I sigh. “Because this trial is about more than politics.”
Her eyes flare, the fire popping along with her. “What does that mean?”
I stand, facing the fire, my hands clasped behind my back. “They want the best fae to win. It doesn’t matter what that means for our political world. Feuds and power struggles no longer matter. Our very survival is at risk. That is what natters.”
I bite my tongue from continuing, as my father’s harsh words come back to me. Words I don’t want to recount to my allies. To my competition.
My weakness. My father says that’s the reason they’ve opened the competition to the lesser courts—the High Court’s heirs are not strong enough. If I were indisputably strong enough to lead, they’d have just picked me as the savior. They’d have chosen me as the High Court heir.
But the queen isn’t impressed with her options, so they devised a competition to prove ourselves.
They let her into the competition because I wasn’t good enough.
It’s bull, of course. My father will just find any reason to put me down.
Brielle doesn’t respond, but her eyes watch me closely. I pretend not to notice how they linger on my abdomen. Her mate has been dead for over a decade. I cannot blame her for noticing other males.
“You haven’t seen the scourge at its height,” I tell her. “I have. I’ve seen what we’re facing. I’ve seen what will happen to our people if we don’t stop it.”
“And? You’d let your brother’s murderer become a hero in order to save us?”
“No. I’d let you all burn to get my revenge,” I admit. At least, to this, she smiles. “I am calm not because I don’t care but because I don’t believe there is even the slightest chance the shadow witch gets within a mile of the winners circle. She’s weak—did you notice the color of her eyes?”
She purses her lips. “She’s from the Shadow Court. I assumed her eye color is black like her soul.”
I smirk. “Shadow Court eyes are sometimes dark but always with a flicker or border of light. Flecks of gold or a rim of silver. Dull eyes, even to them, still only means one thing.”
Rook stands, a wicked smile crossing his face. “She’s weak.”
I nod. Even if she did have power strong enough to compete—she’s out of practice after living as a human for ten years.
“She’s no one. She’ll fail quickly and easily. And I’m calm because I have a plan.”
“Oh,” Nante says, leaning forward to hear the gossip. She’s the Frost Court champion, but she’s weak. The only reason she’ll make it far in the competition is because of her friends—us. “What is it? It’s not like you can just kill her.”
Rook’s eyebrows flick up. “Historically, many fae have died during the trials.”
“Indeed they have,” I say low, watching the flames dance. “I find it unlikely this girl makes it through these challenges with her life intact.”
Caelynn
“You have nothing to prove to us, Caelynn.”
I blink and look up to the elderly fae woman. The Shadow Court queen, Queen of the Whisperwood—my home. She is small, feeble, her face sallow, skin thick and scaly. She is nearly five hundred years old and beloved by our people. But her power is limited. We are a weak court.
“You are a hero to us. As only a child you defeated a foe much stronger than yourself. You are what we all aim to be.”
I shiver. They aim to be murderers?
Yes, I killed the heir to a rival court. I made the highest of fae courts fall into despair. Made them turn their eye to our lesser court. I killed an unkind fae that would have made an awful king.
But I killed a fae when I didn’t need to. If I’d known why, what possible purpose his death served, perhaps I wouldn’t hate myself so fully. Perhaps if I hadn’t known what it would cost me. Perhaps if it had been my own choice.
But none of those things are true. I lost a future. I lost a people. I lost myself. For someone else’s gain.
So my people, my queen, they look at me with respect. With appreciation. And I hate every second of it.
I so much more enjoy the hatred streaming from those nameless faces. The sneers. The jabs. Those I deserve. And once the pain comes, I will relish it. I will thrive in the dark despair that has become synonymous with my name.
I am destruction.
“Thank you.” I don’t mean it, but I know there is no point in correcting her. No point in telling her how much I hate myself for what I’ve done. The act they so cherish as putting our court on the map is the one thing I hate most about my life.
The fact that I liked it—the moment his life seeped from his body, the rush of power that filled me—makes me hate myself even more.
“I am sorry your family couldn’t make it. They had other... engagements.”
I hadn’t asked about them. I have no siblings, and my parents are less impressed with my actions than the rest of my people. Especially considering, along with my banishment, I was forced to be disinherited, leaving my now barren mother without even the possibility of an heir. Never will my ancestors have another queen.
I’ve doomed them even as I lifted my court out of obscurity. Ironic.
A large male fae walks into the room, his chin lifted high.
“Brax here will show you to your room in the estate. You’ll be on the same floor as the other champions. Which I understand may cause some... interesting situations. All of the champions know the cost if they attack you outside of the challenges—they will be put to death without trial. None would risk it. But even so, to be safe, I am appointing you a guard who will be stationed outside your room at all times.”
A single guard? What exactly will that do? The champions are supposed to be the strongest of all the fae in the land. Of course many were picked for political posturing when others are really stronger, but Rev and his allies? They hate me and would easily overpower any single guard my court could provide. No, the High Queen’s warning is my only saving grace here. Because those two wouldn’t risk their lives or their positions in order to openly kill me.
For that, they’ll wait until the trials to begin.
A bird squawks, and I turn my head, grimacing.
Its beautiful white feathers ripple as it soars over us, circling like a bird of prey.
“Friend of yours?” The queen asks, and I cross my arms.
I take in a long breath. The queen isn’t a threat, but what if someone else has made the connection? The owl dips down and lands on the banister beside us. “Shoo!” I tell it, swatting the creature away. It screeches in annoyance and flies away.
Brax chuckles, an eyebrow raised.
“Do you require anything else before I retire?” The queen asks.
I swallow. “No, thank you.” I bow, my light hair swaying toward the ground as I do.
“I am looking forward to watching you defeat your enemies tomorrow. You will be great. I’m certain of it!”
I smile. That is the only thing I can agree with her on. I will be great.
Strategy may push me to conceal my true power as long as possible to keep the entrants guessing. No need to make my target any larger.
But by the end of the trials—I will be remembered for my power.
If the queen wants a show, I’ll certainly give her one.
I MARCH TO THE WINDOW the moment the door to my chambers shuts behind me. I wave my hand out the window, and the snowy owl lands on my arm, talons scraping against my skin. I wince, but pull her inside.
I twist my neck, cracking it even as I flick my wrist. With a quick sizzle and pop, the bird explodes into the form of a slight female.
I leap onto the bed as her human squawking begins. “What the hell is wrong with you?” Raven squeals. “A bird? A BIRD!?”
My lips curl into a smile. “Hello, Raven. It’s so good to see you again.”
“I asked you to bring me to the fae realm, but I didn’t mean as a flipping BIRD.”
“It was the only way.
” I shrug. “I couldn’t just bring a human along for the ride. Do you know how many people want me dead? Anything attached to me is in danger, which is why you need to stay away from me in public. And for God’s sake stop squawking everywhere you go!”
I couldn’t leave Raven behind, not when she looked at me with those big puppy-dog eyes, begging me to take her along. When her bottom lip trembled, I was reminded of the last time her mother relapsed. She nearly died from the overdose.
Raven found her mother unconscious, called 911, then me. I can’t unsee the state she was in. Curled into a ball, shivering. Eyes red.
I vowed I’d do anything to stop her from feeling that way again.
So, when I told her I was going to the fae realm she begged me not to leave her—I couldn’t do it.
“You couldn’t even make me a raven?” she shakes her head. “My name is Raven, and you turn me into an OWL? What the hell is that about?”
“Quiet your voice,” I scold her, attempting to hide a grin. “No one can know you’re here. Humans aren’t allowed to return to the human world—ever—once they see this place. So, if you still want a regular life, you’ll remain quiet.”
She opens her mouth to respond, but I beat her to it. “Unless you’d rather go back home now. I can’t promise you’ll be completely safe here, there are dangers everywhere. So just say the word, and I’ll take you back.”
She heaves a huge, dramatic sigh. “I don’t want to go home.”
“Even if it means being a bird during the day?”
She purses her lips in a silly pout. “Fine. But seriously, can I be an actual raven instead? Those things are so cool.”
I smile, warmth growing in my chest. “I chose an owl because it’s less likely to be linked to me. Ravens are the bird of my people. If they see you as a raven, they may think you’re my spy, and you’d become a target.”
Raven stumbles over to the bed and flops down on her back, hair flying.
“Maybe I’ll change you into a raven later. Changing your form so no one notices a pattern isn’t a bad idea. But you’re going to have to wait until at least after the first trial.”
“Fine.” She sighs.
“Do you forgive me for turning you into an owl?” I roll to face her.
“At least you didn’t leave me behind.” There she goes, looking at me like that again. Adoration that awakens me and terrifies me at the same time.
“As long as you want to be with me, I won’t leave you.” I’m desperate for friends as much as she is. “Unless... unless you’ll inevitably die if you stay. This place is... harsh. And if I win, you cannot enter the Schorchedlands with me.”
“Why?” she whispers, turning her dark brown eyes to me. Our faces are only inches apart. I smile as I meet her soft eyes. I’m quiet for a long while. She’s nearly an adult in the human world, but she’s still so young. Innocent. Lovely. She deserves so much more from life than she’s been given.
“Besides the fact that it’s basically fae hell? Full of decay and evil spirits of ancient and powerful fae?” I turn my gaze back to the ceiling.
“Yes, besides that.”
“Because only one person can enter and return. That would include a human masquerading as an owl.”
“So, if I followed you, I’d never be able to leave that place?”
I pause. “No, you would.”
I watch her eyebrows scrunch up in confusion.
“I wouldn’t,” I clarify. “I wouldn’t leave you there.”
She swallows. The Schorchedlands won’t be pleasant, but I know I’ll end up there eventually. My fate as a wraith has been inevitable for several years. So, if it was between me and her? This beautiful young woman who hasn’t had a chance at life? I would choose her without hesitation every time.
“You’ll come back, though, right?”
“Yes, I’ll come back.”
“So, who’s that guy?” Her voice leaps, full of energy and life once again.
“Which one?”
“THE one. Come on. The one who came to you all smoldering on that balcony. The one who watched you the whole meeting today.”
“The one who threatened to make my life miserable and implied he’d kill me?”
“Yup, that one.”
My lip ticks up into a half smile, but there’s no life in it. No light. That’s a damned loaded question if I ever heard one.
“I heard the others call him Rev. He’s could rev my engine any time.”
I snort, uncharacteristic laughter bubbling up in my chest.
She chuckles alongside of me and I thank God for Raven, not for the first time, and not for the last, I’m sure. Every moment I’m with her, she pulls me out of my own despair. I don’t think she even realizes she does it.
She continues giggling, and I can’t stop smiling as I watch her, the life inside of her glowing in a way only I can see. Here, in this realm, she’s dim and lacking because she holds no magic. But I see the truth that’s more than physical. Raven is bright.
“It’s true.” She shrugs. “But seriously, who is he?”
I take in a long breath. My moment of joy dies too quickly as the acid of reality swirls back through my stomach.
“His name is Reveln,” I say flatly. All laughter gone. “He hates me, and those threats weren’t idle. He’s going to make my time here torture.”
“Why?” She sits up, watching my expression.
“Because I deserve it.”
“Stop it. No you don’t!”
“I killed his brother.”
She’s quiet for a long while, watching me. Studying me. “How? Like a car accident?”
“No.” I sit up, my back facing her. “Like I shoved a dagger into his chest and watched until his life left him.”
I don’t have the courage to look at her expression. Will she hate me like the rest of them when she realizes what I am? Will she fear me? She knew I’d done something bad to be banished from the fae realm, but I’d never told her what. I didn’t want to.
I didn’t want it to change the way she sees me once she knew I was a murderer.
“I don’t understand,” she whispers.
“It’s a long story, okay?” I stand, walking to the window looking out over the world I’d lost that day.
“How long ago? How old were you? How old was he?” She’s trying to rationalize it. But the truth is, it doesn’t really matter how or why. It doesn’t matter that he deserved it.
I did it.
My hands ended someone’s life.
“Over a decade ago. I was sixteen. He was thirty-nine—which for fae is adult, but still very young.”
“Was he bad?”
“Yes. But that’s not why I did it.”
“Then why?”
“Because I had to.”
Rev
Despite my calm demeanor yesterday, the moment the sun set the anxiety surfaced.
I wasn’t able to relax for even a moment last night. My muscles continued to clench, and my head ached, keeping me awake for hours until I finally gave up on sleep and sat in the common room next to the roaring fire. I stared at the flickering red flame, sunken into my new favorite cushioned chair until dawn. I wonder if Brielle sent her comforting magic to the fire place to keep it going so strongly all night.
“Rev, you awake?” Rook waves a hand in front of my face.
I blink into focus. “What?”
“I’ve been talking to you for five minutes. You must have been sleeping with your eyes open.”
I shake the fog from my mind. “Yeah. Didn’t sleep much last night.”
“I told you, you should have taken a sleeping draft. You’ll be hurting during today’s challenge.”
“I’ll be fine,” I rub my face. I’ll be forced to run entirely on adrenaline and magic but I have no doubts in my ability.
I can’t keep up with that for all five challenges, but today, I’ll make it through just fine. “I’ll take you up on it for the next challenge.”
>
“Good.” He nods sharply. “And with any luck, that witch won’t be here to bother us anymore.”
I sigh.
“Anyway, as I was saying.” Rook plops onto the couch beside me. “How about a run? We have two hours before the banquet, and I wouldn’t mind starting off the day with a good workout.”
“That sounds perfect.”
“She came by not long ago,” Rook says lightly. “I gave her a good glare. I thought you were just ignoring her, but now I wonder if you were just too out of it to even notice.”
My shoulders deflate. “Where did she go?”
He shrugs. “For a workout like us, I’d guess. Maybe we’ll see her out there.” He flicks his eyebrows up.
“Save it for the challenge.” I roll my shoulders.
“Come on, don’t you think getting in her head a bit is a good idea? Make her fear us. We don’t need to kill her to make her regret her choice to come here. A little champion intimidation is not frowned upon.”
I purse my lips. “All right.” I nod. “If we see her, we’ll make our message loud and clear.”
Rook’s lips curl into a cruel smile. I’m one part grateful to have friends this hateful and bloodthirsty, and one part terrified. Remind me never to get on their bad side.
Caelynn
I run through the winding trail around the Flickering estate. The trees here have permanently deep-golden leaves that hang down like weeping willows. The water is clear, the stone below a deep red, making the rippling water of the lake shores look like varying types of flame. It’s beautiful, if not intimidating. And of course, fitting for the Flickering Court.
Sweat drips down my temple, my thighs roar in protest, but I don’t stop moving until the pain becomes one with my body. I don’t stop running until my mind stops whirling.
I welcome the discomfort. I enjoy the sharp bite of wind on my tear streaked cheeks. All emotion must be dealt with before the trials begin. They cannot see my weakness. I won’t let them.
Trial of Thorns (Wicked Fae Book 1) Page 3