Page 72 of A Court of Ash and Midnight
Cillian gestures to one of the guards, and within a few minutes, they’re back with a large silver pitcher of water and a goblet. I drink thirstily, which clears the last of the grogginessfrom my head. I do feel rested, but I’m still sore. Nothing new there, though.
I nod to Cillian and the guards, and we head toward the cliffside. The sun is beginning to fall toward the waves, turning them gold and pink. The wind seems still for once, only the faintest breeze coming in from the ocean. As we get closer to the cliffs, I can hear the excited swell of voices from the crowd. They’re all settling in for an evening treat, a show. As if two lives don’t hang on the line. Of course, they’re all probably thinking that only one does.Mine.
Heads begin to turn as we hit the back of the crowd, and they slowly part way for me to come through. The same zealousness I can hear in their voices glows in their eyes. Just about everyone here is hoping I go down, and this time, I can’t blend in with dozens of other tournament champions. It’s just me and Toryn in front of hundreds of eyes. All of them focused on me, and my downfall.
When I reach the space in the center of the crowd, Toryn is already there. He’s wearing a tight leather vest like I am, and leather pants, too. He has a small axe strapped to his side, as well as several daggers. His muscles ripple as he bounces on his heels, jabbing in and out with one of the daggers, warming up. As I step onto our battlefield, he falls still, and his eyes move to mine. I expect him to glare, or to spit in my direction, but the look he casts me is the same look he’d cast a cow sent to slaughter. Dispassionate. Detached. As if the outcome is already certain.
My eyes sweep the perimeter of the crowd, and I catch sight of my grandparents and their guests on the far side of the circle. I set my eyes on Kildari for a moment, and he makes a lewd kissing gesture. His brother elbows him, and they laugh. I can’t hear what they’re saying, but I know it’s something rude. Mygrandparents sit with great stoicism next to them, indifferent to their behavior. Good. I let it simmer inside me, biding my time.
Daemon’s family is not far from mine, and he sits there with them, his expression carefully neutral. I avoid his gaze, letting my eyes skim right past. Trianne glares at me, a heat I can feel even from this distance. Did she spill Daemon’s secret yet, or is she biding her time for the right moment? But as Daemon had said, one battle at a time. I have more than enough to focus on right here, right now, in this place at the edge of the world, where ocean meets sky.
I really hope I don’t die here tonight. Not by Toryn’s hand. Not beneath the watchful eye of all these fae who hate me just because I’m human.
“Make your peace, Embyr,” Toryn calls to me. “It’s time to go to whatever afterlife you believe in.”
I cock my head to the side. “I’m willing to bet it’s the same one you’ll go to.”
His nostrils flare, but I don’t wait for him to attack. I let the rage simmering inside rush up and out of me, and I hurl a ball of fire half the size of my body at Toryn.
The flames hit his upper body, sizzling along his leather vest and the ends of his golden hair. His eyes widen in shock, and there’s a collective gasp from the crowd. I feel a rush of triumph, but it’s short lived. Toryn summons a cyclone of wind around him and blows out the flames, and then he bellows in fury and charges right at me, axe in hand.
I dodge his initial onslaught, his anger making him sloppy. I know better than to let him get close to me. He’s stronger and more skilled up close. I’ll end up on the ground like all our sparring matches before, except this time, he’s not going to let me get back up. Toryn spins and faces me again, rolling his head left and right. I see him visibly tamp down his anger and focus, but this time his eyes have changed. He’s no longer looking at melike I’m not a threat. Every ounce of his attention is on me, his eyes boring into me. His golden hair is burned at the edges, and his vest is singed and blackened, half hanging off him. Even his skin looks red and seared in certain spots.
“I hope that vest wasn’t expensive,” I say with a smile, trying to distract him again.
But he just narrows his eyes, and then he hurls his axe at my head.
I duck to the side, feeling the metal graze my shoulder, a hot line of blood welling up there. I ignore the bite of pain, and I hurl another ball of fire at his head. This time he’s ready, though, and he easily sidesteps it, then charges me. In my panic, I throw both my hands up in front of me, a ball of flame in each. They merge together, and Toryn spins away from me to avoid running into them. He begins to circle, looking for an opening.
Focusing my energy into the fire, I widen the orbs of flame until they form almost a shield. Toryn lets out a growl of anger. I can see the fire reflected in his eyes from a few feet away, see the hatred there which he’s no longer hiding. Anger fuels us both, except mine is the key to my power, and his is his downfall. I don’t dare look off into the crowd, but I imagine what my would-be suitors are doing right now, imagining me as their bride, and I let my rage flare into the wall of flame before me, stretching it even wider.
Abruptly, Toryn changes tactics, lifting his arms over his head and summoning another funnel of wind. I have only a moment to brace myself before he sends it around me. It encircles me and closes in, suffocating me, buffeting me. Dirt and sand blow into my eyes so I can barely see. I can feel my flames weakening, the wind ripping at them. I try to step backward out of the cyclone, but it holds me tight, squeezing in closer and closer. My flames get smaller and smaller…
Toryn twist his hands to the side, flinging me to the ground within his cyclone, rolling me across the grass to put out the last of my fire. And then he’s on me before I have a chance to react.
I see the flash of his dagger in the setting sun as he lands on top of me. I pivot and it stabs into the ground right by my head. We roll across the grass, grappling for control. Toryn gets his hands around my throat and the sky goes instantly dark. I can hear the roar of the crowd in my ears, all of them chanting for my death. Cheers and whistles and calls offinish her!I claw at his hands on mine, but I can’t break his grip. He’s far stronger than me. He always has been.
“You should’ve made a better choice that night in the garden,” Toryn growls, low into my ear. “We could have been rolling around in the grass in a much different way.”
And just as the sky fades from view, I feel a rush of heat and of rage. Not just into my hands, or my eyes, but through my entire body. Flames spring up across my skin, down the entire length of my body, and Toryn jerks back with a cry of pain. Before he can roll off me entirely, my fingers find the jeweled dagger in my vest and I drive it up into his gut below the ribs. Toryn’s eyes go wide, and he falls backward. I roll over onto my stomach, my flames dissipated but my skin still glowing a pale orange, and then I push up onto my hands and knees, gasping, lungs heaving, as I try to get oxygen into them.
Silence falls over the crowd for a moment as everyone stares in shock. When I climb to my feet, there’s a sudden roar. I hear cries of dismay and of anger, but I hear cries of triumph and celebration as well. No one can believe that the pathetic little human beat the fae in a challenge. I look down at Toryn. He’s still alive, but his skin is ashen and his breathing shallow. For a moment, I consider if I should finish the job. Make certain he’s not breathing before I leave the field. I know he won’t stop coming for me, even after tonight.
I take a step toward him…
But even after everything he’s done, I can’t quite bring myself to take his life when he’s already practically unconscious. A moment later, several of his comrades run out and pick him up, glaring at me as they carry him off the field.
Iwon. I did it.
And with that thought rushing through my head, I stagger, my vision goes black, and I fall, darkness taking me.
When I blinkmy eyes open, I can see that I’m in my tent. My entire body hurts. I feel like I’ve been dead, a corpse who has awoken from a century of slumber.
My throat is so dry that it takes me several tries to make a sound, but when I finally call for help, one of the fae guards brings me water. I can see stars and night sky through the flap of the tent.
A minute later, Cillian ducks into the tent. “Embyr! Finally, you’re awake.”
“What do you mean, finally? How long have I been unconscious?”
