Page 35 of The Shadow Heir

“Each training session will give you a small taste of what is to come. However, we’re not allowed to tell you what the trial will be.” He glanced at his friend, who snickered. “But we do want to make sure that you’re as prepared as you can be, because we want you to, well, die with flair,” he said, giving us a dramatic flick of his wrist. “And, so, we’ve designed these training sessions in a way that will enhance”—he made a grasping motion with his hand—“our experience of your death.”

My shoulders sagged, and I glanced at Ivy. Were they serious? A cool hand gripped my chin and jerked it forward. I hadn’t even heard the fae approach. The dark-haired one stared down at me, his eyes as sharp as knives. “You will listen, mortal, or I will visit you again tonight, and I’ll bring my friend Viro here.” I swallowed, picturing a knife and where I’d stick it.

He dropped my chin and stepped backward.

“Thank you, Erik,” the other fae, Viro, said. He had a long blond braid spiked through with what looked like dragon talons, and he took up the speech as though Erik had taken care of some bothersome child.

“It would serve you well in the coming trial if you were, let’s say, fast,” the blond fae continued. “So today we have designed the training to help you gain as much speed as you can.” His voice was strong and harsh, and it reminded me of a pumice stone scratching across my skin.

I glanced at the people beside me, ready for someone to tell me that this was a joke. Who could actually get faster in a week? If anything, if we sprinted every day, we would only be sore and tired and thus slower on the day of the trial—was that their game? But every face staring ahead looked deadly serious. The berry-red Ivy was wringing her hands, and Eudoria shot me an inscrutable look that might have been hatred or desperation. She wore a dress entirely composed of piano keys that clinked together at the smallest movement.

No one protested. No one said anything at all.

“Won’t running make us sore and tired come the day of the trial?” I blurted out.

Erik crossed his arms. “Not if you accept our help,” he said, lifting a hand to examine his fingernails. “We are nothing but gracious hosts to those who bring us the entertainment we crave. You may have anything at all that you desire, including elixirs toease sore muscles. You need only ask.” He flashed me a wicked smile.

I sneered back at him.

Viro added, “We will leave you here for a little while, and when we return, we hope that you are all a little bit faster than you were when you woke up this morning.” His words took on a sinister air. “We’ll be watching from up there.” He pointed to the stands.

When I glanced up, I noticed several others had gathered to watch us. “You really have nothing better to do than to watch us run around in circles?”

“Oh.” His lips curled as he smiled at me. “This is so much more than running around in circles. Enjoy.” He and the other fae pranced off toward the stands.

Instantly, everyone around me tensed and tossed nervous glances at the entrances to the arena floor set into the mountainside beneath the stands. I hadn’t noticed these gated tunnels until now, and I couldn’t shake the memory of the creatures from the cages in the dining cavern. My flamenco shoes were useless in this deep sand, so I kicked them off. Ivy followed suit, but the rest decided to keep their shoes on. This little bowl in the mountainside seemed mostly protected from the frigid breeze that blasted the stone stairs above. A flag emblazoned with a half-moon sigil on a purple background snapped angrily in the wind high above the sand.

Ivy sidled up to me, her small frame taller and thinner than mine. Her shoulders were hunched and her arms clutched across her middle as she walked. She had curly brown hair like mine, but unlike mine, her curls kept their shape and bounced as she shuffled forward in the sand.

“These things only last until the sun hits the arena floor,” she said, shaking slightly as she watched the grates covering thetunnels. “Then the fae all burrow back into their mountain to hide from the light.”

They hide from the light. I tucked that information away beside everything else I’d learned about the Shadow fae.

Then one of the gates slid open with a slow grinding sound and I sucked in a breath.

15

Zara

We all stared at the dark tunnel, and a second before I saw what emerged, Samuel slammed into me as he started to run, his face craned toward the tunnel entrance rather than watching where he was going.

I fell to the ground from the impact as two tigers raced into the arena. I scrambled to my feet as the other mortals scattered like disturbed ants. One tiger arced to the left, chasing down Adán, his dark suit a sharp contrast to the sandy arena. The other tiger shot straight for Eudoria in her black and white dress. The keys played a disturbing melody as she ran. Heart racing, I stood still and considered my options. Everyone was running, save for Ivy and me.

“They’re only chasing the ones who run,” I said, moving nothing but my eyes and lips as I tracked the movements of the tigers. The tiger took down Adán, who screamed like a girl. I clenched my eyes shut and looked away. The other tiger, distracted by the moving targets, changed direction to chase after Tomas. Ivy lurched forward, but I hissed at her, “Don’t move.”

Tomas put on speed. He outpaced Samuel, so the tiger took down the slower man instead. But the giant cat didn’t destroy Samuel; he sank his claws into him and moved on.

The balding man rolled on the ground, clearly in intense pain. The other tiger had abandoned the broad-shouldered Adán and was now stalking Eudoria. My heart was threatening to seize—it was beating so fast—but so far, the tigers hadn’t come for me or Ivy. I remained still, difficult as it was when I felt like prey.

A tomato hit the sand between Ivy and me and splattered. I glanced up at the stands. The fae were booing.

“Come on! You’re supposed to run!” They were shouting. “It’s no fun if you stand there! Run, little mortals, run!”

The blond-haired fae that had been in the arena with us was pointing and laughing at the man rolling on the ground in pain, blood streaming down his back. I couldn’t hate them any more than I hated them in that moment. Our death was their sport. Our pain was their thrill.

I picked up the remains of the flattened tomato and flung the juicy dripping contents back toward the stands. Only the smallest bit of tomato flopped uselessly onto the first bench in the stands. But the point was made. Several of the fae went silent, and the blond man stood, accepting something from Erik beside him. Then he curled his arm backward and launched something toward us. I was only aware that it was a plum right before it hit me in the nose.

I went down again, clutching my bleeding nose. I screamed in pain and anger at the purple plum in the sand beside me. The tiger turned his attention toward me. Cupping my bleeding nose with one hand, I stared down the tiger as I hopped to my feet. Sand poured off my dress and stuck to my sweaty skin.

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