Page 82 of The Kingdom Cursed By Iron

I stare at the people around us, their eyes glinting down at us with interest. The king has said they all take this test. For the Seelie, court membership is based on your bloodline. Here, it seems, you must fight for your place. The question is, exactly how hard is the fight? I scan the pit. It’s walled around the base and there’s a gated doorway opposite the bottom steps. I assume someone, or something, comes through it and that’s the challenge you must face.

“No,” Ruskin says, so firmly it rings out across the cavern.

Murmurs of protest and disapproval rain down on us from the court, and Lisinder’s eyebrows bunch in anger once again. There’s a sad edge to his ire, though, I think. Almost like he’s disappointed in his nephew.

“You refuse the trial?” he asks.

“I will happily prove my worth to this court,” Ruskin says, his defiant expression empty of fear. “But Eleanor is not fae, and it is therefore unfair to expect her to take this test. No human has been held to this standard in the past. Why make an exception now?”

Lisinder stands, descending the dais so that he’s level with us.

“Because Eleanor Thorn is no ordinary human.”

I grimace, because I know what’s coming next. Ruskin must too, because I see a flash of worry in his eyes.

“I have heard how she used magic on your way here, how she defended herself against fully armed Unseelie. Do you deny it?” he asks me gruffly.

“No, I don’t,” I say, reminding everyone that I can speak for myself. Lisinder levels his serious stare at me. “I admit I have some power,” I continue, ignoring the sounds of surprise from the court. “And I used it to defend myself.”

Ruskin is looking at me like I’ve lost it. He probably wanted me to lie, but I don’t think that would get us anywhere here. The Unseelie don’t seem to like game playing like their Seelie counterparts. Lisinder has promised us an audience if we can pass his test. That seems reasonable enough by their standards. Not once has he threatened us, even vaguely, though his anger feels like warning enough not to mess with him.

I sense that the worst thing I could do in their eyes is lie about my own abilities. That would seem cowardly to them, I think.

Lisinder nods. “Anyone with power must show they know how to wield it. If you wish to remain in this court, Eleanor Thorn, you will take the trial.”

“I understand,” I say, even though my body is growing stiffer with fear each moment.

Ruskin grabs my arm. “No, Eleanor.” He pulls me in closer, his voice low so that we’re not overheard. “We’ll just leave. We’ll find another way.”

My heart aches at his concern for me, but this is hardly the first time I’ve had to put my life on the line in Faerie.

“We can’t waste any more time looking for new solutions,” I mutter. “This is what you’ve been training me for—to protect myself, right? I can do this.”

I don’t know if that’s true, but I need to start convincing myself that it is, and I might as well persuade Ruskin while I’m at it.

“Besides, if this is Unseelie tradition, what damage will it do for you to leave now?” I whisper. “They’ll either think you’re a coward or that you’re so arrogant that you think you’re too good to lower yourself to following their traditions. Neither one would be good for peace between the courts, right?”

Ruskin’s mask is slipping, his face a complex mix of emotions.

“You’re right,” he says.

“I know.”

“And I hate that you’re right.”

“I know,” I say again, and try to offer him an encouraging smile. It probably looks more than a little strained. He gives my arm a squeeze, then releases it so that I can turn to Lisinder.

“I will take the test,” I say and Lisinder gives a nod of approval, his face still stern as stone.

“But I’ll go first,” Ruskin clarifies, stepping in front of me. I suppose that this way I’ll at least get to see what I’m up against before I go charging in.

“Do you require anything before we begin?” Lisinder asks. “Food, water, or weaponry?”

Ruskin pulls his sword from its sheath. “No thank you, Your Majesty. I’d rather just begin.”

I think I detect a hint of approval on Lisinder’s face as he gestures to the pit below.

“Then descend, Nephew, and meet your test.”

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