I slunk back through the hole in the fence, not wanting to bother with the guards at the front gates,and followed the map on the back of the letter to the Hall of Binding. I passed men on horseback and many carriages with Elites in nice dress, but also servants too. I got a few dirty looks, but no one stopped to ask me what I was doing here, so I pressed on. When I reached the hall, I took a moment to marvel at the tall golden spires and white stonework. It was a huge building, with a colosseum inside. It was where the Elites held all of their sporting events, and the famous wolf binding ceremony, which only happened once every five years during the Arcane Trials. For the short time of the trial, a wolfkin would magically bond themselves to an Elite and vow to keep them alive throughout the trial. Their reward for such service? An ancient, powerful weapon they could bring back to their own land, Fenmyr.
I’d been to Aerlyn plenty of times on field trips with school, or festival days, but I’d never seen a wolfkin. I heard they looked like a normal man or woman, only bigger, and that they had golden eyes. If you made them angry, they could shift into a wolf in the blink of an eye and rip your throat out.
As I made my way to the front door of the hall, I noticed a cluster of Watchers off to the right. They wore long black duster jackets and bore the golden mark of the House ofCaelthorn, who were known for their combat magic.
One of them snapped their head up at me as I passed and scowled.
“Dreg rat, what are you doing here?”
I swallowed hard, deciding to just own my confidence. “I was invited.” I peeled back my tattered shirt and bared the mark on my chest. Then I held up the note.
They all moved very quickly then. One moment I was standing there, and the next an invisible force knocked me to my knees as a golden band tied my arms behind my back, and then came around my throat.
I gasped and sputtered, trying to breathe as they stalked towards me, eventually looming over me.
“Where did you get that mark?” the tallest man with long black hair asked. His House of Caelthorn mark, a flaming sword, sat inside the triangle that designated him a magic user. Not that he needed such a designation, as the gold bands currently choking me were proof enough that he had magic.
I tried to speak but was unable.
“Unhand her!” a male voice boomed, and my gaze flicked to the doors that had just sprang open. A young man, about twenty years old with bright blond hair, and who was the spitting image of the Draven heir I met last night, strode towards us.
“Sir, we have captured a suspect in the murder of your brother,” one of the Watchers said.
His brother was the guy who sponsored me? That explained why they looked so much alike.
“Unhand her,” he growled again, but this time there was something dangerous in his voice. The magical binds holding me in place fell away at once as I crashed to the ground, gasping and sputtering for breath.
“My lord, she wears your brother’s sponsor mark. She must have been with him before he died.”
I kept my head bowed and said nothing, not wanting to be killed before I could even have a chance to compete in the trial.
“You think she tricked one of the most powerful Elites into giving her his invite?” the brother questioned.
“Well, no, obviously not, but… she could have… forced him?”
The guy laughed. “A magicless from the Dregs forced Regalis Draven to give her his mark?”
“Well, no, but…”
“Get up,” the lookalike told me calmly.
I glanced up at him quickly, afraid, but did as he asked. I kept my head bowed, careful not to touch anyone around me. I might bear this mark, but to them, I was still a Dreg rat.
“Did you see my brother last night between thehours of eight and nine at night?” the young lookalike asked me.
I knew it would be unwise to lie.
“Yes,” I said.
“Look at me when you speak, please,” he commanded, and I did, raising my chin to meet his.
His eyes were no longer blue. They were purple.
Magic?I realized then that he was using magic on me in some way.
“Yes,” I answered again.
“See!” the Watchers who surrounded us said, as if my mere admission to seeing the Elite meant I had killed him.
