Page 19 of Hallowed Games

“What do you mean, only one survives?” Gwyneth asked sharply.

“This is her fault,” growled the bald man.

Gwyneth’s eyes looked wild with terror. “Surely all the innocent among us survive. That’s the purpose of a trial.”

“As I said.” Percival brushed some dust off the front of his robe, and I noticed his family sigil embroidered into the front of it. A dragon. “According to the Order, none of us are innocent. We are all Penitents. All guilty.”

He didn’t seem particularly scared. Maybe he expected to be the single one chosen.

As I hacked at the ropes binding me, I realized I recognized his name. De Montfort. His father had left blood-soaked fields and ravaged cities in his wake during the Harrowing. It was their family banner that gave rise to the phrase “raising the dragon” when no mercy was shown on the battlefield and prisoners were slaughtered.

Gwyneth smiled at me. “If there is only one, it shall be me. I serve the Archon. It’s my whole purpose for living. I don’t suppose it is yours.”

“I am the Archon’s humble servant,” the bald man shouted.

Every now and then, the tip of the blade would nick the skin at my wrists, but I masked any reaction to it. “I fear the Archon, but no, serving him isn’t my reason for being.”

“Heathen,” Gwyneth whispered.

The rough rope chafed my skin as I worked away at it. “Some philosophers say that we are driven by pleasure, others say we’re compelled by power. I think we just need a purpose, but it doesn’t need to be the same for all of us. For you, it’s serving the Archon, but not for me. The Order tells us he loves us, except I’ve only felt his wrath. For me, the Archon is terror.”

My purpose was to keep Leo safe and happy. In the darkness of Merthyn, I lived to help him see the beauty in the world—the warmth of sunshine on his skin, the rushing sound of water over stones, the perfumed triumph of spring over winter. The Archon scared me, but I didn’t love him.

So right now, all I could think about was that little boy waiting by that fishing bridge, terrified I’d never show up.

And the moment the final thread of my bindings snapped, I was ready to get to him.

With my wrists freed, I pulled off my gloves. The dark magic inside me was delighted that I was going to kill again.

I shifted closer to the cart, giving me a good amount of slack on the rope that bound my throat.

I glanced at the armored Luminarus walking next to me. He wore no helm, and the scars on his jaw suggested he’d seen a number of battles.

Still, magic scared the shit out of even the most hardened soldiers.

I stared at him and began chanting in a made-up language. “Irsira molu locci lira Nior montele beddu…”

He glared at me, gripping his sword. “You stop that. What’s she doing?” Panic broke in his voice.

I flared my eyes open wide. “Omini spiritu iddi libiri diritta hanno…”

Gwyneth shrieked by my side. “What is she saying?”

“Stop it!” the Luminarus barked. “She’s cursing me. You shall not curse me!”

“Serpenti!” I shouted the final word of my spell.

Just as he gripped his sword to swing for me, I dodged sharply backward, making the rope go taut.

His sword came down cleanly through the rope.

Exhilaration ripped through me. Free.

Screams erupted around me, and I leapt onto the empty cart itself. In the next heartbeat, I was on the back of the horse, behind the mounted soldier. I pushed my hand into his face. Shadows surged from my fingertips into him. As he fell, I reached down to rip his sword from his scabbard. I inched forward on the horse. Turning, I slashed the sword through the rope behind me.

I pulled the horse’s reins, and we took off through the cobbled streets. I was heading south again, back near Penore. Back to Leo.

CHAPTER 10

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