Page 38 of Crowning of the Sword

She called Rufus to her and gave him a cuddle before handing him to the maid. “I need you to find him a new home. Somewhere safe.”

Tears pricked her eyes, but she blinked them back. The grief she felt now would be minor compared to what she would feel if Cole were to injure or kill him.

Mira took the puppy without question and left the room for a few minutes. She returned empty-handed and when Ember glanced at the corner Rufus preferred, all his things, his basket, his toys, his blanket, were gone too.

She left the room in the company of her new maid and twenty guards, flanked around her with drawn swords. The fae servants in the hallways didn’t just move aside, they fairly threw themselves against the wall as she passed, their foreheads pressed against the wood panelling, eyes closed as though they were little children playing hide and seek, hoping that if they couldn’t see you, you couldn’t see them.

The news of Cole’s little performance the night before must have travelled, and she desperately wanted to reach out to one of them, to tell them about Lily and to ask if they could let her family know that she hadn’t suffered, that she had just vanished, like a flash of lightning consumed by the night, but the guards didn’t slow and she didn’t want to get anyone into trouble. So, she just walked on, head held high under the unfamiliar weight of the tiara, wishing the day were already over and she could crawl back into her bed.

They moved in procession outside and into the grounds, and then down a winding path. Cheers and shouts came floating on the breeze, which grew louder and louder, and then they came out of the trees and onto an open flat piece of ground overlooking a deep basin.

Pavilions were arrayed along the lip, all crowded with fae. Ember recognised the water sprites, centaurs, and fairies, but there were many more, some with elongated eyes and scales, others with long tails and pointed ears on top of their heads. At the very front was an empty platform.

The guards led her toward a large white pavilion, and as she came closer, Cole emerged, his hands outstretched, a warm smile on his face. “Darling!” He kissed her, one cheek and then the other, and she closed her eyes as his familiar scent washed over her. She felt the familiar stirring of her automatic response to his presence, but it faded quickly, and she was left with nothing but a bitter taste in her mouth. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

So that was how he was going to play it? As though nothing had happened at all? Well, she could do that too. She forced a smile, a loving, bright smile, hoping it showed in her eyes, as well as her mouth. “I thank you for the tiara. It’s beautiful.”

“As are you. Something special for the big day. The greatest of days!”

The fae near him whooped and cheered, and he raised her hand in a celebratory wave. Ember smiled at everyone and tried not to let her lips tremble with the effort.

The guards fell back as Cole drew her into the pavilion, the territory of the Swords, it seemed. All Cole’s teammates were there, and she was grateful when Broude squeezed her hand with a glance that said he knew exactly what had happened and felt sorry for it. Lissa was remote and perfunctory in her greetings, but there was a gentleness there too, which surprised Ember. She told Lissa sincerely that she looked very beautiful in her gown of green and silver, and Lissa graciously inclined her head.

A glass of wine was placed in Ember’s hand, and she drank deeply, hoping that the alcohol would fog her mind and make this day somewhat more bearable. Cole escorted her to a chair next to some other female fae before leaving to be with his team. The fae didn’t exclude her as they normally would, but made an effort to be polite, drawing her into harmless conversation about the wine, the sweets, and the fashions being worn by visiting fae from other kingdoms thronging about the other pavilions. She wondered if there had been some shift in her status, and if her importance had increased in their eyes, or were they just being nice to her because they knew her time was nearly up?

The pavilion next to theirs was their darker twin, and from under her lashes, she saw one of Ashe’s teammates, a winged fae who would be challenging Broude in his tournament. She hastily looked away, not wanting Cole to notice that she had even glanced in their direction and caught Lissa staring at her. Ember raised her glass in a mock ‘cheers’, and Lissa turned away. Her dress was backless and the welts on her back were healing slowly. Clearly, she hadn’t used any magical ointments. Perhaps she wanted everyone to see what Cole had done to her. Perhaps she was proud of the marks. Or maybe Cole hadn’t allowed her, as a warning to all his court that Cole was at the head and everyone else was his to do with as he pleased.

Ember drained her glass and beckoned a servant for another.

The laughter and chatter abruptly died, and she glanced around to find the cause. It was the Adjudicator, flanked by his jurors, making his way to the very lip of the Basin. The red of their robes stood out like a warning. As he stepped up onto the platform, everyone rose to their feet and Ember followed suit.

The Adjudicator waved a hand, and the flaming tree emerged from the ground behind him, first as a glowing seedling and then a plant proper, and then as the many-branched tree of fire. The pendant glittered from the tree trunk, shadows flitting across the surface. This couldn’t be the actual tree, she thought. There was no crackling or hissing, and the Adjudicator didn’t look remotely bothered by the heat. As she squinted at it, it flickered like an old TV screen, showing that it was indeed just a glamour, an illusion. The real thing still stood in its place in the castle.

The Adjudicator’s voice rang out, unneedful of amplifiers or microphones, a croaking rasp that set Ember’s teeth on edge. “The tournament has begun. Three games will determine the winner, and the Sword shall rule with the Blade sheathed at his side.”

He beckoned and Cole moved through the crowd, his expression calm and confident. From the other pavilion Ashe emerged, clad in his familiar black, his dark eyes fixed straight ahead. They were both of a similar height, they both walked with their bearing erect and their heads held high. But while Cole tossed smiles left and right to the approving hum of the crowd, Ashe was focused, resolute, ignoring everyone.

They climbed the platform at opposite ends and positioned themselves on either side of the Adjudicator.

“Do you accept the will of the kingdoms?”

“I do,” they answered in unison.

“Do you accept the decision of the Adjudicator?”

“I do,” they replied, and Ember wondered what would happen if either had said they wouldn’t. The Adjudicator didn’t look the type to appreciate dissent.

Cole was watching the crowd with a supercilious smile on his face, but Ashe … Ashe was looking directly at her. He held her gaze for only a moment, but that moment felt like a long, long time. His eyes were dark and luminous, and they held a question— did he hurt you? Her unspoken denial didn’t appear to satisfy him, and his eyes narrowed. In that instant, Ember felt both comfort—and fear. If Cole won, she’d have lost the only person in this place who was even vaguely on her side. If Cole won, she was lost forever.

“Then let the tournament begin.” The Adjudicator took a step back and held his hands high. The tree blazed bright, and the fae roared their approval. And quick as thought, Cole drew a dagger from his sleeve. His arm lashed out in a roundhouse swing, and he stabbed Ashe in the chest.

Chapter 32

Everyone in the pavilion erupted into cheers as Ashe staggered back, his hand at the hilt of Cole’s dagger. He looked at it as though he couldn’t believe it, and shook his head, plucking the blade out from his ribs and tossing it aside.

There were hisses and boos from Ashe’s pavilion and the Adjudicator smiled, a creepy thin-lipped smile that showed broken, yellow teeth. He raised his hands in surrender as if he couldn’t possibly intervene and stepped down off the platform. His entourage of jurors closed around him and whisked him away to a blood-red pavilion further along. The tree disappeared. A team of fae dressed in charcoal escorted Ashe away. They cast unfriendly looks and made threatening gestures at Cole’s team, who were practically skipping, so jubilant were they at getting in a hit. Guards closed in around their pavilion, as with all the pavilions, the facade of civility gone.

“Well done!” cried Lissa, clapping her hands. Ember glared at her. Now that the tournament had begun, it was clear that the rule about lives being sacrosanct was well and truly over. She couldn’t see Ashe for the guards in the way, but she had seen the way his fingers had come away from his side, stained with blood, the look of pain on his face.

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