by Jayne Faith
“Maya, wake up!” the frantic tone of Iris’s voice sent my pulse skyrocketing even higher.
With shaking hands, I unlocked the bolt and threw the door open. Iris hurried in and banged the door shut behind her.
“We just got word,” she said. “The Obligates are to appear in the throne room in less than an hour and then go straight to the next challenge of the Tournament.”
I stood rigidly, staring at her in disbelief. “That can’t be,” I whispered. “It’s not for three more days. I have three more days to rest. It’s not time yet.”
My knees began to shake so hard I feared I’d collapse. I shuffled backward until I bumped into the edge of the bed and then sank onto it.
Iris carried a jumbled pile of clothing and shoes—it appeared to be the same outfit I’d worn during the first challenge—which she dumped on the bed next to me.
I looked stupidly at the clothes. “I can’t do this, Iris. I’m not strong enough yet. It’s an effort just to bathe.” I shook my head, my mouth still working but no words coming out.
“I don’t know what happened.” She grabbed the form-fitting black pants by the waistband and bent to hold them for me, as if I were a small child who needed help dressing. “But something is very wrong. Some of the other guides . . .” Her mouth pinched and she shook her head.
I grabbed her shoulder and leaned over, forcing her to look up at me. “What is it? What about the other guides?”
“I think some of them knew of this many hours before I was informed. Maybe even yesterday afternoon.” Her hands fell, the pants forgotten for the moment.
“You mean some of the guides went to ready their Obligates yesterday? And no one told you?”
“Maya, I think . . . I think someone wants to make sure you don’t survive this challenge.” Her eyes were wide with alarm, and her lips trembled. She pressed them tight for a long moment, and when she finally spoke, her voice dropped so low I could barely make out what she said next. “And I think it’s someone very high up. Someone in the royal fam—”
I jumped back as her words turned to a scream, and her face distorted into a mask of pain. She clawed at the back of her neck with both hands.
Her implant.
“Iris!” I lunged to try to catch her as her back arched and she lost her balance. We both crashed to the floor.
I shouted her name again, but her eyes were rolled back in her head and her mouth stretched in a gruesome sort of smile, a silent cry of agony. She thrashed out with her feet, and her hands still flailed at her neck. I was trying to restrain her, to keep her from hurting herself, but I didn’t have the strength. One of her elbows caught me under the chin, and I fell to my side with stars dancing in my vision.
The door banged open, and I shrieked. Three official-looking Calistan men in dark green uniforms bearing an unfamiliar emblem on the chest stormed in. My guard—it was Tullock—raced in right behind them.
Tullock pulled me away from Iris, lifting me clear off my feet, and held me tightly from behind in a bear hug.
The three men grabbed Iris roughly, hauling her up to her feet even though she was still screaming and her eyes were squeezed closed. They dragged her out the door.
I struggled to free myself from Tullock’s grip, hollering after the men, but he silently restrained me until I could no longer hear Iris’s screams.
“Who are they?” I whipped around on him when he finally loosened his hold. Tears spilled from my eyes. “What are they going to do with her?”
He shook his head. “They’re Monitors.”
I swiped angrily at my wet cheeks. My chest heaved as if I’d just sprinted a mile, and cold sweat dampened my skin. “What are Monitors?”
“They come when something triggers the implant.”
Iris had been trying to warn me of something, trying to tell me that someone in the royal family wanted to harm me.
“What’s going to happen to her?”
“It depends on the crime,” he said. “There are a few possible punishments. Prison. Possibly execution.”
I squeezed my eyelids closed and pushed the heels of my hands over my eyes.
This isn’t happening. It has to be a bad dream. In a minute I’ll wake up and everything will be okay.
“You’d best change and ready yourself for the throne room,” Tullock said. I heard him slip out and close the door behind him.
I rushed to the door and opened it a crack. “Tullock, please, I have to speak to Lord Toric.”
He started to shake his head. I stepped through the doorway and clutched at his thick forearm, looking up into his citrine eyes. “Please, I must,” I said with every shred of pleading and urgency I could muster. “I have to speak to him before we go to the throne room. I’ve lost my guide, and I’m too weak to compete. I don’t understand what’s happening. Tullock, I’m going to die in this challenge. Please, please do this one small thing for me.”
He gave a barely perceptible dip of his chin. “Go back into your room and stay there. I will send an urgent request.”
I sagged with relief. “Thank you.”
Back inside, I fought the urge to vomit as I quickly shed my nightgown and picked up the black pants from where Iris had dropped them. I pulled on the stretchy pants and top and slipped my feet into the treaded shoes. My stomach churned with shock, fear, and confusion.
I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at the door and willing someone to arrive and tell me that it was a mistake, that I still had three more days until the next challenge. Echoes of the same deep disbelief and dread I’d felt on the day of the Selection flooded through me, adding to my terror.
After a few minutes, I could no longer sit still. I went into the bathroom and braided my hair, using the hair tie Iris had given me to secure the braid.
I didn’t have the strength to pace, so I went back to the bed. I pulled up my knees and wrapped my arms around my legs, squeezing myself into a tight trembling ball, and tried to calm my racing pulse with slow breaths.
But I couldn’t fool myself. Iris had told me that the challenge—called the game of survival—was a physical trial as well as a mental one. I’d narrowly survived the first challenge with my full strength. How would I survive when I could barely manage to hold myself upright for more than a minute or two before I needed to rest?
And Iris’s last words spun through my mind. If someone “very high up” was against me—especially if it was Akantha or someone connected to her—my doom was all but sealed.
But how could Akantha go against Lord Toric? She was powerful, certainly, but he was the Lord of Calisto and Earth, for stars’ sake!
Then I remembered that Lord Toric was not allowed to interfere with the Tournament. I slumped as my last bit of strength seemed to drain away. The delay he’d bargained for . . . it had probably been a favor. Akantha was in charge of the Tournament, and I supposed that meant she had the final say.
“Maya?” a male voice called from beyond my room, and my head jerked up in response.
Holding my breath, I went to the door and nearly flung it open before remembering that I should check to see who was there first.
It wasn’t Lord Toric. It was Tullock, and he was alone. I could tell by the look on his face that his news was not good.
I briefly closed my eyes and touched my forehead against the door before unlocking it.
“I’m sorry, I was not able to summon Lord Toric,” he said. His face was impassive, but his eyes shone with sincere regret. “It’s time for you to gather with the other Offered and go to the throne room.”
I looked past him to see Obligates exiting their rooms with their guides and forming a double line.
My heart seemed to quake in my chest.
7
Toric
WHEN A FULL minute of Calvin’s fist upon Akantha’s door brought no response, I was ready to beat the walls down.
Instead, I nodded at the Master of Security. “Open it,” I growled through clamped teeth.
/> The wiry man blocked our view as he worked at the lock, and a moment later the door swung open. Three guards brushed past him, storming into Akantha’s apartment, while Calvin and Palovich stayed out in the corridor with me.
Movement off to the side drew my eye, and I caught glimpses of some of Akantha’s neighbors peering out into the corridor before quickly retreating and closing their doors.
As I’d expected, the guards returned empty-handed in less than a minute.
Akantha was hiding from me, I was sure. But even if I caught up with her, what would I do? She’d gone back on our deal, and I had no real recourse. I could not change the Tournament schedule. The Tournament was completely in her control.
I’d sent guards to check Jeric’s chambers, too, and I looked hopefully at Calvin. “Any word from the others?”
He touched his earpiece and mumbled something, his eyes cast down. His gaze met mine, and he gave a small, grim-faced shake of his head.
Maya had asked for me, but I’d been forced to ignore her request to hunt for Akantha. My fists clenched at my sides as I struggled to stay focused through my frustration.
The Mistress of Tournament couldn’t keep hiding. She had to show herself in the throne room, so that was where I had to go next.
Victor came running up. “My Lord,” he said. He was panting hard, only able to get out a few words between breaths. “You must get ready for . . . audience in the throne room. You’re not dressed . . . you need your . . . crown, bracelets, and anklets. The audience seating begins in only a few minutes.”
“Send for everything. Bring it to me in the waiting room under the throne. I’ll change there.” Ignoring Victor’s shocked look at my unorthodox suggestion, I spun on my heel.
Calvin caught up with me and Palovich followed close behind. “My Lord, where to next?”
“The throne room,” I said. “She has to show up there eventually.”
But by then it might be too late to change anything. Every curse phrase I’d ever heard streamed through my mind.
What was Akantha’s game? Going back on our deal seemed like nothing but pure malice on her part, and it truly surprised me. She was power hungry and boldly manipulative, but part of being an effective manipulator was being a shrewd deal maker. This move sacrificed any possibility of my entering into a bargain with her in the future, and surely she knew that.
What could be so important?
Perhaps Akantha was the one in the Oracle’s vision. Except she was not officially part of the royal family yet, so this betrayal could not be the act in the vision. Was that good or bad?
My head pounded with anger and worry. If only I had more time.
I could only imagine what Maya was feeling. It dashed my heart that I’d had to ignore her request, that she might have thought I’d abandoned her. I should have at least taken a moment to send a confidential note so that she would know I was doing everything I could on her behalf, as ineffective as my efforts had been so far.
I curled my fingers into fists again to keep from reaching up and tearing at my hair.
Calvin touched his ear, listening to his earpiece, and then muttered something. He glanced at me. “The audience is already entering the throne room. We’ll have to take you through the hidden entrance.”
It would cost a few more minutes, but he was right. Decorum and protocol dictated that I must stay out of sight of the audience until I took the throne.
When we passed the hallway lined by dressing room doors—the rooms where the Offered waited before filing into the throne room—my chest tightened.
Knowing Maya was in one of those rooms, confused and afraid and weak, was a dagger in my heart. I briefly squeezed my eyes closed and then blew out a slow breath, trying to loosen the tightening in my chest.
Palovich and Calvin accompanied me through the back entrance into the chamber under the throne. I spotted the Priestess first. Akantha sat on a chair, partially obscured from my view by the Priestess’s flowing opalescent robes.
I turned to my guards. “You’re dismissed.”
Palovich secured the back door, and Calvin gave me a penetrating look as he nodded and continued on through the chamber. They had to get changed as well so they could take their places on either side of the throne.
I turned my attention to Akantha, who’d stood to curtsy but stayed where she was, with the Priestess in between us.
I stalked toward the Mistress of Tournament. Her eyes widened, and she backed up until she bumped into the wall.
“What is the meaning of this?” I thundered down at her. “I supported your engagement to my brother against my better judgment and personal preference. You have broken your word. Explain yourself!”
Apprehension flashed in her eyes, and she swallowed.
“Call off the challenge at once, Akantha!” I shouted, unable to contain myself when she didn’t respond, and she jumped.
Victor would arrive any second, and I needed to try to get Akantha to change her mind about the challenge before he came. It was not a conversation to have in the presence of a servant, even my most trusted man.
She squared her shoulders and brushed her hands down the front of her dress, smoothing the fabric as if she had all the time in the world. She looked up at me from under her lashes. “I cannot do that, my Lord,” she said, her voice a low purr. “The challenge will go on.”
“My Lord,” the Priestess said urgently behind me. “Someone is coming.”
If Victor had not bustled into the room at that moment, I might have clamped my hands around Akantha’s neck. And if that had happened, I would have been hard pressed to stop squeezing until I’d choked the life out of her.
“You will pay for this,” I hissed, quiet enough that only she could hear what I said.
She swallowed again but didn’t look away.
My pulse pounded so hard in my temples I thought my head might burst.
I turned my back to her, went to Victor, and stood numbly while he readied me for the throne, not caring that I was stripping down to underclothes in front of Akantha and the Priestess.
Once I was dressed and wearing the iron bracelets and anklets, I sat on a bench so Victor could place the crown on my head. He sprayed me with the distillation made of seven sacred plants from Earthenfell made in water from the homeland’s seven seas.
The murmur of the crowd grew as the doors at the end of the narrow corridor to the throne room opened. I stared straight ahead past Akantha and the Priestess, who walked shoulder to shoulder down the corridor.
I followed them, emerged into the throne room, climbed the stairs to the throne, and turned and sat down. Even without looking, I sensed exactly where Maya stood on the floor of the throne room by the intensity of her energy.
The entire room rustled as the audience sat.
My heart seemed to crack in half as I finally allowed my gaze to find Maya’s pale face.
8
Maya
I SWAYED ON my feet as I watched Lord Toric take the throne. When his penetrating blue-green eyes landed on me, my knees nearly buckled.
His face was vacant of emotion for a long moment, but just before he looked away, his lips trembled. He tightened his mouth into a hard line and fury flashed in his eyes when he turned his attention to Akantha, who was waiting for his permission to begin the proceedings.
My skin slicked with cold sweat from fear as well as the effort of staying upright.
I’d managed to catch Orion’s eye before we came into the throne room, but of course we weren’t allowed to speak to each other. I wavered over whether or not I should ask for his help in this challenge. If I had powerful enemies, enlisting his partnership might endanger him, too. And this time I would be dead weight, whereas during the last challenge I’d had something to offer.
I drew a shaking breath. No, I couldn’t ask that of him. I wouldn’t put Orion in peril just for the sake of my own benefit. Even with his help, my odds of surviving the challenge were poor.
I looked up as the tiles emblazoned with each Obligates’ face and name appeared on the wall. Kalindi was in first place overall on the women’s side, and I was in second. I was only one point behind her. I’d had a real chance at winning.
Not anymore.
I closed my eyes for a moment and then stared at the floor, trying not to think of Mother and Lana. How they would react when they learned of my death.
Akantha had just finished going through the ranks of favor and was announcing the next challenge.
My jaw clenched convulsively at the bright energy in her voice, and I glared at her with all the hate I’d ever felt.
The Tournament of the Offered was horrific, and she was a monster for taking such pleasure in it.
Akantha’s eyes swept over the line of Obligates, and when she got to me, she gave me a little smirking twist of her lips. My heart nearly punched through my chest as my anger spiked. Meribel, the Obligate to my right, gave me a sidelong glance as my breaths became audibly ragged.
The edges of my vision began to gray. Maybe if I passed out they’d have to delay the challenge. Or maybe Akantha would just have my unconscious body tossed through a portal after the rest of the Obligates.
I still heard Akantha’s voice, but it was growing more faint, and I couldn’t seem to untangle the words she said from the buzzing in my ears.
The Obligates around me were shifting.
Someone clamped a firm hand around my arm. Orion.
I squinted as the light in the throne room brightened. The light intensified, and as I breathed more steadily and my vision cleared a little, I looked around for a portal.
But it wasn’t a portal opening. It was pure white light blasting in through the line of windows high on the curved wall above the audience.
I gasped. Was Calisto under attack?
Murmurs grew to exclamations, and soon the space filled with alarmed voices. Some in the audience stood, and everyone twisted to look up at the windows.
I looked away from the light, over my shoulder at Lord Toric. He’d risen to his feet, and his gaze dropped to me. His lips were parted in an expression of awe.