by Linsey Hall
That would mean leaving my sisters, though, and the idea made something tear inside me.
“Do you think this will start soon?” I asked, trying to distract myself from the horrible idea. That wouldn’t happen. I wouldn’t let it. I’d finally found them after so many years away, and nothing would make me let them go. I’d do whatever it took to win this thing, since it put me one step closer to becoming an official member of the Protectorate. Becoming an official member meant staying with my sisters. Forever.
Maximus looked at his watch and nodded. “The coordinator should be here any minute.”
I shifted from foot to foot on the cobblestones, grateful I wasn’t wearing heels. Honestly, as much as I liked the look of them, I’d probably fall on my ass.
Jude had explained that we were to meet a coordinator outside the back of the Théâtre Rouge. The front was bustling with supernaturals headed inside, ready for the show to start. The back was much quieter, a little street with old lamps shining golden light on the cobblestones. There were no other competitors here, and I wondered if they were inside. They’d had more time to prepare for this, after all.
The back door of the theatre opened, and a pale face peeked out. Small eyes and a pointed nose gave the figure a mousey appearance, but the brilliant golden hair and matching suit made him look like a cosmopolitan mouse, at least.
“Rowan Blackwood? Maximus Valerius?”
I stepped forward. “Yes.”
He scowled and gestured us forward. “Come, come, it’s about to start.”
I shared a glance with Maximus, then hurried up the stairs.
The man was a good head shorter than me and skinny as a lizard. He held open the door, still gesturing and vibrating with nervous energy. I didn’t point out that we weren’t late, even though he was acting like it. Whoever he was, this was clearly a big night for him.
“All the other contestants are here. The stage is set. The show is about to go on!” His bright eyes were as gold as his hair, and I wondered what species he was. In the darkness at the back of the theatre, I could hardly see anything.
“Come, come.” He led us down the darkened hall toward the low rumbling of a crowd. I could just make out the sound of an announcer’s voice, the rich tones booming through a sound system up ahead.
Honestly, it felt like we were walking toward a circus.
I leaned into Maximus. “This is much more of a show than I was expecting.”
“I’ve never seen it.” He frowned. “But I think we’re going to be monkeys on display.”
Monkeys on display? That had to be some old Roman expression.
Certain parts of the competition might have spectators watching, but there shouldn’t be many of those. I’d have to keep my dark magic under wraps during those bits, though. And I’d successfully locked it down tight, I reminded myself.
The golden lizard man—who hadn’t bothered to introduce himself, I realized—led us out onto the edge of a huge stage.
Bright golden light pooled on the wood floorboards, illuminating a skinny man dressed all in black. His top hat glittered with gems, the only color on his otherwise austere figure. His slick black hair flowed down his back, and he looked exactly like a snake oil salesman, as far as I was concerned. He even had a twirly villain mustache.
I glanced at the golden lizard man who was staring at the snake oil salesman with rapt attention. His gaze gleamed. “Isn’t he fabulous?”
I blinked. “Um, yes?”
A snicker from my left caught my ear, and I glanced over, catching sight of a tall woman with white hair and white eyes. Despite the hair color, she looked young. No older than me, but a good six inches taller. She had an identical twin, and the magic that rolled off of them smelled strongly of sandalwood and dusty old stone.
Were they competitors?
White-eyes glanced at me, then narrowed her gaze.
I just grinned widely at her.
Yep, she was probably the competition, and I was going to crush her.
“It’s time, ladies and gentlemen!” The snake oil salesman’s voice boomed louder. “Time to meet our contestants! Time for the magic and mayhem to start, for the games to begin!”
My attention snapped back to the show, and I turned to look. From the other side of the stage, two other pairs of contestants walked out. Two fae—a man and a woman—their glittery wings held aloft. Fae didn’t always keep their wings out, but here, it was part of the show. They were both slender and dark-skinned, their wings a brilliant blue that glittered underneath the bright stage lights. They, too, were dressed for battle—but nicely. Dark jeans were offset by flashy colored shirts, and magic sparkled around each of their hands.
The other pair was massive. Both men—one older and one younger—were nearly as big as Maximus. They had broad faces and scowls that could strip paint. From the earthy smell of their magic, they were both some kind of shifter. Their magic rolled across the stage, powerful and dangerous. An image of a wolf flickered over their forms. The beast snarled, white fangs gleaming.
I shivered. I’d never seen shifter magic like that. It was like a message—I’m dangerous as hell and I’m here to tear your throat out.
My skin crawled. All of them would be out to kill me.
Sure, Lavender wanted to throw heavy objects at my head and I jokingly called her my archnemesis, but we were still on the same team. Our angst was more competitive. This was deadly. These people were my enemies, and they’d strike to kill.
I glanced up at Maximus, whose brow was set in a serious line as he keenly observed our competitors. He was probably thinking the same thing, and I had a sudden flash of realization that this was what he would have looked like back in the day, when he’d been standing outside the gladiator ring.
I leaned into him. “Bring back memories?”
He nodded sharply. “And not good ones.” He tilted his head toward the wolves. “They’ve killed before. Many times. They want to kill again.”
“How can you tell?”
“It’s written all over their faces.” His frown deepened. “If there’s anything I’ve learned, it’s how to spot a killer.”
He’d had enough practice, at least, with over a thousand matches in the Colosseum in Rome. For what felt like the tenth time, I was grateful he’d proven himself in the fights and the slave revolution that followed. If he hadn’t done that, the Roman god Virtus never would have brought him forward in time and he’d still be stuck there, fighting to the death.
“Go! Go!” The hissing whisper broke through my thoughts. Then a hand shoved at my back, and I stumbled out onto the stage.
The lights blinded me, and I squinted, frozen to the spot. My heart seized and my muscles turned to stone.
Oh, hell.
Apparently, I had stage fright. Fan-freaking-tastic.
I hadn’t expected this.
Maximus’s large form appeared next to me, solid and real in the sea of lights. I reached for his hand and gripped it. He squeezed back, tethering me to the earth. I sucked in a deep breath and dragged myself back from the stupid fear.
Because it was stupid. I’d faced down truly deadly situations. This was nothing.
Not to mention, it would become truly deadly soon enough.
Together, we walked out onto the stage, joining the others. I could feel the stares of the crowd prickling across my skin, though I couldn’t see them. There had to be thousands, though. The theatre was huge.
“In a competition most dangerous and strange, our four teams will compete to find the Truth Teller!”
I focused on the snake oil salesman’s voice. I needed to hear this stuff. I needed to be ready.
“From all over the globe, they have come,” he boomed. “Our competitors will risk life and limb during a challenge most surreal. Monsters and mayhem will collide in the race of a lifetime. Not all will survive.”
My ears perked up at that. Not all will survive? That sounded pretty damned certain. This was supposed to ma
ybe be a death match. Not certainly.
The snake oil salesman turned to the fae. “From the Fae Academy of Lythosos, we have Jabari and Imani.”
The two fae stepped forward, their smiles blinding as their wings glittered a vibrant sapphire. They threw up their hands, and shimmering blue magic burst forth. Dozens of birds appeared in the brilliant clouds, darting through the air, beaks sharp and eyes bright.
I’d bet good money that those birds would peck my eyes out in a heartbeat. More than likely, they were a weapon.
The snake oil salesman gestured to the wolves next. “And from the Wolf Preparatory Academy at Glencarrough, we have Fergus and Ewan Boswell.”
The wolves’ magic surged, smelling so strongly of wet dog that I held my breath. A second later, they shifted into huge wolves, their coats gleaming and bright. They sprinted toward the edge of the stage, then leaped up onto a hanging platform and then jumped onto another. They ran so fast and jumped so high that even I was impressed, and I’d seen some mega badass shifters before.
It was almost like they were dogs doing tricks, but they were so powerful and fast that it was actually a bit terrifying.
The snake oil salesman turned to the pale white women who stood next to us. By far, they were the creepiest of the lot. “Our third competitors come from the Illusionist School of St. Petersburg! Natalia and Olga Ivanov!”
They stepped forward, their movements so graceful that they almost looked like they were floating. When they raised their hands, I had a horrible, sinking suspicion that they were also about to perform some cool trick with their magic.
Which meant that Maximus and I would have to do the same.
Except there was no water around here for me to control.
And my only other power was unleashing the darkness inside me and obliterating my foes. Which was not an option.
As the illusionists created a fantastical light show with prancing unicorns—over the top, if you asked me—I looked at Maximus, my eyes wide.
He caught my gaze and nodded, then murmured, “I’ll conjure, you control.”
Wait, what?
Then the announcer was shouting our names. My heart thundered so loudly that I almost couldn’t hear him announce the Protectorate Academy’s name. Oh fates, I couldn’t embarrass them by just standing still like a dummy.
Then Maximus’s magic flared, the scent of cedar and the taste of fine whiskey tethering me to the ground. In front of him, water appeared out of thin air.
I caught on immediately, thank fates, dragging my magic up from inside my soul and forcing it outward. Fates, this was difficult. I’d never used it so quickly, but I had to. If I didn’t get my act together—and fast—we’d be standing in a giant puddle on the national stage, looking like we’d wet ourselves.
The Toilet Girl who’d wet herself.
I couldn’t go down in history as that.
So I gave it my all, forcing the water upward, driving it into the air in a powerful stream. Sweat dripped down my back as I worked, straining. Maximus conjured more and more, and I gathered it up with my magic, forcing it to shoot around the room like a giant snake made of clear water.
I’d never done anything so intricate with my magic—I was more a smash-and-slam kinda girl—but we needed finesse for this. I had to live up to the unicorn light show. As I made the water zip around the room, I became more competent. I felt like there was a voice in my head, telling me what to do.
Was it the mysterious god who had given me this magic?
Most likely. That was how Dragon God powers worked, after all.
The idea that a god might be watching me—that one was helping me—made me shiver. But I never let up on the water. It was flowing in graceful swirls, dancing over the audience and never once dripping onto them. I created artwork in the air, dancing mermaids who looked a little weird but were recognizable, at least.
My muscles trembled with strain, and sweat dotted my skin. Damn, this was difficult.
As my grand finale, I spelled out Intermagic Games.
Then, with horror, I realized I had nowhere to put the water. It was too much to send down a nearby toilet. Frantic, I glanced around, looking for somewhere to dump hundreds of gallons. Not on the crowd. Fates knew we’d be the least popular team if I did that.
“To the right,” Maximus whispered.
I looked right, catching sight of the Menacing Menagerie, sitting in front of a large glass window that they had pushed open. All three of them were gesturing wildly to me.
My heroes.
I shot the water toward the window, and it zipped through, a clear snake that flowed out into the night air. If I focused hard enough, I could feel a large body of water nearby. The Seine. It had to be. I sent the water toward the large river that cut through the city and dumped it in, praying that I had good aim.
While I took care of that, the crowd’s applause died down and the show started up again. I winked at the Menacing Menagerie, then turned back to the announcer, still vibrating from the tension.
“They’ll set off on their adventure soon, going to lands uncharted,” he boomed. “They’ll follow clue after clue, and only the smartest and strongest will survive.”
There he went again, assuming some of us would bite it.
Well, it wouldn’t be us.
He spun to face the contestants. “Your goal on this first mission will be to find the ghost in the attic. He will give you your first clue.”
Ghost in the attic? What the heck did that mean? I didn’t have a chance to ask before he was spinning back to the audience.
“And for our viewing pleasure this year, we have something fantastic in store! Our technomages have been hard at work these last five years, working on an advancement that will allow us to follow every single second of the adventure.”
My attention snapped toward him. Every single second?
The announcer waved his hands, and tiny white lights zipped out from backstage, swirling around our heads like annoying gnats. “These wisps will follow our champions, providing us with a spectacular view throughout the entirety of the journey!”
He gestured to the wall behind us, and I turned, dread spreading through me like inky black fog.
Behind us, an image was projected at the back of the stage. It was all of us, standing beneath the bright lights.
Oh, crap.
This wasn’t good.
I’d been prepared to be on display some of the time. In years past, some of the competition was staged in arenas and covered by reporters. It would have been easier to hide that way.
This was another matter altogether. They would watch us every second.
Though the image that they displayed was a bit hazy and watery, there was no hiding the fact that it was us. If my magic went haywire, they’d all see it. And this was hosted by the Order of the Magica, the ones with the power to toss me in a cell in the Prison for Magical Miscreants.
I sucked in a deep breath.
Chill.
I’d gotten the dark magic under control. I’d known that when I’d chosen to do this. It was still within me, but it wasn’t bursting out anymore. I could keep it that way. I would be okay.
And if new magic shot to the surface, more gifts from the gods, I’d just have to hope that none of it was creepy or super dangerous. With my luck, they’d give me some kind of horrible death power. But I’d cross that bridge when I came to it.
The announcer was finishing his spiel, going on and on about the dangers and wonders to come. Tension vibrated across my skin as I waited.
Let’s just get started already!
I wanted to shout the words, but I bit them back. Crazy outbursts would not be good, no matter how anxious I was to get the hell out of here.
Then my wish was granted.
Smoke and lights exploded around me, glittery gray that blinded me. I lunged for Maximus, grabbing onto him just as the ether sucked us in, throwing us across space and spinning us toward the danger that the annou
ncer had promised.
4
The ether spat us out into the cold darkness. I stumbled, almost going to my knees on the soggy ground.
Yep, glad I wasn’t wearing heels.
In the distance, a wolf howled.
I shook my hair back from my face and spun around, taking in our location.
Maximus and I stood alone on a dark and lonely moor. The hills rose and fell in the distance, each of them topped with a cluster of granite stones. Moonlight shined into the shallow valleys, gleaming off rivers that cut between the hills. Wind whipped my hair back from my face, and I felt like a heroine from some gothic novel, out to wander the misty moors.
I shook my head.
No time for crazy fantasies. Because we were currently in a crazy fantasy. On the hill that had been directly behind us, a creepy old mansion rose tall. Lights glowed from within the house, but the whole thing was in incredible disrepair. Shutters hung loose, and the door was literally chained shut. We were over a hundred yards away, and I could still see the chain—that was how freaking big it was.
“That’s a haunted house if I’ve ever seen one,” I muttered.
Maximus chuckled low in his throat as he scanned our surroundings. “I don’t see our competitors.”
“One of them is howling.”
“I don’t think that’s a wolf. It’s slightly different. A hound of some sort.”
A memory flashed. “The Hound of the Baskervilles?”
“What’s that?”
I’d been reading a lot in my spare time, since I recently realized how much I missed books during my captivity. “A spectral hound that haunts Dartmoor. The fictional creation of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Sherlock Holmes is the hero.”
“It doesn’t sound so fictional now.”
“No.” And I wouldn’t be surprised if I found Rochester’s crazy wife in the attic of that house, though Jane Eyre had taken place on a different misty moor.
“If we’re looking for the ghost in the attic, I bet that’s the place.” I pointed toward the house that sat on the hill opposite ours. A shallow valley stretched between us and our target.
Maximus nodded.