a lot of unanswerable questions that revolve around you. A human who can win fights against Godforged. A human who survived two trials that killed more than half of the Godforgedwho attempted them. A human who can somehow keep Godforged from Returning. Fiona, what is it you’re not telling us?”
I shrug. “How am I supposed to know? I grew up with humans other than the Priest that trained me after my parents were killed. I’ve stayed as far away from the gods as possible, and I obviously know very little about them. If it weren’t for Ainslee asking for volunteers to help save more humans from your armies, I’d still be in Selithar leading a relatively peaceful life.”
Jorren shakes his head, not at all happy with my response.
“Does it matter?” Elara asks. “Yes, we’ve all noticed that Fi’s the oddest human we’ve met, but right now we’re about to start the trial. Let’s not get sidetracked with questions we probably won’t get answers to.”
Isola and Jorren hesitate, but then they nod in agreement. “You’re right,” Jorren says. “We have to win this trial.”
That’s when, thankfully, Rhion and Ainslee appear in the crowd. With smiles on their faces, they glance from Darian to me and then to the rest of the team. Then Rhion hands Darian a burlap sack. “Everything you asked for,” he tells Darian. “What are you going to do with it all?”
Darian shrugs, but he’s grinning. “No idea. I’d rather have more cards to play in Khorra than fewer, though. This bag is just a different card than our friendly competitors are used to playing with.”
What is in the sack?
Rhion’s smiling, but he says nothing else about what he’d given Darian. “Are you ready?”
“Not really,” Darian snips. “Doubt that matters, though.”
Ainslee chuckles. “No, I don’t think it does.” She turns to me and smiles.
Her eyes suddenly shift toward her right where Lucine Reden, Rivena’s champion, steps out of the crowd. I won’t forget her face after she tried to force me from the competition after I killed Corentin. She only glances at me for a moment before moving to Elara.
Elara bows deeply to her champion. Lucine glances around at the rest of us before pulling Elara away from us to talk. It’s strange to think after this past month that we’re all still enemies. I need to remember that. Other than Darian, every other person on this team could try to murder me if they think they can still win the trial without me. Easier to do it now rather than later, especially with all the strangeness that surrounds me, which was just pointed out.
“Nyxthos is close,” Ainslee says softly. “Come on, let’s talk,” she whispers to Darian and me. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a man who’s obviously Rurik and Erik’s father pulling the Stormbringer prince aside. Jorren wanders away as if pulled by an invisible tether, and Isola is left all alone.
That’s when it clicks.Where is Erik?I follow Ainslee, but my eyes are wandering everywhere, trying to find the last member of our team. He was just supposed to be adjusting a piece of armor before he came downstairs, not rebuilding it from scratch. Where is he?
Ainslee looks pointedly at me, and I return the look. “The trials will be viewable by all the champions and nobility. I’m not entirely sure how we’ll be able to see it, but know that we will. Fiona, remember that when you…”
I nod to her, and there’s no attitude in my body language. She’s been nothing but helpful since I arrived in Dunloch. “I’ll be careful.”
Rhion follows that up with, “Be smart, too. We’ve been talking with the other champions, and most of them have people on multiple teams. They’ve all been training for battle almost exclusively. They’re going to act like they’d act in war. Whatever you do, don’t do that.”
Darian smiles at his brother-in-law. “Don’t worry about that. We’re ready to win this thing. Whatever it ends up being.”
Ainslee steps toward her brother, and she gives him a hug. It feels strange seeing her relax from the position of command and become a loving sister. “Be safe, Darian,” she says. “I don’t want to go a month without you. Do you hear me?”
