I glanced down at our pendant. Charon was now in the room, with the throne, with Ember and me united. I squeezed her hand as if to prove the point.
Something should happen, shouldn’t it?
I choose not to be Themis’s Champion.I repeated the words in my head, even whispered them over and over, hoping something, anything, would happen. While I suspected that it was Ember who would need to make a choice or begin this final trial for us, I wouldn’t let her down. I’d be ready, doing my part as soon as allowed.
Nothing happened. The last piece of adamas in the pendant mocked me.
Then a shout drew my attention forward. Vaddon’s arm bled—a deep gash cut through the billowing sleeve of his tunic. The dark liquid mixed with the dark fabric. I couldn’t gauge its depth.
“You son of a bitch,” Vaddon hissed as he swallowed what could only be another dose of youngleaf. “All our plans wasted because you couldn’t sacrifice a useless heir?”
Elias, who had been slowly shifting from the throne as Father taunted me, seemed to release a breath. He must have known the conditions of Father’s ascent to Champion. They required a sacrifice. It seemed he hadn’t been so sure that our father would preserve his remaining heir.
The light of Father’s gemstone finally flickered out.
The change was immediate as the calming effects waned. Before, the Storm hadn’t been able to keep up with my father’s magic. They’d shoved youngleaf in their mouths and chewed, but as soon as the effects had worn off, the magic took holdagain. With Rodric’s calming influence finally dissuaded, both the guards and the Storm came to life.
Vaddon stalked from the dais, and I lost track of him as all hell broke loose.
It was as if the guards finally realized a dragon raged in their midst. Charon still caused a racket behind us, but he’d slowed his approach, likely discussing his next move with Ember. She stood beside me, but as the guards shook themselves free of Rodric’s stupor and charged forward, I pulled the pendant free and shoved it in her hand.
“Chaos, nothing’s happening. Take this and get to Charon.”
She didn’t hesitate, sprinting toward the back of the room. As much as I hated for us to be separated, I believed in Charon’s ability to defend her. Being here on the front line with me would only risk her using her adamas. I suspected we would need it soon enough.
With her departure, the throne’s whispered promises returned.
This could all be yours, Champion.
Just take a seat, Champion.
Your father never deserved it. He was handed everything he had. He never worked for expansion or change as you did.
You changed the fate of Kavios.
I shook my head as if to shake the words away. They echoed in my head. I couldn’t think, couldn’t hear anything else.
You could protect her if you took it.
This battle would end. She would no longer be in danger. Your enemies would fall at your feet.
Unfortunately, its arguments evolved as I did. When its original offers no longer suited, the throne picked new ones. I didn’t know what magic gave it insights into what drove me—what I desired—but it knew.
And it was making some damn good arguments. My foot slid forward as if to take what was right in front of me.
My hand still flared with the heat of Ember’s touch. I flexed it into a fist as if trying to hold on to something, like I gripped a physical representation of our connection. Magic thickened in the air, and I wondered if I’d somehow conjured it.
I clenched my teeth and shook my head again. This wasn’t what I wanted. It wasn’t whatwewanted.
We had other plans.
I focused on those plans—the future we wanted for Kavios—as the first guard to reach me swung hard. The blade slammed into my own with an intensity I hadn’t expected. I chanced a glance at the guard’s finger, and sure enough, his ring glowed red. Another piercing roar echoed in the room. Charon sounded like he was in pain, but I couldn’t spare a moment to check as the guard pressed forward with stolen anger.
I held my ground until the red glow of the adamas expired. As soon as it did, I plunged my sword into his chest. Though the Storm fought beside me, multiple guards engaged me as I attempted again to cut through their lines.
With a kick, I sent another guard back and stabbed my sword into the next. A third blade was headed for my arm. I winced in preparation for the strike, but it didn’t come.
A clash of steel rang on my left side. Alysa grumbled something about showy swordsmen before her ring glowed red and she stabbed the guard who had attacked me.
