For a moment Amaryllis seems paralysed, then she begins to run, a sea of nettles growing up in her wake, separating her from Fox. But it’s of little use. I watch as the vines coiled round the trunks of the trees begin to unwind themselves.
Fox allows Amaryllis to run until she’s almost reached the other side of the amphitheatre. Only then does he strike. His vines slither through the nettles, and Amaryllis shrieks as they find her, wrapping themselves round her wrists and ankles and dragging her back through her own small meadow of stinging plants. I grit my teeth at the pain in her cries, but I can’t tear my eyes away as the vines curl themselves back round the two trees, her body suspended in the air between them like a puppet dangling from its strings.
She’s in a bad way. Her hair is matted, her skin raw and bleeding. A thorn has lodged itself in her lip, which has burst, staining the front of her ripped tunic.
Fox stands below her, smiling pleasantly. ‘Have you got anything else for me?’
Amaryllis gapes down at him. I will her to admit defeat, but to my horror, she throws back her head and spits outa glob of blood and saliva. It lands on Fox’s boot. He peers at it then shakes his head condescendingly.
‘Well, that simply won’t do,’ he says, turning to the crowd. ‘Will it?’
He’s met by a deafening roar. Fox turns back to Amaryllis. I see the shock on her face as the vines round her arms and legs begin to grow taut, tighter and tighter until they’re stretching her limbs. There’s a sickeningpopas a bone is disconnected from its socket. Amaryllis screams. Fox is watching her, refusing to relent.
I stare at him, nauseated by this display of torture, yet unable to look away. And just for a split second, so brief that I’m not even sure if it really happens, he glances back at me.
The vines release Amaryllis and she falls to the ground in a heap, unconscious.
Fox turns towards the Crowned Council and bows low as his victory is announced above the roaring crowd.
44
King.
The Earth Cleaver.
He’s going to beking.
It’s not like it wasn’t expected. The Imperial Court had him down to win from the moment he stepped out into that arena in the first trial. Yet not once did I fully stop and think about what this would actuallymean, and not just for the Terrathian, but for the empire. The most dangerous Etheri in the realm, who is already in possession of one of the three enchanted Eyes, now has a throne to call his own. Fox will rule the earth and control the knowledge and power of the past, and he will do it all with a crown on his head.
I remember what he said to me when we danced together.
I like winning.
‘Blaze,’ Spinner hisses, tugging at me impatiently. ‘We have to go.Now.’
Syla’s Eye sits against my breastbone, tucked safely underneath my tunic. I place my hand over it, pressing it hard into my skin.
Spinner yanks on my arm. ‘Blaze! Quickly! We need to get you out of here before they draw the next ring.’
But it’s too late. Hal is already holding his hand aloft, a small glint of gold just visible in the sunlight. Aunt Yvainne gets to her feet. The Ignitia Heirs are next.
Spinner and I both freeze, turning to face one another as Flint’s name is announced over the din, followed by Ember’s.
‘I’m not leaving,’ I tell my chaperone.
My heart beats in time with the drums as my brother emerges from the tunnel beneath the stands. His hand moves up to shield his face from the sun’s glare, but he quickly turns this motion into a wave. The crowd respond with enthusiasm, chanting his name over and over.
And then Ember is there, strutting into the centre of the amphitheatre. She comes to a stop in front of Flint and smiles sweetly.
I think about Grandmother. Today will transform everything. The outcome of this trial will change not just the future of the realm, but that of our House.
I glance at Aunt Yvainne, who is looking down at her niece and nephew with an odd expression on her face. I wonder if she’s thinking about my mother. Two Harglades battling for the Ignitia throne. Alator was right – history really has repeated itself.
The emperor has started speaking but I’m not listening to what he’s saying. My eyes are glued to my brother, who keeps shifting his weight from one foot to the other.
Please, I will him silently.You have to win.
Flint and Ember survey one another for a long time. I grip Spinner’s hand tightly as Ember suddenly sends a small arc of fire in Flint’s direction, which he easily deflects. He shoots one back at her and she sidesteps it neatly, stillsmiling. This begins a duel of sorts – a duel of fire. They appear to be sparring with one another, both flinging and blocking flames, which slowly start to increase in speed and ferocity.
