Page 8 of Fae Champion

“Drop the vials,” I ordered Braque with a calm I was surprised I felt.

“I can’t. They’ll?—”

“Drop them.”

He tossed them softly so they landed on top of his bag at his feet. None of them broke. He sighed in relief despite the knife at his neck.

“How dare you?” The queen’s voice vibrated with a rage I felt to my very bones, Ivar once more bowed before her, giving her his power. “Release him at once.”

I didn’t even look her way. After another scan of the guards, and a skittish Azariah behind them, I glanced toward the dugout. Rush, along with Ryder, Link, Hiroshi, and Roan, lined the edge of the arena. Their expressions were somber, their fingers twitchy around their weapons belts. Roan leaned into the handle of his ax. They were considering interfering, that much was clear from their ready stances. But nothing told me whether they intended to help or stop me. The flare of passion Rush and I’d shared the previous night didn’t guarantee his loyalty. He hadn’t hidden his allegiance to the queen, nor the fact that he followed her orders when it came to me.

The five of them were probably waiting for her command to join the royal guard in taking me down—this time perhaps permanently. It wasn’t as if the king would lift a finger tointerfere.

“You shouldn’t have to live in constant fear of your queen’s cruelty,” I called out as loudly as I was capable, causing Braque to wince at the volume. “Her job should be to protect you.”

“Silence her,” the queen yelled.

The guards surged toward me but again hesitated as I pressed my blade against Braque’s pale skin and a bead of blood blossomed before slowly tracking downward.

“You stupid, imbecilic bitch,” Braque said.

The ear flew to hover a foot away from our faces.

“My queen will murder you for this,” he seethed. “She’ll make it endlessly painful and slow. You’ll beg her to kill you before you draw your last breath. And then she’ll kill everyone you’ve ever known. She’ll wipe out every single dragon in the Nightguard Mountains and build a new palace with their bones.”

“Guards, kill her,” the queen commanded, and a few lone voices among the spectators cried out in alarm.

One of the guards turned toward the balcony and yelled, “What of Braque?”

She gritted her teeth and growled. “Kill her or you’re next. No one betrays their queen and lives.”

Behind her, the king stood. But he said nothing to protect his daughter.

If I died, at least the queen would have no reason to kill anyone else to punish me. Her threats should end with me.

“Now!” the queen bellowed.

The guards rushed me.

I pulled Braque flush against my body and stomped hard on his bag and all his vials. Glass shattered beneath my boots, releasing tendril after tendril of colored mist.

“No,” Braque whispered after a ragged gasp. “What have you done?”

3.A TEMPEST WITH A ROAR AND BITE, AKA THE PIT OF DEVOURING

The alchemist’s potions crept toward him and me, murderous, encroaching vines that slunk and swayed, alarmingly seductive. Around my hold on the pudgy man, I felt myself leaning forward, drawing him closer with me, desiring to give in to the lure of the substances, whatever they were. A rainbow of mesmerizing mists danced like snakes, weaving around our legs.

Braque’s voice, usually either taunting or subservient, depending on whom he was addressing, was tight with panic. So rapidly that the sounds blurred together, he began chanting. I didn’t recognize any of the words, but I didn’t need to. Whatever he was doing, it wouldn’t benefit me.

I snapped out of the trance the potions were weaving and slapped a hand to his mouth. For a few moments he mumbled around my hand, but when that didn’t work well, he bit down on my fingers hardenough to draw blood before grinding his jaws back and forth in an attempt to dig down to the bone.

He was more frightened of the contents of his satchel than he was of the dagger I had pressed to his throat.

I sliced across his neck, from one ear to the other. Not enough to cause lethal levels of damage, but the sharp reminder of who had the upper hand served its purpose. He stopped gnawing on me and shut up.

For several strained beats of anticipation, nothing else happened. Even the crowd seemed to hold its collective breath as we all waited.

Just as I started to think the potions would do nothing, that they likely needed Braque’s interaction to activate, the earth beneath his bag trembled. At first, the motion was so subtle it might have been imagined. But before long, the ground shook hard enough to rattle my weapons, and I had to ease up on the blade against Braque’s throat to ensure I didn’t end him prematurely.

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