Page 16 of Hallowed Games

A silver-haired Raven crossed to the Magister, whispering in his ear. I watched with frozen horror as the Magister drew his sword, then called out, “Baron Morvel Throckmore!”

Oh, Archon save us.

The crowd shifted away from the Baron. Only Lydia clung to his arm. “No! Not him. He’s innocent.”

The Baron pulled his arm from his daughter. “Get a hold of yourself, Lydia.” Standing tall, he climbed the platform.

He didn’t look scared. Unlike Agnes, he would never sacrifice himself. He’d kill half the people here before he risked his own throat. And I hoped to the Archon he would make it out of here alive because Leo’s life depended on it. But who would he accuse?

My mind whirled as I frantically tried to think of a way to save him, or to at least get Leo out of here.

The Magister towered over the Baron, dwarfing him. I’d never seen him look so small before.

The corner of the Magister’s mouth curled like he was enjoying himself. “Baron Morvel Throckmore, do you—”

“Wait!” Lydia screamed. “I have a name. I’ll give you a name if you give me my father.”

Time seemed to slow down, the wind whipping at her pale hair. Anselm turned to Lydia with an expression of horror. “Lydia, no.”

She raised her hand, and wild hysteria tinged her voice as she repeated, “I have a name.”

No.

My heart slammed against my ribs, and I leaned down, whispering to Leo, “If I say run, you disappear into the crowd. No questions. Get to the mossy bridge where we went fishing.”

“You said you’d stay with me,” he said, a little too loudly.

“No questions.”

The crowd started to shift away from Lydia, and furious whispers rippled out around us.

I reached for one of the many sheathed daggers in my cloak, and I handed it to him by the hilt. “Don’t use this unless you have to. I’ll meet you,” I said through gritted teeth.

Slowly, Lydia turned around to stare at me.

“Run.” I pushed Leo away from me. “Now.”

To my immense relief, he did as I’d told him, and he started to push his way through the crowd.

“No,” Anselm said again as he reached out to touch her arm. “Lydia, no.”

Leo disappeared into the crowd, and my chest unclenched. Please, Archon, let him escape.

“Not her,” the Baron said from the platform.

But Lydia wasn’t listening to her father right now. “Elowen Wrothmere.”

All eyes turned to me, and ice poured through my blood.

My fingers flexed as rage simmered.

Time seemed to slow down as the sea-swept wind rushed over me.

Lydia’s voice cracked as she pointed at me. “She kills with her touch. She’s Serpent-touched. She’s the worst of them all.”

CHAPTER 8

My blood roared in my ears, pounding so hot and loud, I could hardly think straight.

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