My chest heaves, and for the first time I wonder if I can make it. One challenge and I’ve failed. I have fifteen minutes to run three miles, and that includes crossing this now impossible cavern.
Shadow-vyrns use magic similar to my own. In my homeland, they live and breed in the caves between us and the human world. A distant cousin of mine made a name for himself by taming one.
The fae over the middle of the cavern seem to have noticed their predicament as the wire shudders, the red dot on the other end glow growing brighter.
The top wire goes slack with a pop, and the fae in the middle scream and scramble for balance. One of the fae falls into the pit with a horrifying scream.
“She’s melting it!” one of them yells. The red glow begins anew—the wire beneath their feet is next.
They can’t make it. Even if they sprinted, they wouldn’t make it to the other side before the rickety wire beneath them fell to the depths, taking them with it. They’re as good as dead. Unless...
There is only one way to make it across now, and if I’m going to do it, I may as well do it while I have the chance to take one or two of the helpless fae with me.
I sprint across the wire in front of me, getting as far as I can before the wire goes slack, the connection of the other end loosened. A chorus of screams echo through the canyon and I dive forward, past the careering fae and my form turns to shadow. I jerk, using the shadow-vyrns magic against them, and I jolt forward until I’m on the back of the closest one.
I don’t exactly have time to make friends with the creature, but darkness will calm it, and if it’s calm, I might be able to influence its movements with my magic.
It roars in anger, but my shadows cover its eyes, little stars twinkling soothingly. “It’s okay,” I whisper to it, and the creature’s muscles still. I pull my magic around the skin under its wing. I have just enough control to pitch the creature into a dive, towards the fae falling through black smoke.
I reach for a young fae and the dwarf as they free fall. I use my magic to influence my new wyvern pet, pulling his wings back to induce a quick dive, and using it to steer beneath the falling fae. The dwarf sees, eyes wide but stare determined and grips my shoulder the moment I’m in reach.
I groan as his fingers dig into the injured muscle, the pain potion not strong enough for this. I hold strong as he grips me and attempts to hold onto the smaller boy by the forearm, but he slips through his grasp and drops into the smoke below.
The dwarfish fae cries out but immediately pulls himself the rest of the way onto the creature, arms around my waist.
The wyverns around us gawk confused but quickly begin to turn on us, so I cover us both in darkness. This confuses them enough to allow me to push my pet’s wings up and down to rise above the cavern. We soar seamlessly through the air, not bothered by anyone. Even my wyvern seems content to be controlled by my soothing black magic.
“We should jump just before the edge,” my nameless friend shouts over the wind. “The creature can’t fly past the barrier.”
He points over my shoulder, and sure enough, there’s a slight glistening to the edge of the far cliff going high into the sky. That’s why the wyverns turned to new prey the moment the others reached the edge.
“We don’t have enough time!” The challenge ends in minutes. Ticking away. I don’t think we can run the last two miles and still make it. “Do you think we can go over it?” Maybe I could fly high enough.
“No!” he shouts. “Or they’d all be doing that.”
Shit. My heart pounds as we approach the barrier, I slow the creature so we have more time to think. “Go down!” he shouts in my ear. “Ram the cliff side as hard as you can manage and I’ll do the rest.”
Well, shit. If you say so, dude. I don’t have another plan so I follow his instructions. I flow extra soothing magic into my shadow-vyrn and I steer it straight down, taking every ounce of momentum I can obtain. I might die, I realize, as I crash the creature into the cliff side. We’ll be splattered onto the stone with nothing left to identify us.
But the stones on the cliff shudder, vibrating violently until a hole forms right where I’m aiming. No, not a hole. A tunnel.
I steer the shadow-vyrn straight into the dwarf made tunnel until blackness surrounds us. “You’ll have to tell me where to go from here!” I shout. Because all I can see is black, I have no idea where we’re going.
“Just fly straight,” he yells, annoyance clear in his tone. I consider being offended by his anger, but I realize he’s doing some big magic at the moment so he probably needs to concentrate.
We fly underground, a sheet of pitch-black shadows surrounding us. The wyvern’s wings graze stone, and he squawks in fear. “A little further!” the dwarf shouts.
I can hear the count down, dim and echoing. The crowd cheers above us—they have no idea we’re just below them.
“Thirty. Twenty-nine. Twenty-eight.”
“Go up!” he shouts. I obey, as stones fall around us, slamming into our skin. Dammit, now I could use some armor! The creature roars as a sharp boulder smashes into its shoulders and head, but he continues to move. Sunlight blasts us as we emerge from the ground only feet from the finish line arch.
“Ten. Nine.”
The crowd roars so loud at our appearance I can no longer hear the count. We’re moments away from losing.
I whip my magic against my creature’s wings, and he swerves right, straight through the arches.
“Two. One!”
We made it. Elation fills my being so intensely that my veil falls and the shadow-vyrn thrashes wildly at the champions standing at the finish line.
They scream and run from the panicking monster—not at all where he’s supposed to be. Fae soldiers run out to control the beast. I toss the veil back across his eyes, attempting to sooth him, but the roar of the crowds is enough to keep him thrashing in panic.
The dwarf jumps off his back as I steer the creature into the sky. I leap off once he’s about a hundred feet off the ground and land in a crouch before the crowd. I wince at the impact through my already pained body.
The crowd roars with excitement and disbelief as the shadow-vyrn soars back towards the cavern.
Rev
My mouth falls open as I watch the shadow-vyrn fly off, the dwarf and the betrayer safely on the ground past the archway. They join us in the winners’ circle.
Brielle’s expression matches my own. Fury. Disbelief. Everyone else is wide eyed and slack-jawed. Impressed.
Dammit!
How in the world did she do that? When Brielle melted the wire across the cavern, I thought there was no way anyone would follow us. We were already celebrating the defeat of the betrayer.
But here she is. In some ridiculous miracle.
She rode a damn shadow-vyrn! If I didn’t hate her, I’d be impressed too. Young fae everywhere are going to idolize her for this.
This is bad. This is so much worse than just her continuing in the competition. People are going to start liking her. That’s the worst thing that could happen.
I press my eyes closed as the announcements are made. Eight of us made it through the challenge. That’s just over half. Eight is even the number I anticipated—it’s just the wrong eight.
Six of the ruling fae courts. And two from the lesser courts. The dwarf and the betrayer. I ignore the names as I listen. Only two of the missing seven champions are alive. The girl trapped in the thorns and one lesser fae that was freed from the sandpit. Everyone else died there, almost all of them from the canyon.
Some of them don’t even have bodies to collect.
Two of them were my allies. Nante didn’t make it over the Canyon, and Brielle is teary eyed over that fact. I hardly knew the girl, so I try to hide that it doesn’t bother me so much. Crevin was the other ruling court champion to perish there. He was an acquaintance at most and he hadn’t declared an alliance so it’s not as much of a loss as it could be.
Honestly, I’m mor
e saddened by the girl whose name I still don’t know.
I look around, watching the faces of the courts around me. I scrunch my nose at the Shadow Court celebrating. Not that I can blame them. What she did was amazing, even if I hate her for it. I’ll turn their joy into acid the first chance I get.
Tears well in several eyes as I scan the crowds. I stop when I see a woman with black, white, and grey webs lining her ears and wrists. I approach the group slowly.
“Where are you going?” Rook asks. “I was planning to go drown my sorrows with a bottle of fire whiskey.”
“To see the Webbed Court. I’ll join you in a few.”
Brielle scoffs. “Why?”
“Because I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for her. And she’s not here because of me.”
Brielle rolls her eyes, mumbling something about a waste of time. I ignore her and continue on. I approach the Webbed Court, and they blink in shock as they stare at me. I bow slightly. “I’m sorry,” I tell the woman with spiders on her ears.
“Are you going to say that to all the courts that lost a champion?” Her eyes are narrowed, anger covering her pain.
“No. Only yours.”
Her eyebrows furrow. “Why?”
The crowds waited at the beginning and end of the trial; they didn’t see what happened between. She doesn’t know how her court’s champion died.
“Because we worked together against the shadow-vyrns. I wouldn’t have made it past them without her help.”
“And yet she died and you didn’t.”
I cast my eyes low. “I couldn’t save her. It happened too fast. But regardless of the outcome, I wanted you to know that I respect her. And in turn, your court for raising such a champion.”
Her head tilts as she considers me. Our courts are not at odds with one another, but there is always an underlying bitterness between the ruling courts and the lesser courts. Finally, the woman bows. “I am her mother, and she was my heir.”
I swallow, understanding. This is the current ruler of their court, and she was to be the next. Their loss was more than personal. It will weaken their court forever.
“I will honor her however I’m able.” She knows I am the next heir of my court, which means I will, someday, have the ability to use my influence for their benefit. Maybe by facilitating a strong marriage for their next ruler. Or simply by aligning with them during a conflict. I owe them a favor.
She nods, accepting my implied offer. And I turn in search of Brielle and Rook, ready to drown my sorrows along with them.
Caelynn
I shift off to the side of the arena, away from the crowds before my court can surround me. I have no desire to hear how amazing they think I am.
I’m relieved I made it through the challenge, but I don’t want to celebrate. I wouldn’t mind a comforting beverage before a bath and a long nap, but I don’t want to face those who treat me like a hero when I am anything but.
I scan the gathering crowds, each court surrounding their champions. Pushing through the crowds, I listen carefully to the announcer, naming all of the successful contestants.
“Tyadin of the Crumbling Court.”
Good, now I have a name for him. The cheer for him is a like a battle cry, echoing over the arena. I smile as I find him among his countrymen, some stalky and hair covered as he and some clean shaven, fair and slender as the stereotypical fae. They laugh and cheer, and I smile just watching the exchange.
He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.
Many of the entrants today died. I think that’s a sobering reminder for the remainder. These trials are not a game.
They very well may be sacrificing their lives in order to make whatever point they’re trying to make. But together, my dwarf-fae friend—Tyadin—and I have certainly made one. We are the only lesser courts to make it past the first challenge.
I bite my lip and then turn away, shifting through the scattered outer crowds mostly filled with the mourning courts. Some of the stronger courts are those who’ve lost their promising challengers. But it’s the lesser courts who mourn the most. For some, it was a major loss.
I pass a group of Webbed Courters, who shift to allow me plenty of room. I hold my head high, face blank as I march towards the estate.
A snowy-white owl glides over the stands, squawking. She finds me as I dip into an empty nook behind the stands. She swerves down expertly, and she lands on my shoulder, her wing tangling in my hair awkwardly.
“Well, I was going to compliment you on your new flying skills until that debacle,” I say, trying to pull my hair free from her talons and gently set her wing back to her body.
She shivers and clucks softly in my ear.
“I’m glad to see you too,” I whisper. She is the only one I want to be around after today.
I’m certain I’ll be the first to our rooms, which means I might actually get a chance to bathe without much conflict arising.
I jog up the stairs towards the estate, where several fae are scrambling to do last minute set up for the upcoming party.
Several fae nod in my direction as I pass, and I wince, unsure what the sudden vague respect is for. Rebel sympathizers? I don’t know, I don’t think I want to know.
RAVEN SOARS HIGH OVERHEAD as I enter, and I make sure to stop in my room to meet her. She’s already on the windowsill, waiting for me.
I wave my hand, and she pops back into human form, clunking to the ground awkwardly. “Ow.”
I smirk.
“Why do my feet feel so weird now?”
“Getting used to your bird form, huh?” I wink. “Come on,” I tell her, already pushing my way back out the door. She scurries after me.
“Where are we going?” she whispers breathlessly. “Can I come out here?”
“Most of the time, no. But right now, the other contestants should be out of the way for at least an hour. I figure it’s the best possible time for us to risk a bath.”
“A bath?” Her eyes grow large, her lips twisting into a pleased smile.
“Come on!” I rush through the opening, and strip my clothes instantly, hopping into the communal soapy water.
Raven stops, staring at the room. Basically a cave with a massive hot tub covered in pink and purple bubbles. “This is how fae bathe?”
“Not all of us, but it’s an old tradition.”
“The water is going to be disgusting with you in it.” She wrinkles her nose.
“Oh hush,” I say, subtly glancing down at my dirt and blood covered arms. “It’s magically cleaned and heated. Totally sanitary.”
She purses her lips.
I flop back, splashing water and floating there for a moment, the bubbles barely covering my most intimate parts. Raven swallows.
“Come on. This might be your only chance at a fae bath.”
She sighs and sheepishly strips down to her underwear and climbs in. She shivers as the warm water covers up to her shoulders.
“What is this stuff?” She holds the bubbles up to her nose, sniffing. “Lavender?”
“Close. It’s probably the fae equivalent.” I shrug.
“So, tell me about today,” she says, drifting closer. “What the hell was that?”
“What?”
“All of it? Those guys tying you up and setting those things on you. Then those dragonish creatures? You RODE one. No one else even tried that.”
I shrug. “Well, I didn’t have much choice. The wires connecting the two sides were severed.”
“So, you just thought: if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em?”
I chuckle. “Something like that.”
“And the popular kids trying to torture you to death?”
I shrug. “I already told you about that.”
“Barely,” she mutters. “They’re really going to go out of their way to kill you?”
I nod slowly. “I knew I wouldn’t have any friends here.”
“What about the hairy one? He’s your friend now, right?”
She dips her head back, sudsing up her hair. “Yeah.” She bites her lip, watching me as I attempt to scrub the sticky blood and mud off my arms.
“Want some help?” she asks, her eyes pinned to my shoulder. I watch her carefully, but she schools her features, giving away no emotion.
I nod slowly and then shift to the side of the tub and grab a red rag from a basket near the wall.
She dips the towel into the water, and I turn as she gently pulls it across my skin. “Is even that going to be enough?” she says quietly. “Is this whole thing... really worth it?”
I bite my lip. “I don’t know.”
She doesn’t respond to that, just cups some water, trickling it over where she recently scrubbed.
“That first challenge was exceptionally intense, but it was designed that way,” I say.
“Meaning?”
“They invited all the courts to enter, even ones they don’t want to win. So they can weed out the weaklings as quickly as possible. It’ll make the rest of the challenges simpler.”
“They don’t want some to win?”
I shrug. “The queen seems to be intent on the strongest winning, no matter who they are, but that usually means the ruling courts. They’re the most powerful, with strong blood lines and magic and influence. They’ll want to make sure, if nothing else, a lesser court doesn’t win.”
“Why?”
“Politics. The powerful courts want to keep their power. If a lesser court win or show themselves as stronger in anyway, it destabilizes their claim to that power.”
“Ew. I hate politics.”
“I’m pretty sure everyone does.”
“What about you? Are you from a lesser court?”
I nod. “Yes, my court has been cast out for a few hundred years.”
Trial of Thorns (Wicked Fae Book 1) Page 7