Marissa raised one eyebrow. “Theoretically? Mother, I must be sure.”
Mother.It was like I’d been punched in the gut. The psycho with the serrated teeth was Marissa’s mom. Fallon’s grandmother! That’s why she looked familiar. Bile rose up my throat as I fought for composure.
Amethyst gave Marissa a stern look. “Have you ever switched powers with another?”
Marissa swallowed hard, lowering her head. “No.”
Amethyst nodded. “I have. Dozens of times in my life. When the host dies, the powers return to the master. Though it’s never been done when the host is in the Realm of Rebirth and the master is topside.”
Host. Master.Those words made my skin crawl. As if Fallon were some parasite feeding on my magic.
Marissa nodded. “Very well. Let’s kill him already so my daughter can get her magic back. I need her at full strength.”
Amethyst nodded, reaching out to stroke Marissa’s cheek. “Yes, dear.”
Chills rushed up my arms at how casually they spoke of killing me. I didn’t like the way Marissa had spoken about Fallon and needing her at full strength.
Before I could tell Marissa to stay the hell away from Fallon, the dreaded fighting bell rang throughout the halls. Cheers and whoops of excitement filled the stone hallway. My fellow prisoners loved watching the fights. They loved seeing me get my butt whooped.
With a sigh, I allowed Maze to escort me to the main hall. I was kept away from the other prisoners, and all meals were brought to my room since I was the only one down here who needed to eat. Light knew where they were getting food from, but I’d gathered that they had to keep me alive unless I was killed during one of the tribunal fights.
Deep chants started as I stepped into the wide-open room. The ceiling and floor were made of stone, and the room was surrounded by iron bars at the sides, behind which were cells, each with a prisoner inside. In the center was the roped-off fighting ring. They’d pick random inmates to fight me. It was typical boxing-style rules: if you didn’t get up for a ten-secondcount, you were considered the loser, or you could tap out. But you could also “die” and fail, something they’d spoken about, but I wasn’t sure how that worked. How would one of these fae die if they were already dead? I had yet to kill one and find out. These rules all seemed to be within the Accords, something I prayed nightly I could get my hands on.
Marissa entered the fighting ring with Amethyst, and I swallowed hard, thinking about what she’d just said, how she wanted to kill me quickly so that Fallon could have her power back. I peered down at my palms and willed the purple undying fire to reveal itself, but there was nothing. When a giant fae, who stood a head taller than me and was much wider, stepped into the ring, I sighed. I’d come to terms with my eventual early death when I was five years old. As morbid as that sounded, it was true. Mavens died early. It was a curse we carried, the price to pay for saving so many lives. I was okay if today was my day to die, but I was not okay with being stuck here in this crap hole for eternity. I prayed to the Light that if my soul’s flame were to go out today, I would end up in the Realm of Eternity with my parents. But I would not go quietly; it wasn’t the Madden way.
Rolling out my neck, I gave myself a little pep talk.
I am the son of Arkin Madden, nephew of a reigning queen. If anyone can survive this,it’s me.
I shook out my palms, dipping under the ropes and praying to the Light that the most destructive of Fallon’s magic would empower me now. My aunt had said that Fallon turned a guard’s fae blade to ash. I needed that so I could use it on this guy’s head.
Marissa walked up to the edge of the ring and grinned at the giant fae before me. She gave him a nod, and the fight bell rang again, this time signaling the beginning of our match. I was told I had to fight for up to forty days before being granted the honor of rebirth. I was on day four or five. With multiple fights a day and sleeping at weird hours, I had lost count.
The giant beast of a fae rushed toward me, and I used my smaller stature and speed to duck and sidestep him. Despite me pivoting to the side, he used his long reach and crashed his fist into my jaw.
Pain exploded in my cheek and rage washed over me. I couldn’t take in a deep breath because of the aching in my ribs, and now I wasn’t going to be able to chew. Assuming I survived this.
“Kill him!” Marissa snapped at the fae.
I’d gotten the impression that, the past few days, they’d been toying with me, keeping me alive until they could reach a consensus on what to do with me. Maybe they had been waiting for Marissa to come or to find out what would happen to Fallon’s powers if I died. The conversation I’d heard earlier had clearly been them agreeing on a path forward, which meant me dying. When the giant fae swung again and hit me square in the ribs, I cried out in pain, the agony threatening to make me pass out. I wasn’t used to prolonged pain. Anytime I got hurt, I just healed myself. If I took on someone else’s pain in a healing, it was a short-lived thing. This was awful, days on end of throbbing, stinging, and aching. Being punched in my already-broken ribs was too much to bear. I had to make that bastard pay.
I snapped out with my foot, kicking him in the balls and dropping him to the ground. I wasn’t above fighting dirty. The crowd went wild at my cheap shot. They loved it—of course they did. I growled as I tried to suck in a breath but was met with more pain.
The fae looked up at me with murder in his eyes, and black shadows, like two ropes, extended from his palms as he stood—and that’s when true fear that I might die ran through me.
Oh fae.
I was really starting to get pissed off about my circumstances. I knew Fallon’s power worked off anger. I’d seen her go crazy atthe dance after Marissa had tried to kill me. I worked my whole life to contain my anger at the world—for having to grow up without parents, for having to die young, for being born into a duty and crown I never asked for. There was so much to be angry about. To be honest, I was scared to succumb to that rage, but I knew if I wanted to ignite Fallon’s powers and survive this, I’d have to let the beast out of its cage. No more alcohol to numb the pain, no more losing myself in my art—I had to finally allow myself to feel in order to embrace this dark magic. I could sense it, just under my skin, like the hum of the Gilded City gates. A live wire waiting to be touched.
As the fae before me cracked the black, whiplike ropes, my gaze flicked to Marissa.
“Marissa!” I bellowed. “Iwill be the one to kill you one day,” I vowed, and unleashed every homicidal thought I’d had for the woman since I was five years old and was told about my parents’ death. My aunt Solana had pointed to the portrait of my mom and dad holding Ayden and me, smiling down at us with pure joy. We were the light of their life, she had said. But someone took them early. Someone hateful and sick and jealous. Someone named Marissa Bane.
Marissa tipped her head back and laughed as if I were a small child having a tantrum just as the fae flicked his wrists in my direction, and that’s when I opened the floodgates.
Unbridled rage like I’d never felt before filled my body from head to toe like a searing fire, and I reached out and caught the tips of the black ropes before they could wrap about my neck. The pain barely registered, a dull ache on my palms, before an invisible power spread out of my fingertips and flared to life along the ropes, consuming them and turning them to ash.
The fae who held the black cords paled as the destructive magic came for him. He shook his palms, trying to dislodge the dark magic he’d conjured, but it was of no use. I watched partlyfascinated, partly horrified as the all-consuming magic began to eat at his fingertips.
