Air bent to her will, and it was fucking incredible.
I’d thought Dorian’s abilities were amazing. But Rhiannon… I wondered if she could sweep us all away with a single movement of her hand, the way she’d flicked water at us in her chambers.
Now I understood what these fae meant when they spoke of their women harnessing nature most potently. And I understood why she wore the diadem and held the bramble scepter.
Queen.
Finally, the wind died down. Her hands lowered, and the throne room fell to silence, not by command, but because silence was all that remained. Rhiannon’s eyes moved over all of us, as though waiting for a challenge, for someone to speak up or step forward.
When no one did, she gave a single nod.
“Such is the trial set before you,” she said to us. “The Wild Hunt will claim the unworthy, and only those who are fit to carry on to the third and final trial may taste victory.”
She pointed the end of her thorny scepter toward the double doors. “Go now, and bring honor to our court. In life, and in death.”
All eighteen ofus passed down the central aisle, the weight of the court’s gaze pressing on our backs. Dorian and I hung behind the others, the last to approach the doors.
But when it was my turn, Dorian caught my arm. “Wait,” he whispered.
One by one the others pushed their way out the double doors, vanishing into the night. None spared us a glance.
By now I knew if Dorian was holding me back, he had good reason. “Why?”
“Because they’ll kill us.” His hand stayed on my arm. “The sooner we’re dead, the closer they are to victory.”
He meant the other fae. Of course—why pin your hopes on evading the hunters when you could take out the competition yourself? Starting with Dorian and his human.
“Surely they can’t kill us on citadel grounds.”
“No,” he said, and only then did he start steering us toward the stairs. “But they’ll be watching for the moment we cross that moat.”
“The hunt’s that way,” a man’s voice called out, and a few of the more brazen fae fell into laughter. “Or have you lost your good senses, thanks to your pettifey?”
“Silence,” Rhiannon said, her voice edged. “Lest I send you fools out as morsels for the wolves. There is no rule of law outside the citadel tonight.”
The laughing stopped. The stares did not.
As we ascended the stairs, Rhiannon’s eyes met Dorian’s. Her face was planes of hard edges, her eyes stony.
She gave him a nod. I had no idea what it meant. A sanction? A warning?
When we were out of the throne room, Dorian began jogging.
I caught up to him. “There’s no other way out of here, is there?”
“There’s always another way out.” He came to a flight of circular stairs and began ascending, two at a time, toward the area where we sparred. Where I’d seen him fighting a wraith on that first night.
We circled until we came out onto the high, enormous tree branch. By night I found it wholly foreign, like stepping into dark water. And yet Dorian strode onto it, nearly disappearing into the darkness.
It was a cloudy night. Such was our luck.
When I met him on the branch, he said, “We’re going to cross to the next tree. Are you afraid of heights?”
“No.” I stared into the nothingness of the night. Therewassomething I feared. “You told me I’d be killed if I strayed from the paths at night.” I met his eyes. “There’s something else out there besides this hunt.”
Dorian stared at me, his gaze flicking between mine. Then his jaw moved as if in resolution. “The wraiths,” he said, low. “They roam the forest. They attack anyone who isn’t of Sylvanwild.”
Ice spread through my belly. I heard it all again: metal on metal, the screams, the sounds of death. I wondered if I would ever be able to forget. “They’ll come for me.”
