Page 56 of A Court of Ash and Midnight
The course shifts again, and two fae appear next to me atop a section of stone wall. They must have been climbing over it when it blinked and reappeared next to me. One of them, a woman with long blue-black hair, lunges for me. I step backward to evade her attempt at a tackle, and as I do, my hand hitssomething. There’s an agonizing burning and a sound, which I realize is my flesh sizzling. With a scream, I yank my hand back and spin, realizing I’d almost stepped through one of the silver orbs. My hand had touched the edge of it.
Both fae are coming at me now, the woman having regained her footing, and the other having descended the wall in a more ordinary fashion. The woman has a long, curved dagger, and the man has some sort of blade like an axe, but with five notches around the perimeter like a star. I freeze, getting a firm grip on my dagger as they charge me. There’s no running this time, I’m going to have to stand and fight. The male fae lets out a battle cry, whirling his blade, his eyes feverish.
He reaches me a moment before the female fae. At the last moment, I duck and roll to the side, but he keeps going, falling against the orb as I had a moment ago. Except he hits it face-first with his whole body. It doesn’t burn him, though. He falls through it and disappears entirely. The woman pulls up as she sees the fate that befell her fellow fae, eyeing me warily for a moment before lunging in with her dagger. I’m quick, but not quick enough to avoid the sear of her blade, which opens a thin line along my ribs.
She dives in for another jab, aiming for my throat this time, and the field blinks.
Flameswhooshbetween us as one of the fire pits appears right where we’re standing. I leap backward and run, not waiting to see what my opponent is doing. The fog is creeping closer, only a dozen feet away now, and I’m not going to wait around to see if it’s poisonous or something else awful. I run toward the center of the course, my muscles burning as I pump my arms and legs, eyes on the biggest boulder, the only thing which doesn’t move in this damnable field. I’m about halfway across now.
That’s when I catch site of Toryn and a group of six other fae making their way forward. They’re craning their necks, lookingback and forth. Looking forme.I duck behind one of the smaller boulders, but I know it’s only a matter of time before he finds me. He’s clearly decided that the scepter is second in priority to taking me down. I can only hope that somehow, as we all come together near the middle of the field, there are enough fae more interested in winning the challenge than killing me. If they’ll fight amongst themselves, that’ll take all eyes off me.
But it’s a bigif.
The course shifts again, and the boulder hiding me from sight vanishes. A huge bank of fog appears next to me, and I have no choice but to run, putting me out in the open with no cover. There are champions approaching on both sides of me now as everyone begins to press in around the nucleus of the course. In the distance, the scepter catches the tiny bit of sun cutting down through the racing gray clouds, glittering in the dim light. There’s an ominous roll of thunder, and a drop of rain hits my cheek.
I keep running. All I have to do is survive this thing. The champions are all getting closer to the scepter, and that means the end is drawing near. I just need to hang on a little longer…
A human champion charges me, and I manage to avoid the dagger she hurls at my heart. Three fae are coming up on my right, and two more are ahead. That’s not even counting Toryn’s group ahead on the left, cutting their way around the circle only a few dozen feet away now. The central boulder looms right ahead, it’s shadow nearly upon us. I hear a low growl from the Queen’s nightmare, and then there’s a flash and everything shifts again.
One of the stone walls lands right behind me, so close it grazes my heels, and I fall forward onto my hands and knees. Rain is beginning to fall in earnest now, the wind whipping as if a hurricane is coming. For a moment, I almost consider playing dead, but the fog is creeping up behind me still. I climb to myfeet again, my body protesting. I have to keep going. I’ve made it this far. That same fight, that urge that has kept me going, kept me running, kept me alive all these years, drives me forward. I don’t know how to quit, even though I’d like nothing more.
Most of the champions, at least those that are still alive, have reached the open space around the largest boulder. An all-out melee breaks loose, people shoving each other out of the way, swords crossing, arrows drawn. A couple champions are already climbing their way up the side of the boulder. I skirt the edge, trying to stay unnoticed. That’s when I hear someone yell my name, and I turn to see Toryn and his group running straight at me.
I spin and dive into the deepest part of the fighting. It’s my only hope at this point. Lose them long enough in the crowd for someone to get that scepter. I hear more yelling, but at this point it’s impossible to distinguish the source: it could be any of the champions surrounding me, or the crowd beyond the circle, which seems to have reached a fever pitch as the challenge moves toward its final minutes.
But I don’t know if I have any minutes left.
As I weave and duck through the crowd, I glance over my shoulder. Toryn is closing in, only a few feet behind me. My head whips back around to the front, and I come face to face with Daemon, nearly colliding with him. My eyes widen in shock for a moment, and I open my mouth to say something, but he grabs my shoulders roughly and shoves me to the ground.
My head spins from the impact, and my vision goes dim. Blinking slowly, everything comes in fragments. Boots and legs all around me. Blades flashing in the air. Raindrops splashing down into the grass. Cloaks whirling past. Everything seems dark, as if night is coming, but I know that it’s only a couple hours past dawn. I must have hit my head harder than I thought…
“You’re next, traitor,” Toryn growls as he runs past Daemon.
“Where did she go?” one of the other fae asks.
They run past us, continuing around the base of the boulder. There’s a scream from above, and a body falls from the boulder, landing hard a few feet away. From my vantage point, I can see the lifeless eyes of the fae who fell, see the black blade protruding from her heart. A moment later, the crowd erupts into screams, and the Queen’s dragon lets out another loud growl.
The scepter has been claimed.
The first challenge has a winner.
Champions from each house lower their weapons and the obstacles on the field vanish, including the noxious fog. Everyone begins to dissipate, heading back toward the tents. The sky seems to lighten, even though the rain is still falling, and I can see the sun peeking through again. I shake my head. My vision seems to have fully returned. An intense wave of relief moves through me. I’malive.
Daemon is still standing over me, and I start to say thank you to him for not blowing my cover, but he turns and walks away without looking at me.
And even though I got through the challenge mostly unscathed, it feels like a blade just got driven through my heart.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Ispend the restof the day sleeping in my tent, grateful for Athar and his fae warriors, so I can worry less about being murdered. But a couple of hours before sunset, a guard stops by from my grandparents’ tent to bring me a gown for dinner.
“Dinner?” I echo when he hands me the wrapped package. I can’t imagine my grandparents wish to dine with me after the treatment I’ve received since arriving.
He shoots me a puzzled look. “Every night after a challenge, the champions and the members of the royal houses dine together to celebrate the winner. I’ll return in one hour to collect you.”
I thank him and retreat within my tent again. A dinner with all your enemies? All the people you’re plotting against and planning to kill? Seems particularly bloodthirsty and sadistic. But then, this is a tournament invented by the fae.
I set the package on my bed and unwrap it, and I am unsurprised to find a red dress within it. But it’s not the blood-red of the house emblem. It’s a deeper crimson color, with only a thin ribbon of House Harkyn red along the bodice. There’s a golden hawk sewn into the fabric over the heart. It’s the most luxurious thing I’ve ever touched, shadowing even the dress I’d worn to the ball at Shadow’s Keep.
