He hesitated but laced his fingers through mine and lifted my hands to his lips. Too brief. “Be careful tomorrow. Please.”
I nodded and didn’t drop his hand until he was out of reach. When he was gone, I whipped to Raeth. “You couldn’t stand not to interrupt, could you?”
He’d begun pacing, both hands laced into his hair. No hint of hostility but a restless kind of stress that took me off guard. “This could not have been a worse development.”
“I’ll be fine.” It surprised me how easily the lie slipped out.
“No, you won’t, Hania. The Trials are meant for born warriors. People raised with the training to survive them. You may have had some incredible luck since you’ve come here, but it won’t get you through them.”
“I know I’m not one of you. I wasn’t taught how to fight and I don’t have magic. I know that. But I’m not a helpless little girl.”
He paused and looked at me, searching my face, and then nodded with a heavy sigh. “I know. I know. I wouldn’t have bothered with you this long if you were.”
“Exactly.” I took a step toward him, holding his gaze. He needed to know I was going to do this and he wasn’t going to get me out of it. I let Aven’s voice in my head back my words. “I can do this. I won’t lie to you, Raeth, I’m scared out of my mind, but I’ll do it. I can.” I had to.
“Because Aven believes you can?”
“If it’s what he chose to talk Marassa into, it’s the right thing. I trust him.”
“I don’t.”
“Why not?” I demanded. I couldn’t take the tension anymore, the poking at each other. If they both wanted to be on my side, they needed to be on each other’s as well. And I needed them both on my side. I needed them both, period.
I’d never thought it before, but I knew it was true. Sometime between terrifying and confusing me, Raeth had slipped his way past my walls. I was dreading leaving him behind with the Court as much as Kieras or Moray.
My irritation drowned out my shock and I pushed forward. “Why do you antagonize him so much? He’s done nothing but help me since I met him.”
“Letting Marassa throw you to the dark, that was helping you?”
“You know he can’t just walk Tobin up to me and show us to the nearest passing. He’d get all of us killed. He has to play the Court like you.”
“We all play the Court, and he’s welcome to do the same, but don’t compare me to him,” he said. “I have my limits. Gods, Hania, if I were lucky enough to have what you two do, I would tear this whole damn Court and every noble here apart for it. I’d slit Marassa’s throat myself. And that is coming from the snake who preaches subtlety and stealth.”
Under any other circumstances I might have winced at him calling himself that, but I didn’t care right now. “You know what, Raeth, that is wonderful for the lucky woman you’ll marry one day. But Marassa has a closer watch on him than she does on me, or you. So until the time comes for him to tear this Court apart, I’m going to. I’m all for helping you and your people, if I can, but I’m starting with freeing my brother, however many trials they want to throw at me for it.”
He stopped pacing and stood in front of me. I forced myself not to step back, though I was now more aware than usual of his build—taller than Aven, his shoulders broader—of the magic that danced on his tongue and could ruin my plans with a single word. “Do you want to know why I don’t trust him?”
“Why?”
“Because he joined Marassa when she attacked my Court.”
“So she got to his Court first. I’m sorry for what happened, I am, but he’s not the villain. Marassa is.”
“My Court was all but wiped from this Realm, and he was a part of that. He sits beside her.”
“You do too,” I reminded him. When had my voice become so cold?
“Yes, and I watched one hundred of my people be slaughtered to ensure I was in a position to one day end her. Innocent people, who had their tongues cut from their mouths and daggers driven through their hearts, whose faces and dying screams I will never forget. But not one selkie was marched into the Eyes to pay for his position.”
Something shook through me, something I couldn’t name, and I prayed Raeth couldn’t see it. My voice quieted. “What are you saying?”
It was a lie. Marassa had been no less cruel to Aven, because he’d put up no less of a fight than Raeth had. Or else he had done something to buy his people’s safety. That was all. That was it.
But the look in Raeth’s eyes said that wasn’t it. The anger in his voice softened, as if that might lessen the blow. “I won’t pretend to know his true intentions. Maybe their arrangement protected his people. Maybe he has the same plans I do. But from all I have seen—and I have seen many, many things in this Court not meant for my eyes, believe me—he’s suffered the least of us. And I can’t keep myself from wondering why.”
I closed my eyes, shutting out the images that assaulted me. The way Raeth was looking at me. The way Aven looked at me. That morning with the summer-drifters, when he’d held me in his arms and we’d listened to their song. The broken, whispered apologies in the courtyard. Isla’s gasping scream. The ice in Aven’s voice when he’d told me about the Trials. Tobin standing beside Marassa, her pearls chaining him to her.
“I’m doing the Trials,” I said, eyes closed. I couldn’t look at him. “It’s decided. I’m freeing Tobin and getting him home. And then—”
I broke off, realizing I had no words to finish the sentence. Raeth knew it. “And then what, Hania? Will you come back? Stay with Aven like you aren’t human and he isn’t a selkie? Live out the rest of your life a slave, and sneaking moments with him when the rest of the Court is too preoccupied to notice? Or stay at your farm and care for your animals and your crops and pretend you’re another village girl?”
“I don’t know,” was all I could say, my voice thick and hoarse. “I don’t know, all I know is that I have to save my brother. And the Trials are the only thing left.”
I opened my eyes to see a pain and sorrow deeper than any I’d seen before reflected in Raeth’s eyes. He pulled me to him without a word, and I didn’t think that it was Tiraethsi, the most cunning and dangerous man in this Court. I didn’t think at all. I wrapped my arms around him and let every breath and heartbeat of him steady my trembling.
When I was stable, when the terror had given way to a kind of tired peace, I pulled away. He didn’t speak. There was nothing left to say. He pressed his lips to my forehead, a silent blessing. I savored the feeling, but not for too long.
I took in his face, those sea-green eyes that had seen more of me than anyone in the last weeks, and when I was sure I had it memorized down to every little slope and curve, I squared my shoulders and left the Lord of Sirens behind.
“Do you know what it’ll be?” I asked. I didn’t turn my head to look at Kieras, but I saw the shadow settled on her face in her reflection.
Her voice was soft and tight. “No. Every time it’s different. Always in a different order, always different tasks. Testing the same things but in a different way. To emulate battle, they say—a warrior will never know exactly what they’re stepping into.”
Her nimble fingers worked the straps and fastenings of the leathers as if she’d done it a thousand times, and when she’d finished she took my shoulders and turned me to face her.
“You look scared near to death.”
“I’m not a warrior.” How could Aven expect me to survive trials that had been a challenge for him, who was raised from birth to pass them? Trials that tidespeople had died in?
“No, you’re not,” she agreed. “You’re far too short and not at all intimidating. Any enemy would laugh at the sight of you.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
She continued like I hadn’t spoken. “But you’re the only human to walk into the Eyes rather than be dragged. That alone means something. And if the Queen didn’t believe you were a threat, she wouldn’t be p
laying this game with you.”
“Or she’d be playing just for the fun of winning.”
“Isn’t that why anybody plays any game? That doesn’t matter.” She pushed me around again to face my reflection, and I forced myself to take the sight in, not cringe away.
I’d never worn pants in my life. Some women did—hunters and travelers—but none in the village. I’d never done anything that would justify it. The pair Raeth had provided hugged my legs, more comfortable than I’d expected but strange. They fit as closely as the shirt, long-sleeved and showing every curve. The efficient dress of a warrior: simple, easy to move in, and not so flashy it would be a sin to see it drowned in blood. The rich, earthy brown of it made my skin glow golden-tan. Kieras had worked my hair into a long braid that hung down my back. All the light in the room felt drawn to the gems settled at the hollow of my throat, hung on a simple leather band. One green, one blue. Just as I had requested when Raeth had said he’d ensure I had something more suitable for me to wear than my gown.
I studied my reflection before a smile showed itself. I didn’t look like a tidesperson, I could never hope to imitate their unearthliness. But I looked like a warrior. And that was all I needed.
The door to the little dressing room was shoved open by the guards, two merrow men who sneered at the sight of us. “It’s time,” one said in a growl.
Kieras pulled me into a hug, ignoring them. I returned it, but resisted the urge to tremble or cling to her. Now was not the time to show any weakness. “Don’t die out there,” she whispered against my shoulder. “This place was boring before you showed up.”
I didn’t get a chance to respond before the guards hauled us apart. Neither of us fought against it—we knew better—but she gave me a single nod in parting before I was guided out the door. As we started down the hall, I prayed that wouldn’t be my last glimpse of my friend.
We marched along the gilded path they’d chosen for today in silence, and I kept my gaze focused ahead. I wouldn’t look at the guards. I wouldn’t see the way excitement and bloodlust danced in their eyes. I could feel it in the air, like a rising storm; the entire Court was waiting with bated breath for me to die.
I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of quaking at the thought. If they were going to see me die, they were going to see me die fighting.
The crowd roared when we stepped out into the gardens. Servants and the lowest of those residing in the Eyes first; they watched on either side of us as the guards led me to the Queen, and they sneered and laughed and cheered. Some spat at me, as if I was a criminal walking to the gallows. A few brave individuals—all sirens, I noticed, bearing the green gems of their former Court—clapped or whistled. The rest of Raeth’s girls stood together at the edge, watching me. Their eyes cut into me, unblinking.
Next came the higher-standing nobility, watching in stony silence that made for a sharp contrast against the shouting and hollering of the servants. They didn’t spit at me. They didn’t laugh. They didn’t glare. They watched with all the crafted superiority and indifference they could. But I saw the light behind their masks. Every single one of them, ready to see my blood spilled. Eager for it, though they wouldn’t stoop to be vocal about it.
I didn’t meet any of their gazes. I kept going forward.
Cerulean and pearls caught my eye at the end of the hall of bodies. Ilan was ethereal in a lavender dress that shone in the late-morning sunlight, and everything from the set of her shoulders to the spark in her eyes told of a different kind of excitement than anybody around her. I glanced toward her, and she held my gaze and tapped two fingers over her heart and gave me the tiniest of nods.
I wondered again how she’d come to be in the Dragon Court. What she’d lost.
I was pushed forward the last step to where the crowd was replaced by a circle of guards. No sign of Tobin. The High Court stood before me now. For the first time, I didn’t bow to them, and I didn’t play Raeth’s doll. I stood as myself, and I stood proud.
Namak’s upper lip curled when I looked at him. Moray bobbed midair and avoided my gaze. Raeth showed not a flash of warmth, his face returned to that cool, bored mask. Aven was so impeccable in his performance he might have stepped straight from the murals at home, all predatory grace wrapped in black and gray and blue.
As always, Marassa was at the center of them, her silver-and-turquoise gown rippling in the breeze, its jeweled embellishments clinking melodically. The smile she gave me was as sculpted and beautiful as a marble statue’s and twice as cold. She looked like she had the night they’d attacked my village and taken Tobin—like one of the old gods had touched the earth and spun lightning and high tide into a person.
“Has she been checked?” she asked the guards on either side of me.
They didn’t answer; one grabbed the back of my shirt, as if I might run, and the other pulled at my clothes, searching for weapons. I held both arms out and kept still, never looking away from Marassa. I wasn’t dumb enough to bring weapons when I’d been ordered not to; I’d only get myself killed before I started.
I clenched my joints to keep from flinching at the feeling of the guard’s scaled skin and twisted claws. I was sure he heard my heart pick up; he sneered and his hands lingered at my hips, my breasts, reptilian eyes shining at what was must be the thought of seeing what had gotten me Raeth’s loyalty. It took all the effort in me not to knee him.
“No weapons, my Queen. She’s obeyed the rules.”
“And her leathers? Who’s provided them?”
“I have,” Raeth drawled, inspecting his fingernails rather than looking at me or her. “Should she survive but fail to win her freedom, I’d like her to be in one piece.” He delivered the excuse without missing a beat, but I had a feeling from the scattered laughter that rose from the crowd that failing and surviving did not often go hand-in-hand.
“As you wish, Lord.” With a gesture Marassa dismissed the guards, who backed away to the circle around us, and she stepped forward, feet gliding along the ground, closer to floating than walking. At first, I thought she was approaching me and every muscle in me tensed, preparing for it, but she veered away and continued deeper into the gardens. Moray and the Lords remained in formation behind her.
The order was unspoken but clear. I followed them.
Marassa had her back to me. If I’d hidden a weapon, slipped some tiny knife from Raeth’s room into my boot or sleeve, I could drive it into her back now and it would be over. Namak and the guards would counter, but I had Aven, Moray, and Raeth. Two Lords against one, with a sprite for good measure. It didn’t matter, the Queen would be dead and Tobin would be free. The sirens and selkies would be free.
But I hadn’t. They would have found it. And she knew it.
They stopped before the maze that created the centerpiece of the courtyard, made of towering blue-green hedges taller than I stood. Marassa and the Lords paused at the sides of the entrance.
“Your trial begins here,” she said.
What kind of trial could be held here? Finding my way out of the maze—Cunning, perhaps?
Too easy.
“What am I to do?” I asked, forcing my voice to stay strong and even.
She smiled again. “I’ve been told you have a way with animals. I’d like to see it for myself.”
She gestured to the entrance.
I stepped forward. Nobody spoke as I stopped at the edge, staring into the shadowy paths before me. They were silent. I risked a glance toward Raeth, who blinked—the only crack in his mask so far, subtle as it was. And then to Moray: its shine looked duller with every passing minute, but it looked to me this time, eyes wide and worried. My gaze slid to Aven. I saw his hidden tension. The storm he wouldn’t let reach further than his eyes.
A thousand words rushed to my lips but I couldn’t speak them. All I could do was touch the gem at my throat and hope he understood.
Hope he understood all the things I wanted to tell him before I walked in there.
&n
bsp; Hope he understood that I knew he wanted to rip the maze from the ground and I knew why he couldn’t, and I’d never hold it against him.
He nodded once, as small a nod as Ilan’s, and it almost made my knees give out. I tore my gaze from his and stepped into the maze.
The light dimmed as soon as I did, as if the hedges reached up to blot out the sun. The sky was the painted pinks and oranges of the Realm, cheery and stunning as always, but it didn’t quite reach as far as normal. The stiff, prickly leaves pressed around me; the paths were hardly wide enough to pass through, and my breath felt too thin.
Think, Hania. Stay calm. I forced a slow, deep breath and stopped, listening. Waiting. Thinking. The tests were always in a different order and never obvious. Strength, Cunning, Loyalty, and Honor. Determining which this was would get me one step closer to passing.
Marassa wanted to see me work with animals. Not Strength—she couldn’t measure my strength in a battle against an animal. I’d be put against warriors for that.
Unless that was what she wanted me to expect.
No, I’d consider that later. Loyalty—was I to make this animal, whatever it was, useful to the Court somehow? Help the Court or Marassa above myself?
Or Honor—not to harm it unless I had to? But no, Marassa wasn’t the type to care about the welfare of a random beast. Though I’d been told time and time again that she had a merciful side, if a small one. Maybe this was where it applied.
Cunning—tame the beast? Hunt it?
I didn’t know. I couldn’t begin to guess.
I wiped my palms on my pants and ventured forward a step. Silence. Where was this animal I was supposed to be tested with? What was it?
Another step. And another. I chose a path at random, following it until it split and then changing direction. Trusting my feet and my instincts. Every step I took carefully, silencing it. Aven kept his weight on his toes when in danger, light and agile, ready to turn or run at any instant’s notice. I mimicked him.
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