“Not yet,” Jasmine smiled. She waved her hand over both disks, and they slowly bloomed with color. Hers was a dull yellow, only a shade or two brighter than the original wood, while mine turned a deep blue that reminded me of Fergus’ magic. At least I wasn’t fighting Jasmine. That was good. I looked around the room, watching as the other girls followed Jasmine’s lead and their disks lit up with color. A small girl stood across from us, holding the matching yellow disk to Jasmine’s. Based on size alone, Jasmine should wipe the floor with her. Piper held the matching blue disk. I suppressed a sigh. What were the chances?
Jasmine raised her eyebrows. “Piper’s tough, but if you’re fast, you might beat her.” There was a question in her voice.
I didn’t imagine I was fast enough to outrun the magic Piper would use. “Can people … fae see magic?” What I was asking, the question I couldn’t voice, was whether she knew if anyone here could see it.
She grinned. “Some. Like the prince. And me.”
“The prince will be here for this?” There went any chance of secretly using my magic, even if it was only a remote chance, anyway.
“Of course.”
“Girls!” Phyllis waved one hand, raising her voice over our talking. “Follow me.”
We filed out the door behind her, the murmur of excited voices following in her wake. I listened to the other girls talking about how they might beat their opponent, which weapon they might use—magic seemed to be everyone’s answer—and where they thought the contest might take place. I guessed I would use a sword. I’d added to the lessons Fergus had given me this past year to the point where I didn’t think he’d recognize my movements as those of Bria.
We wound our way through the halls of the castle. I knew where we were going before we walked into the ballroom, despite that, the change in the appearance of this room made my breath catch. Gone was the staircase we’d walked down a few nights back, and everything that looked like Lanwick Island. There was nothing I recognized in this room except the king’s throne. That was positioned where it always sat, looking across the length of the room.
In front of the throne was a fighting ring with ropes around the outside and grey sand on the ground. Tiered seating surrounded half of it—the half that didn’t impede the view from the throne. The fighting ring was large, with plenty of room to run, should I need it, but nowhere to hide.
A hush fell over the room and I turned to see Fergus stride in, Willow and Indira in his wake. Jax walked over to him, bending at the waist to speak as he sat. Fergus nodded, and Jax straightened. He cleared his throat, though there was no need. We were all looking at him, anyway.
“Green disks, please step forward.”
A dark-haired fae girl and Samara, the only human left, both walked up to stand in front of Jax. “Beatrix, Samara, you will fight first. Please name your weapon. Beatrix?”
The dark-haired fae spoke in a clear voice. “Magic.” As if she would use anything else.
“Samara?”
Samara shook her head. Her back was to me, but I was certain I saw tears on her cheeks as she walked past. This was an unfair test for a human. Knowing this was required, Fergus should never have included them in the Declaration. “Spear.” Her voice shook.
Jax nodded. “Excellent choice. The color of your disk also depicts where you will fight. Green is for the forest.” Jax held out one hand and Willow passed him a spear, which he gave to Samara. “You may approach the ring.”
The girls turned away from Jax, and Samara’s mouth gaped as she looked past the rest of us. I turned to follow her gaze, my mouth dropping open the same way. I’d been in Faery long enough now that I thought nothing could surprise me. I was wrong.
The fighting ring had tripled in size and was now filled with trees and bushes, some that were as high as the tall ceiling and so thick I could no longer see the other side of the ballroom. Leaf mulch covered the ground, and the aroma of damp moss reached my nostrils. Maybe Samara would be all right. At least there were trees to hide behind.
Jax’s voice made me turn back toward him. “If you leave the ring, you forfeit your place in the Declaration. If you can no longer continue, call surrender. You will forfeit your place here, but no further harm will be inflicted. You may injure your opponent, but only enough to stop their attack. You are not to kill them. Do so, and you forfeit your place. Any wounds you receive will be fully healed by Princess Willow as soon as you surrender.”
Wound? Injure? Kill? This was a far more serious fight than the training type sparring I’d expected. I glanced at Jasmine. Her face was alight. The rules seemed to bother her not at all. Fine for her, she could shield with the same weapon she used to wound.
Beatrix marched up to the edge of the ring, her head high and a smirk on her face. She knew she had this won. Samara followed, her eyes darting around the ring in front of her—the parts she could see of it, that was.
Both girls stopped at the edge, where the ballroom floor morphed into grass clumps and leaf mulch, though Samara moved away from Beatrix, her eyes still darting.
“Are you both ready?” Phyllis’ clear voice came from the far side of the room, hidden from my sight by the giant trees.
Beatrix called, “Yes.”
Samara nodded, something Phyllis couldn’t have seen. It didn’t seem to matter though, because a moment later, she called, “Go!”
Samara didn’t wait to be told a second time, rushing directly into the center of the ring and out of sight, one hand clutched around her spear. Beatrix was in no such hurry, sauntering into the forest. White magic grew on her palm.
I searched for Samara, but couldn’t find her, and moved around the outside of the forest ring with some of the other girls to locate her. The grey of our clothing did a good job of hiding her, but she was still moving, and that made her easier to spot. I wanted to yell at her to hide, but that wouldn’t help her win. Nothing would help her win.
Beatrix stalked noisily around the forest, kicking at rocks and cracking sticks, while Samara moved with stealth through the undergrowth, lifting low lying branches and searching beneath them. I understood her wish to hide. Once Beatrix found her, Samara’s time in this competition would be over. But she seemed to be looking for something.
She knelt on the leafy ground and dug her hands in the soil. Using all her strength, she rocked back on her heels, pulled out a root and broke it carefully in half. I suddenly understood her plan. She’d found greenroot—a poison that could temporarily stop fae magic, but only if it entered a fae’s bloodstream. She wiped the sticky yellow sap across the tip of her spear until it was covered. Then she stood and retraced her steps until she reached a tree with low and easily climbable branches. Angling the tip of the spear away from her body, she pulled herself up until hidden from our view.
Beatrix sauntered around the ring. The glow of her white magic marked her path through the thick foliage, as did the noise she made as she moved. She let a blast of magic go, and it hit the base of one of the largest trees—one whose branches brushed the high ceiling. It hit with a crack and the tree tilted, falling toward the ground, almost in slow motion. A flash of blue lit up the forest, and I turned to see Fergus catch the falling tree with his magic, and lower it carefully down. Beatrix was now exposed—easy to see in the space the tree left.
She didn’t care, even turning and smirking at some of the girls watching. One of them, one of Beatrix’s friends, mouthed something to her. Beatrix gave a nod, then started for the tree Samara was hiding in, white magic growing in her hand again. She shot her magic all around as she walked, at trees, bushes, rocks, so many times it was impossible to tell where one blast finished and the next started. Bushes and small trees tumbled to the ground, sheared off at the base. Samara had no chance.
I guessed that made two of us.
Beatrix stopped in front of the leafy tree where Samara was hidden. She glanced at her friend, who nodded. Beatrix let off another volley of blast
s, and this tree, too, toppled down. She stepped forward to look for her opponent among the branches, her magic ready to wound.
As she leaned over, Samara’s spear cut through the air from high in another tree. It hit Beatrix on the shoulder. She screamed and fell forward onto her knees, writhing.
Samara dropped from the tree and walked over to her. Her voice was clear when she spoke. “Are we done here?”
I couldn’t help but smile. I hadn’t expected that. None of us had expected that.
Beatrix shook her head, her movements stilted. “Never.” She held out a hand like she was about to throw her magic, but none appeared. The poison must be taking effect.
Samara took hold of the spear and twisted it. I smiled again. The part of me that still felt human liked to see the underdog win.
Beatrix screamed, her body spasming as the spear moved. “Yes. Fine. I surrender!”
The second she said the words, the forest disappeared and the two were on the sand of the original fighting ring.
Phyllis pushed through the ropes and walked over to them. “Samara is the winner. Beatrix, Princess Willow will attend to your wounds, then you must pack up your things and return to your home.”
“Yes, fine.” Beatrix hissed. “Just get this thing out of my shoulder.”
Samara removed the spear more gently than I expected.
Jasmine fought next. Her fighting ring looked like a desert, with undulating sand and huge dunes. Rather than firing balls of magic at her opponent, with what seemed like just a flick of one finger, and using so little magic I didn’t even see it on her hand, she made the sand sink where her opponent stood. As the girl fought to get out, it sucked her down deeper. Her opponent called surrender immediately. With both her hands stuck in the sand, she couldn’t win.
I waited for my turn with growing nerves, trying to figure out what the dark blue of my disk might mean for the design of my fighting ring. I’d thought water, but the girls with light blue disks got that.
“Dark blue disks, please step forward.”
Jasmine gave my arm a squeeze. “Good luck.”
I gave her a tight smile, wondering if I should have used my immunity. No. I could use my surroundings to hide, the same way Samara had. Using the immunity might help me stay, but none of the girls would be happy if I used it, and upsetting them wouldn’t get me any closer to the answers I needed.
I walked up to Jax, purposefully keeping my eyes off Fergus, though I felt him watching me. Watching Amber.
“Piper, Amber, you will fight next. Please name your weapon. Piper?”
“Magic.” She smiled brightly.
“Amber?” Jax raised his eyebrows.
“Sword.”
He gave a single nod, as if he agreed with my choice, and Willow stepped forward with my weapon. She met my gaze, her eyes concerned. She needn’t worry. I would not put her brother at risk today. I would not use my magic.
“You’ve already heard the rules. Do you need further explanation?” Jax asked.
We both shook our heads.
“Very well. You may approach the ring.”
I turned slowly, waiting to see where my fight with Piper would take place. Where there had been a forest, a desert, a lake in previous fights, there now stood only the sandy-floored fighting ring. I looked over my shoulder. “Where is our fighting ring?”
Jax nodded past me. “It is right there.”
“But that’s … just a fighting ring.” With nowhere to hide.
“Dark blue is the prince’s color. Your disk contained the prince’s choice in venue. He chose the ring as you see it.”
I glanced at him. He stared past me to the area in question.
“Did you have something else to ask?” Jax prompted.
I shook my head. It was on the tip of my tongue to suggest the prince lacked imagination, but I kept that thought to myself and turned back to the ring.
“You can’t win against me, human. In the next few minutes, you will be out of this competition and Prince Fergus will forget you for good,” Piper hissed.
I ignored her, anger blooming in my veins. I was going to have to be fast on my feet, and if I was lucky, I’d get a chance to strike. That was all I needed to focus on.
Sooner than I was prepared for, Phyllis called, “Go.”
Piper leaped over the ropes the moment Phyllis spoke, then stood in the center of the ring, waiting.
For me.
I took my time climbing between the ropes. As soon as my second foot touched the floor, Piper balled up her magic and threw it at me.
I jumped to one side, but she predicted my movement and shot a second ball at me as I moved. It hit my shin and my leg went out from under me. I hit the ground, the grit of sand sticking between my teeth. Someone outside the ring gasped. It might have been Willow.
My leg burned, but I wouldn’t let myself dwell on it. I was here to fight.
I pushed myself back to my feet. Piper smirked, her magic sitting on her palm once more. “Not ready to surrender yet, little human?” Her voice was mocking.
I didn’t answer, watching that ball of magic and Piper’s eyes, trying to work out where she might put it next.
Her gaze flicked to my chest.
I dropped onto my hands and knees, the wound on my shin throbbing. A ball of magic whisked over my head. I let out a breath and jumped up, already swinging my sword.
Piper didn’t even move her feet as I came at her. She just threw more magic at me, too fast for me to react. It hit my chest, and I was on the ground before I registered that I’d been struck.
I fought to draw a breath, trying to push to my feet at the same time. I had to keep moving. To keep fighting.
In the distance, Piper laughed. “Game over.”
I shook my head. I was not withdrawing, not yet. She’d been a complete shrew to me the entire time I’d been in Unseelie, and she would not win today. Not if I could help it.
As I lay on my stomach, my magic gathered in my veins, straining to escape. It wanted to fight back. Or to protect me with a shield. I closed my eyes and willed it to stay where it was, buried inside me. I pushed my hands down into the sand, covering them, so no one would see should I lose the battle and allow it to escape. Then I counted to ten.
It seemed as if Piper heard my silent counting. With each consecutive number, she fired another blast of magic into my back. Each one burned more than the last. An ache that burrowed right down to my bones and stole my breath. But I could do nothing to stop her. I was terrified that if I moved, I would no longer be able to control the urge to use my magic.
The counting helped. Slowly, the need to use my magic disappeared. I pushed myself up, gripping tightly to my sword. I wobbled on my feet, couldn’t breathe. Everything hurt. Sweat, or blood, dripped into my eyes. I swiped it away with the back of my hand.
I would not let her get the best of me.
Another ball of magic came my way. It hit my hip and knocked me sideways and three steps backward, the sword falling from my fingers.
“Do you surrender now, little human?” Piper’s voice was sickly sweet.
I shook my head and bent to reach for my sword. Another volley of magic flew at me. Too many shots to count. It hit my forearm, shoulder, my head—and suddenly I was on the ground again.
I had to get up. I knew it, but my body wouldn’t listen. Just like I couldn’t keep the groans of pain from making their way up my throat. Piper must be loving this.
Then Fergus was talking. How lovely his voice was. Smooth, like honey. Or a cascading waterfall. But he wasn’t speaking to me. “Amber? Amber, do you hear me?”
Wait.
I was Amber. He was talking to me.
I nodded, willing my eyes to open. I wanted to look at him. But they remained firmly closed.
“Surrender now. Or use your immunity.”
I wasn’t doing either. I would fight her. I would show her I was stronger
than I looked. Just as soon as I got to my feet.
“Amber!” His voice grew rough and urgent. “Use your immunity or I will surrender you from this contest. I will have no one’s death on my conscience.”
“Your Highness.” Piper’s voice was sweet, coming from above me. “You will have to surrender her. It seems she cannot speak for herself.”
“And why would that be?” Fergus boomed. How I wished I could force my eyelids to open. I imagined him pushing up out of his throne and storming toward Piper. At least, I hoped he was doing that. “Could it be because you used far more magic than required to win? Despite the rules?”
“N-no. She’s just weaker than the average human.”
Weaker than the average human? If I was Samara, I’d already be dead. I’d show her weak.
My eyes cracked open, and I spied my sword lying just in reach. I wrapped my fingers around it. Then I counted to five. This was going to hurt. I was under no illusions. But I was not weak. I would show her.
With a growl that came from my deep in my stomach, I jumped to my feet, my sword already swinging. Piper’s eyes widened as I lunged, my sword arcing down toward her.
With barely a movement, she sent a bolt of her bronze magic at me. It flew too fast to dodge and buried between my ribs, burning a path all the way through my chest. My legs wobbled, and I dropped onto the sand, the fall sending another shot of flaming agony through my body.
I couldn’t breathe. Or see. Or move.
Shouting surrounded me, and I forced my eyes to open.
“Amber!” Jax’s face came into focus above me. “Are you all right?”
I nodded.
He shook his head, a frown wrinkling his forehead. “You don’t look all right.”
I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. It took everything I had just to keep my eyes from falling shut.
“Tell her to use her immunity this moment or she forfeits the competition,” Fergus boomed from somewhere far away. Probably on his throne.
Kingdom of Future's Hope (Royals of Faery Book 4) Page 13