Page 52 of A Court of Ash and Midnight
Chapter Twenty-Four
The guards leadme back to the big tent. I’m relieved to see that my grandparents aren’t there; the tent is empty. I shoot the men questioning looks but they ignore me as we wait inside.
Footsteps passing outside the tent in a steady rhythm tell me that the other houses are gathering near the cliffs for whatever grand ceremony kicks off the tournament. I can only guess that my grandparents are waiting there to announce their champion. It still doesn’t quite make sense to me. Even if I did use to have control over my magic, control and memories I no longer possess, it’s an awfully big assumption that I’ll be skilled enough to beat fae from all the houses, or that I’ll go along with their plan to try to steal the throne from the Queen. Yes, the champions named by each house must compete, but that doesn’t mean I have to try to win.
Why would they think I’d support them and willingly go against the Queen when I’ve been on the run for eight years? Something just doesn’t add up.
An eternity seems to pass as I wait. I sneak a glance out of the tent when one of the guards looks out from behind the flap. The sun has almost vanished at this point, only a tinge of flame to the twilight outside. My heart beats erratically in my chest. I’m about to walk out in front of all those people. Will the Queen be there? I have to give my kin a little credit… the hubris it takes to invoke an ancient tournament and openly challenge the reigning monarch is impressive. Impressive or completely insane.
And then someone bustles through from outside, another guard, summoning us. My time is up.
One of the guards pulls the flap of the tent back and I step through. A massive crowd waits outside, lined up along that narrow strip of space down the center of the valley. A path, a walkway to the cliffs. Or to the gallows, as it were. Might as well be, because it cinches my fate. A low murmur susurrates over the crowd as I come into view. I am flanked by a guard on each side, one in front, and one behind. We turn and begin to walk toward the cliffs, the ocean, and the last glowing orb of the setting sun.
Beautiful eyes stare at me, gazes heavy as I pass between them. Eyes narrowed with hate. Eyes that radiate cold fury or blazing disgust. Someone even spits in my direction, and it lands just shy of my boots. My heart pounds louder than the waves hitting the cliffs. I keep my head high, but my expression neutral. They all think I chose this. I want to scream, to spill the truth to everyone watching. Judging. Plotting for my downfall.
It’s the longest walk of my life, even though it’s not more than a hundred feet. A few feet from the cliff’s edge, my grandparents stand between the two walls of people, surrounded by a dozen of their own guards. When I reach their side, they barely look at me. I am only a pawn in this sick game of theirs, this grab forpower. They can’t possibly believe this will end in their favor. Can they?
“Great houses of Aureon,” my grandmother calls, her voice carrying confidently and easily across the crowd. “House Harkyn has exercised its right, by ancient law, to invoke the tournament of Erys Lumena. The tournament begins once the sun sets, and each house has declared their champion. We will ask the tournament council to read the rules of the tournament for all to hear.”
A short, full-figured woman steps forward from the crowd. I can tell instantly that she is different from the others. She is not tall and beautiful like the fae, but she does not seem entirely human, either. I can tell from the aura of magic around her, and something in her features. Her eyes, her ears, her skin, everything seems slightly off. She looks old enough to have been there at the very first tournament… the fae certainly live for centuries, millennia even, so I suppose it’s possible. I expect her voice to be soft and wizened, but when she speaks, her voice carries clear and bell-like across the valley.
“Houses of Aureon, you have gathered atCorla ArnanVorto participate in the tournament of Erys Lumena. This tournament is bound by ancient magic, and therefore each of you who participate are bound by this ancient magic. You must abide by the rules which follow, or you will suffer dire consequences as a result of that magic.”
She pauses here, her sharp gaze sweeping the crowd, as if challenging someone to contradict her.
“As declared, House Harkyn has challenged each of you to battles both physical and magical. There will be four tournament challenges. The first challenge will take place tomorrow at dawn, in this same location. The nature of each challenge is at the discretion of the council, and will not be shared in advance.”
A slight murmur of dismay ripples across the crowd at this news, but I keep my eyes fixed on the woman before me.
“Every royal house in Aureon must participate when the Erys Lumena tournament is invoked, other than the ruling house being challenged. The ruling house will compete in a final test with the winner of the tournament. Champions are chosen for each house, as well as a second. These champions, both first and second, cannot withdraw, unless by death. The winner of the tournament must win three out of four contests, and then best the champion of the ruling house in the fifth challenge. The winner of the fifth and final challenge assumes control of the throne of Aureon.”
Silence falls, so thick that the waves sound like they’re crashing directly in my ears. It seems so archaic to let something as trivial as a tournament decide the fate of the whole world. How can this be happening? How did my human relatives find this loophole of ancient rules and magic that allows them to challenge the Queen for her throne?
“After the sun sets, each house will announce their champion and second. After each house has spoken, the tournament will have officially begun. Champions may challenge each other at any time. Champions can use any means necessary to complete a challenge. There are no prohibitions.”
The words spoken in the twilight tones of the valley hang ominously in the air.There are no prohibitions.That means any of the champions can attempt to kill me at any time, day or night, over the next few weeks. I feel a great heaviness settling in my bones, as if the earth itself is trying to claim me. How can I possibly survive? It’s a desperate question humming in my head, a panicked one. Because I already know the answer.
I can’t.
I’ll be lucky if I survive the night.
But I don’t have time to think on it further. Someone steps up behind me, linking their arm through mine and leading me to stand next to my grandparents. For a moment, I think it’s one of the guards, but when I glance over, I realize that this man is unfamiliar to me, and wearing garb too fine for the guards. He has light brown hair with a touch of auburn, and he looks around my age. He’s wearing a red cloak with gold embroidery just like mine.
“Who the hell are you?” I growl softly, my manners completely shot, along with my nerves.
He looks over at me and smiles. “Don’t recognize your own cousin? Come now, Embyr. We were engaged to be married once upon a time.”
I can’t hide the shock that rolls over my face. His smile broadens to a grin as I stare at him, flabbergasted.
“You…you’ve grown quite a bit,” I say, trying to keep my secret intact.
We’re interrupted as two warriors, a man and a woman, step forward to stand before us. They’re clearly fae, tall and pale and silver-haired with stunning eyes. “We are the champions for House Pentartha,” they say in unison, crossing one arm solemnly over their chest. The woman’s eyes burn hatefully into mine as they move out of the way, another pair of warriors in line behind them.
“Come now,” my cousin whispers, shooting me only a momentary side glance while looking out over the crowd. “I know you have amnesia. The riders talk to me, even if they don’t talk to our grandparents.”
“I’m dead anyways,” I say with a sullen shrug. “It doesn’t matter if they find out.”
His lips twitch up at the corners. “I didn’t say I was going to tell them. It’s more fun keeping secrets, don’t you think?”
