Mistake of Magic

by Alex Lidell

  “Which part specifically did you find confusing?” I say finally, my legs still dangling above the ground. I think the male actually forgot he was holding me up. “If you let me down, I’ll draw a picture.”

  Coal drops me and sinks into a chair.

  “Don’t lean back,” I say. “Your wounds have opened, and those chairs look expensive.”

  Coal’s eyes flash.

  Tye snorts.

  “I hate to say this”—Autumn helps herself to a glass of dry wine, the presence of which, I’m learning, is one advantage of having Tye along anywhere—“but Malikai is a smart little bastard. The only certain way for him to avoid facing you four in the arena is to face Lera. And the only way to make certain Lera’s match happens first is to have her call for it.”

  “What if Malikai hurts her?” Tye says.

  “If he wanted to murder me, he could have snapped my neck this morning when we were alone,” I say. “I really believe it’s not my death he’s after, but rather a lack of his own.”

  “Plus, the arena’s holding wards will engage the moment Lera utters ‘surrender.’” Autumn flicks a thin blond braid behind her back. “Fortunately, that part is not left to the levelheaded honor of hot-blooded warriors.”

  “Stop trying to make the mortal’s bullheaded bravery sound reasonable,” Coal tells Autumn. He picks up a wineglass but it shatters in his grip before he manages to drink. “Giving in to Malikai’s demands will not make the bastard more considerate, any more than feeding a crocodile will make it more docile.”

  “And escalating this tit-for-tat will do no one any favors either,” I tell Coal. “Point is, the cost of surrender is acceptable. As with the first trial, we will retake this later with a different quint. Malikai wants out of this mess. And frankly, so do I.”

  Coal growls and moves to lean against the far wall.

  “Point is,” River says with a commander’s bloody calm, “Leralynn has already requested the trial and Klarissa has accepted.”

  Silence follows his words and I realize I’ve avoided looking at River until now. I was right to. His gray eyes are a storm as they seize mine, his beautiful, high cheekbones tight. Whatever my intent, I’ve flouted his authority entirely. There are very few ways to hurt River more.

  He clears his throat. “Hence, less arguing and more getting ready, please.” He straightens and clasps his hands behind his back, frowning at the door to the arena. “Leralynn, once you are in there, you will be unable to see or hear us, but we will be watching you from above. Remember that no one can hear you or Malikai either. The wards will pick up on the surrender announcement, but that is it. Do you understand?”

  I nod.

  “Similarly to the Quint Trial, the Individual Trial can end one of three ways,” River says. “Someone is rendered unconscious, which means victory for the warrior left standing. Surrender, which means the whole trial must start over against a different quint. Or death.”

  “This works in your favor, Lera,” Autumn chimes in. “Malikai can’t risk striking you so hard as to make you lose consciousness. Then he would win, but the trial itself would continue, which would mean the rest of his quint would face the rest of yours. He won’t risk giving Coal, or any of these murderous idiots”—she gestures around the room—“a chance to kill one of them.”

  “Don’t get brave in there, Lilac Girl,” Tye says, twisting me toward him, his broad shoulders suddenly blocking out the entire room. “It’s a game, and take it from one who has cheated at a great many games, the last thing you want to do is make things more complex than they must be.”

  Before I can reply, Tye’s green eyes sink into mine, the humor in them fading to something more primal. His hands brush my ears, tucking the thick strands of hair away from my face, before he leans down to brush his lips over mine in a possessive caress. My mouth tingles as he pulls away, his nose hesitating in my hair to draw in a lungful of my scent. “Promise you won’t be brave.”

  I put my hands on either side of Tye’s face. His skin is clean-shaven and smooth to the touch, even as the tight muscles beneath his jaw shift to relieve the grinding tension. “I won’t do anything brave,” I promise, injecting my words with as much confidence as I can muster. “The greatest threat I face is surrendering so quickly that the whole Citadel realizes the farce—but I imagine that Malikai will make things look believable enough for the first few minutes. So don’t worry.”

  “I can’t—”

  I lean forward and brush my lips over his a final time. “I said, don’t worry.”

  Shade steps up to me next, his golden eyes sharp as he runs his fingers through my hair, reaching back to gather the whole lot of it into a tight braid. “We’ll be standing right beside Malikai’s quint—he knows who will pay the price if he tries something. So, nice and easy. You are too brave for your own good, cub, but we need that bravery for another day.” Leaning down, he presses a kiss against my forehead, slips his face toward my ear, and—

  I yelp, rubbing the top of my earlobe, which now has a drop of blood on it. “What was that?”

  Shade grins. “My scent. Very much on you. I want that bastard to remember exactly whose mate he is facing across the sand.”

  A small smile touches my lips and I turn to Coal. “Are you planning on biting me as well?”

  “No.” Pushing away from the wall, Coal strides to me with hard steps. He grips my shoulders, his blue eyes flaming. “If something goes wrong, mortal, kill the bastard. No pulling blows.”

  My senses fill with his musky scent, his anger, his need. It’s all I can do to give him a small nod.

  “I think you missed the part about this being a game,” Tye says from the side.

  “There are no games,” Coal snaps without breaking eye contact with me. “Not when it matters. And this matters. If you need to kill him, you do it. Understand?”

  “And you have some way for me to accomplish this?” I ask.

  Coal taps my chest. “You do. Don’t forget it.”

  The sound of a gong breaks apart our little gathering, and with a final check of a dulled sword that Coal settles into my hands, I step out onto the sand of the trial arena for the second time.

  Like before, sand stretches in every direction, the sun beating down into my eyes. I wonder if there is always sun in the arena, another trick of magic ensuring that every trainee experiences the same environment as the other. Squinting against the brightness, I stride toward the center, which is a bit of a feat—my body is all but trembling despite what I told the males.

  Warriors die in this arena. And I can’t be one of them.

  I surrender, I want to shout to the winds. But I can’t. Not yet. So I take step after step until Malikai’s form appears before me. He’s dressed in the orange tunic of his quint, his eyes nearly translucent in the sunlight. His gaze meets mine, for once steady instead of cruel—almost calming.

  “You are all right,” he says quietly. “You made the right choice.”

  I shift my sword, my eyes darting toward the sky.

  “They can’t hear us,” Malikai reminds me. “They will only hear the surrender because it will trigger a ward. It is safe to speak if you wish, but there isn’t much time.”

  The second gong sounds and Klarissa announces the start of the trial.

  Malikai draws his sword in a single motion, closing the distance to me so quickly that I yelp in surprise.

  “Block the bloody attack,” he yells, slowing his sword just enough for me to remember what I’m supposed to be doing and bring up my blade. He scowls. “Pay attention. I can’t do this dance for both of us alone. Block low.”

  I drop my sword just as Malikai takes a glorious swing. It hits the center of my blade in such a way that I actually manage to maintain my balance. Coal’s training rushes into my mind, moving too quickly for me to make much use of it. Gripping the sword with two hands, I swing wildly with all my might, which effectively turns me in a circle when Malikai slides out of the way.


  He circles me now, a cat playing with a mouse as his blade jets in and out, the dull blade slicing across my ankles and belly and shoulder. Unlike Coal’s blows in training, Malikai’s slices don’t hurt and certainly don’t threaten to break my bones. My heart slows enough to look around and watch what I’m doing, my blocks coming faster and more effective. Low block, step right, slide out of the way and swing for Malikai’s head, only to drop the tip of my blade to parry a cut aimed at my midsection.

  “So those bastards did manage to teach a human something,” Malikai says, the hint of approval in his voice somehow cheering me. “It’s almost time for you to surrender, but I promised you could land a handful of blows. Take your pick.”

  Kill him, Coal’s voice says in my head. I snort at the silliness of it and swing for Malikai’s flank instead. His arm drops in a perfect parry that manages to miss my blade by a hair, and he grunts with approval.

  “Not bad,” he says. “I’ll give you one more.”

  “I don’t want it,” I tell the male, my heart pounding hard from the exertion. I realize the truth of my words as I say them. I don’t want to strike someone who isn’t defending himself, who is no true threat to me. Malikai might get pleasure from such things, but I do not. “I need nothing more from you but the promise that you will not go near me or my quint ever again.”

  “You have it,” Malikai says smoothly, closing the distance to bring the dulled edge of his blade against my throat. “Now surrender and let’s end this.”

  “I surrender!” I yell, Malikai and I both freezing as we wait for the gong to end the battle.

  Nothing.

  No gong. No thickened air. No disembodied voice. As if no one heard.

  “Say it again,” Malikai says, circling me with his blade out. “The wards will pick up the word. Say it again.”

  “I surrender!” I yell, throwing my head back and squinting at the sun.

  Nothing. My heart quickens, my eyes finding Malikai’s equally confused stare. I throw my sword down and hold up my hands, shouting as loud as my burning lungs will allow. “I surrender! End the trial! I yield!”

  Malikai’s jaw tightens. “It appears surrender isn’t an option in this trial today. My apologies, human, but death it will have to be.”

  “You can win without killing me,” I protest, moving away from Malikai, my hands raised in the air. “Knock me down, draw blood, whatever it is that tells the arena the battle is over.”

  Malikai shakes his head. “I’d love to help you, I truly would. But not with those four immortals looking down at us like wolves who smell blood. The only way I am walking out of the Citadel alive is if their quint is so broken, they have no energy to spare for the likes of me. My life against yours. There isn’t much question as to which option I choose.”

  25

  Coal

  Coal crouched at the top of the bowl that was the arena, looking at Malikai and Lera circling each other below. Her slim, precious form against Malikai’s towering muscle. Strands of auburn hair that had fallen loose from her braid whipped about her face in the arena’s preternatural wind.

  Coal’s jaw tightened. The mortal was faltering, her movements too tentative and exploratory for true combat. Once Lera made it out of this tangle in one piece, Coal would have some lengthy conversation with her about when exactly the fight starts.

  At least Malikai was true to his word. With his trained eye, Coal could see the male’s show, the game he was putting on for the Citadel. No one truly expected the girl to do much, and the cat-and-mouse game he was leading her on was as good a diversion as any.

  Coal’s breath halted for a moment as Malikai lowered his guard and Lera missed her chance—didn’t make the kill strike like he’d told her to. It was too late to worry on that score, though, as Malikai was already moving and holding the blade to her throat. And then—

  Silence. There was nothing more coming from the bowl than there’d been earlier.

  Lera threw back her head.

  Nothing. Coal twisted to River, whose own eyes were a wide, stormy gray.

  Down below, the mortal had tossed down her weapon, holding up her hands.

  “Leralynn surrenders,” River bellowed across the arena, his voice reaching to the stars themselves. “Stop the trial.”

  “You can’t surrender on her behalf,” Autumn said gently, her voice hitching. “The Arena won’t allow it. It’s the ward. Someone tampered with the ward to keep it from triggering.”

  Light flashed beside Coal and suddenly Shade was in his wolf form, growling his defiance to the world. The wolf’s golden eyes fixed on the girl below, his body shifting his weight to his hind legs as—

  “Shade, no!” Coal bellowed, but it was too late.

  The animal leapt into the air, which looked to be the only obstacle between them and the trial below. But that was an illusion. It wasn’t air between them and Lera at all. It was magic. A fierce, violent magic, as old as time itself.

  Coal’s breath stopped as Shade’s paws hit the invisible shield that those magical wards had erected to keep away interference. A sound like a mosquito sizzling against a lantern sounded for a heartbeat, and then a flood of magic rushed over the wolf’s body.

  Shade’s howl pierced the air, his body twitching uncontrollably.

  Gritting his teeth, Coal extended himself over the arena’s invisible ceiling to haul Shade back onto the viewing platform. Pain exploded along Coal’s arms, the magic extracting its punishment for daring to interfere with the proceedings. The shocks ran through his spine, searing his muscles, arching his already bleeding back.

  Down below, Lera’s body spasmed too, her back arching so oddly and suddenly that even Malikai seemed taken aback.

  Hauling the unconscious wolf onto the platform, Coal crouched, his breath heaving as he watched the horror unfolding below. He rarely felt true fear anymore, not when he was awake. But now, seeing Lera a hairbreadth from losing her life, Coal’s heart raced so quickly, he could barely think.

  Down below, the mortal’s left arm twitched.

  Coal’s gaze cut to his own limb. The elbow that had been in direct contact with the wards the longest was still spasming like a deranged snake.

  “Lera used my magic during the first trial,” River said, grabbing Autumn’s attention. “If I rupture the damn earth from here to the far wall—”

  “You were within arm’s reach during the trial,” Autumn said, shaking her head. “And Shade was flush against her yesterday. Given your failure with her in the practice arena, I’m confident that both strength of magic and proximity are required.”

  Coal’s chest tightened. “Not with me,” he heard himself say, already rising to his feet. His heart thundered but he turned to the petite female. “She can feel me at a distance.”

  Autumn’s brow creased. “I don’t understand.”

  Coal’s fists tightened. “She can feel me at a distance. When I’m in . . . distress, she knows. As if my fears penetrate into her. I just saw it—she flinched when I reached over the barrier and reacted again to the shocks in my arm. It’s my magic she’s latching on to, isn’t it?”

  Autumn nodded slowly, her intelligent eyes sorting through information. “Your magic, unlike River’s, is turned inward. So, yes, if Lera is somehow connecting with you through your fear, then she may be brushing against your magic while she is there. Reacting to it.”

  Coal swallowed. “If she can taste my fear when I’m trying very hard to block it, then would my surrendering to it strengthen Lera’s connection to me? Give her better access to my magic?”

  “It is possible,” Autumn admitted.

  Possible. That was enough. Coal turned to River, gripping the commander’s wide eyes. “I need you to trigger every bloody memory I have of Mors,” Coal said, holding out his wrists as his heart pounded. “Bind me and give no quarter. And then . . . and then don’t let me bloody kill you, because I’m going to fight like hell itself.”

  26

  L
era

  I’m unarmed, unable to surrender, and trapped with an immortal warrior who believes the only solution to his current problem lies in ending my life. My eyes flick to the top of the arena, where the blinding sun blocks my view of the spectators. But I know my males are there. Watching. Knowing that I’m trying.

  Malikai comes at me with his dull sword raised, his hard face set with the determination of a farmer catching livestock for dinner. No anger, no regret, no emotion at all besides an ironclad certainty that in a moment I’ll be dead. The weapon in his hand is nearly as big as I am, his large hands powerful enough to snap me in two.

  I dive to the ground. The sand meets me, rising into the air and filling my mouth as I roll over my right shoulder and get to my feet on Malikai’s other side. My breath quickens, my muscles tight and quivering. I wipe my forearm across my face, spitting out sand.

  The male snarls, his previously emotionless eyes now flashing with excitement, like a predator who’s caught the first scent of prey. Bloody stars. Throwing the sword aside, Malikai lunges for me, and this time there is no escape as he pins my back to the ground, his powerful thighs straddling my heaving sides.

  I buck beneath him, digging my shoulders into the sand as I struggle to make space and slither free. Malikai’s weight is a stone atop me, making each breath a hard-fought chore. Unable to buck the male off, I curl my hand into a fist and swing at his nose.

  Which I know Coal said is stupid, but I don’t remember why.

  I have my answer in the next heartbeat as Malikai catches my arm easily and barks a laugh. Fishing for my other wrist, the male transfers both to one steel fist. “Might as well put on a show, don’t you think?” he tells me, his white canines flashing in the sunlight. Before I can respond, Malikai’s hips lift for a moment of breath-permitting bliss as he twists my trapped wrists, forcing me to roll. To turn face-down in the sand. Then his weight settles back atop me. “Your males are watching, you know. What do you think they are making of this?” He laughs, stretching my trapped wrists out above my head.