Page 71 of A Court of Ash and Midnight
We practice for only an hour, and I’m able to summon my magic fairly consistently, with perhaps a little improvement on my speed and force over yesterday’s practice. But will it be enough? I hadn’t incorporated time to rest in my two-day window before the challenge. Had I known how much using my magic would drain me, I might have asked for more time.
Of course, no amount of time is enough to prepare me to battle a fae, let alone a fae who hates me as much as Toryn does.
After practice, I make sure to eat another big meal. I’m not nearly as worn out as the day before, but I can tell I still need a nap.
“Sleep until close to the challenge,” Daemon says. “And don’t forget, I’ll be there tonight, cheering you on. Even if you can’t see me.”
A mirthless laugh escapes my lips. “You’ll be about the only one.”
“Just remember—one battle at a time. Show Toryn what you’re made of.”
“I will.”
“Promise?” Daemon’s eyes burn into mine with such intensity it makes my breath catch.
“I promise.”
“Good.” He gives me a final kiss, and then he turns and strides from the tent.
Sleep claims me, and it seems like only five minutes later when one of the guards opens the flap of the tent and rouses me.
“You have a visitor,” he says gruffly.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Irise groggily frommy sleep, wiping bleary eyes as someone ducks into my tent.
“Hello, cousin,” Cillian says.
“I’m trying to rest before the challenge,” I say with no small amount of crankiness.
“Well, it’s in an hour,” he responds, unperturbed. “And I brought you a small present.”
“An hour?” I groan. It seems only a few minutes have elapsed since I fell asleep. My body feels sore and my brain fuzzy, and I can only hope that it passes in the next hour.
“Yes, an hour. Finish getting dressed, and I’ll give you your gift.”
He steps outside and I pull my boots back on. I’m already wearing pants and a tunic, but I change into the form-fitting leather vest I’d worn in the first challenge. I pull my curls into a knot at the back of my head, and I slide my daggers back into myboots and my belt. When I join Cillian outside, he says, “You look lovely. You just need these.”
I open the wooden box in his outstretched hands. Two silver daggers lie within, sitting on a bed of black velvet. The hilts are inlaid with rubies and golden citrine jewels in a flame pattern that wraps upward. A small gasp escapes my lips. “These seem far too fancy to fight with.”
“I assure you they are made for exactly that purpose. Deadly indeed, like you.” He gestures for me to take the daggers. “Watch out for those blades, though… they have a little something extra.”
“Extra?”
“Just trust me,” he says. “And don’t go testing the edge with your finger, hmm?”
Carefully, I tuck the two daggers into slots in my vest along my ribcage. “Our dearest grandparents aren’t going to come bid me farewell before the challenge?” I ask sarcastically.
Cillian snorts. “They already have seats set up by the cliffs and are drinking sparkling wine while they wait for the entertainment. Kildari and Quelan are with them, anxiously awaiting the match as well, so they can see their spirited future wife fight to the death.”
A flare of heat moves through me at the sound of their names, and Cillian chuckles. “I figured that would do the trick. You need your anger tonight. Keep it close.”
“Oh, if those two are there, I certainly will,” I snarl.
“Need anything else before we go?”
“Yes, water.” I feel parched, like I haven’t had anything to drink in ages.
