6. If I Went, at Least I’d Go with a Stellar View
6. IF I WENT, AT LEAST I’D GO WITH A STELLAR VIEW
Today was the most crucial day of my life so far, and what I’d do with it wasn’t of my own choosing. So little had been since Dougal delivered me to the royals of Embermere. None of the many thousands of hours of my purposeful training were sufficient to prepare me for this fight when my opponent could use magic, skills I didn’t doubt he possessed.
Lennox’s gang of bullies was dwindling, as was the number of competitors remaining in the Gladius Probatio. I faced one of them now, and though he was armed to the teeth as I was, he hadn’t drawn a single weapon.
Which could only mean he didn’t need one, for he had a tool at his disposal that was far more powerful.
It had been just the day before that the ground had opened to swallow men whole, yet there was no sign of that ominous, swirling pit. However, the pretense of the opening days of the Fae Heir Trials was absent. The ground was flat and bare dirt. No artifice to disguise the fact that here fae came to fight for an unworthy queen and perhaps to die.
The woman had surely instructed my opponent, a viscount of one of the clans I hadn’t registered, too focused on what I might need to do to survive, to kill me. To take off my head and free her from the inconvenience of my existence before anyone else had a chance to discover I was a direct descendant of a monarch.
That I might indeed be a champion of the fae after all. If I chose to be… If only I survived this match and whatever followed…
When Pru first came to get me this morning, I’d been groggy and sluggish from a lack of restful sleep. Now, tension fluttered throughout my body, making me so alert that I pushed away the distractions with ease.
If the stands had been packed before, fae were crowded into the bleachers now so that there was barely a sliver of space between them. With their increased numbers, they were even more vocal, crying out for violence and retribution—though it was no longer clear whom they were asking to be punished. Every shout of support for me—and there were several—was swiftly silenced. Still, more came, a smattering of evidence that rebellion brewed within the fae of the mirror world. Their discontent crossed the lines of social classes and clans.
I tuned it all out as much as possible.
Even Rush, whom I hadn’t had the chance to speak with before royal guards shoved me into the fighting arena. I felt his stare on me but didn’t look. I had to hope there’d be a chance for looking later. An opportunity to explore whatever it was that brewed between us.
If the queen believed slinging me into the ring without time to adjust to my situation would unsettle me, she was wrong. The fight already thrummed through my veins. Zako had taught me to thrive when faced with the unanticipated. “Routine is the death of sharpness,” he’d said. No one instance of his training had been like another, and he’d delighted at throwing new obstacles at me when I might least expect them.
The viscount bully was taller and brawnier than the other two men I’d fought. Like every other contestant, he was fit and muscled. With a large head and square jaw, he looked as if he might snack on glass in his spare time.
Even so, that kind of expertise, strength, and edge? That, I could handle. Zako and Xeno, my only regular sparring partners, were highly skilled fighters. They defended dragons , the most ferocious beasts in existence. The men had to be tough.
But magic … how did I defend against that?
Something had happened to me when I’d been well on my way to dying yesterday and I’d collapsed onto the ground. But what? I felt little different from before, though I had healed faster than usual. The wound from when Lennox stabbed me was a slim line of shiny new pink flesh. In twenty-four hours, I’d recovered entirely from a lethal injury.
I had been dying. I’d felt it down to the marrow of my bones. And yet here I was, as strong as ever. A tingling sped across the entirety of my body, lending me hope that the land’s power might come to my aid again.
Zako had taught me better: “Don’t count on anything outside of yourself to save you. The only one you can count on is you.” Regardless, I couldn’t help but lean into an inkling of hope.
The unisus Azariah was announcing the start of the match, and while he spoke I glanced up at the royal balcony despite my resolve not to. Behind repaired glass, the queen sat on her throne, the dragon head footstool noticeably absent. Those cold eyes of hers were pinned on me. A step behind her, on his own throne, my father was also looking at me. Ivar, Braque, Dashiell, and some courtiers busied themselves beyond the monarchs.
I zeroed in on her eyes alone. I registered the murder in them, smiled at her though I didn’t truly feel the arrogance I was portraying, and felt grim satisfaction when she scowled at my false confidence.
Azariah was winding down his introduction to the bout, so I returned my attention to the man opposite me. His muscles already bulged with his intent, though he still hadn’t picked up a weapon.
“Elowyn,” Rush whisper-shouted from the dugout.
I ignored him. Now wasn’t the time. It would have been nice to confer with him before my match, but the queen had ensured that wouldn’t happen.
Another time, he called my name.
Teeth gritting, I risked a glance his way. He was surrounded by Hiroshi, West, Ryder, and Roan, all of whom wore a similar severe, concerned expression as he.
“Selwin’s magic stuns you.”
Selwin growled. “Mind your own damn fucking business, Vega.”
“Elowyn is my business,” Rush snapped before addressing me again, now more urgently. The match was mere seconds away from starting. “He throws small bursts, but if they touch you anywhere, you’ll be down long enough for him to kill you.”
“Shut it,” Selwin snarled, “or I’ll do to you what I’m gonna do to her.”
“Fighters, begin!” Azariah announced, his voice booming throughout the stands.
Selwin grinned maniacally, brought his hands to either side of his body, and faced them toward me.
A flare like lightning crackled in the flat of his palms.
Knees partially bent, I bounced on the balls of my feet and watched energy build in Selwin’s palms. I hoped there’d be some kind of warning sign before he launched his magical attack at me. I didn’t know how fast his magic might travel, only that it would be unbound by the limitations of the physical body .
It was an unfair battle—not that the queen cared. She’d be counting on it.
I registered that Selwin had thrown an arc of light at me only after my body was moving.
I dove to one side, hit the ground at a roll, and was back up on my feet before he could cast another. But he didn’t wait an instant before hurling at me the energy he had ready and waiting in his other hand.
Again, I dove and rolled, but his strike hit the ground an inch away from where my foot had just been.
Way too close.
Back to standing, I spun toward him, my gut sinking when I noticed the crackling magic already two-thirds of the way charged in both hands. I wouldn’t be able to keep this up. I needed a plan better than dodging his attacks while I ran around the arena. Sooner or later, he’d catch me.
But I had no better idea.
On instinct alone, I crouched to touch the earth at my feet. It responded to me with a sizzling surge.
That alone wouldn’t protect me.
Another arc of lightning zoomed toward me.
I jumped out of the way. As the flash caught the edge of my boot, searing a hole through the wompa leather, I caught movement out of the corner of my eye.
A furious Rush straining to reach me, his friends holding him back.
The next strike came.
Again my instincts saved me. I leapt out of the way a split second before Selwin’s magic crashed to the ground I’d just occupied, opening a small crater the size of my head.
Damn .
Unsure what else to do, and needing the time and space to think that I didn’t have, I tore off at a full sprint, zigging and zagging away from Selwin.
Our audience erupted with sneers, cackles, and laughter. A single call of, “Use your magic!” reached me. Thanks, buddy. As if I hadn’t already thought of that…
Magic was a given with the fae. Never before had I so greatly resented the fact that my mother was a human. If I’d been a full-blooded fae, I would have had magic.
A better chance at survival.
To my right, the ground erupted in a blast of dirt. I veered left, then zagged again. I was nearly beneath the royal balcony when the whistle of magic zipped behind me—too close.
Without thinking about where I’d land, I leapt?—
A grip like that of the viscount himself slammed against my calf, followed immediately after by a burning pain as if the very sun were wrapping around my leg.
Shoulder first, I smacked into the ground, the impact so jarring that for several terrifying moments my vision blurred. When it returned to normal, I discovered myself looking at the giant frogs. My head was turned to the side, pebbles digging into the skin of my forehead, as the frogs blinked at me over and over again with their huge, impassive eyes.
The miniature settlements housed within the spheres they carried were as close as I’d ever get to exploring the rest of the mirror world.
Gasps and cries of alarm were crisp and thunderous behind me—strange. And Azariah, out of my field of view, exclaimed, “Ladies and gentlemen, critters and beasts, the Lady Elowyn, our surprise upstart, is down. Things aren’t looking good for her. Viscount Selwin Hewett is on his way to dispatch with her now.”
Dispatch with her . What a gentle euphemism for what was to come.
The ground became inexplicably warm as I lay upon it, but I was stuck to it, unable to move beyond some mild twitching. I could breathe and blink, but not even my lips would coordinate sufficiently for me to curse my executioner.
I refused to beg for my life.
Not when it was the queen who ultimately held it in her hands.
I wouldn’t waste my final breaths to give her the satisfaction of seeing me plead.
May dragon fire burn her until she’s nothing but ashes. May she spend her afterlife in the Etherlands paying for her sins . It would take an eternity for her essence to come back into balance after all the cruelty she’d unleashed on the fae who depended on her.
Boots prowled into my view … and then Selwin’s bo xy face as he crouched low so I could make out his wickedly pleased grin.
In my mind, I thrashed and broke free of his hold on me, smacked the smug smile right off his ugly mug.
In reality, I grunted a few times and tensed as if I were having a seizure.
He laughed, the blunt sound instantly making my list of least favorite things to hear.
“Don’t bother trying to move,” he said, entirely too pleased with himself. “My stuns last a good ten minutes, and by then … well … you won’t be around to count anymore.” He laughed as he fingered the pommel of his sword.
When he glanced up to the viewing stand above us, his smile widened—two hideous worms for lips—and I knew the queen had officially sealed my fate.
I’d die without learning who my mother was. Without ever knowing love or what it felt like to have a man inside me, connecting to me in a way that was transcendent.
I’d never know the defense of a father.
The king of Embermere would stand by and watch my execution. I was no longer a threat to my opponent. Yet I’d still die as if I were.
I’d leave this world without saving Xeno or Saffron, without fulfilling my promises to Pru and Reed to become their friends.
Without kissing those lips of Rush’s again…
The telltale shliiing of metal against its sheath rang out into the noisy background that no longer separated itself into distinct sounds.
I closed my eyes and recalled what it felt like when that soft, full mouth met mine. The man kissed me as if he intended to consume me. As if we’d come together until we’d lose sight of where we each started and ended.
Selwin couldn’t force open my eyes, and so I’d die in a lover’s embrace … even if it was only in my imagination. At least my time here had gifted me a small taste of what it might feel like to be loved.
Rush Vega, drake of Amarantos .
I loved him.
It made no sense, and there surely hadn’t been enough time to fall for the man who’d betray me in a heartbeat.
But my heart seemed sure regardless, so I’d take that sense with me out of this miserable existence. The queen could keep her world of tyranny, torment, and suffering. I surely didn’t want it.
Perhaps I’d meet up with Zako in the Etherlands. He had some major explaining to do.
Damn, I missed him.
My hearing was trained to pick up on the slightest movement of weapons. I registered the swing of Selwin’s blade up into the air behind him and still refused to look.
Perhaps it would be bolder to stare my killer head-on.
But Rush slipped his tongue into my mouth, and I recalled what it was like to pull his body flush against mine.
As far as final thoughts went, it was a great one?—
Arms with a brutal strength grasped me by the underarms and yanked me across the ground—and also from my reminiscence—rock and dirt scratching at my waist as my useless armor slid out of place. Fingers clenched my muscles too hard as I opened my eyes.
I stared straight up at the bulge Rush was so proud of and kept my attention there. I was no longer sure if I was about to die or not, but if I went, at least I’d go with a stellar view.