Fae Champion (Royals of Embermere #2)

20. Give ‘im Dragonfire, Lassie

20. GIVE ‘IM DRAGONFIRE, LASSIE

Now that I was no longer under the guise of Zinnia but could overtly be myself, Pru escorted me to the arena through the vast palace and then across its grounds instead of through the cramped, dark tunnels. Her company wasn’t required, thanks to the handful of guards—clothed in the king’s forest green—who shadowed my every move. Indeed, I feared that Pru accompanying me out in the open, walking a mere half step behind me, was sufficient reason for the queen to punish her. In my many weeks here, I’d never seen a goblin walking next to a noble. They were only ever scuttling here and there to do their bidding before vanishing until they were next needed—only barely more visible than the human servants, whom I’d still never seen.

But the goblin walked with her head held high, vibrating with an underlying defiance that both inspired and terrified me. The reprieve from the many severed ears and eyes that I’d enjoyed in my chambers was no more. Along with the band of guards, three ears and two eyes floated closely above our group, making it so that I couldn’t blatantly warn Pru, not even with a hushed whisper, about the danger she presumably already understood anyway.

Many times I’d wished Pru would be bolder, shuck the weight of the constant threat of the queen’s cruelty, and more fully enjoy the existence she’d been dealt. Now that she was doing it, I yearned for the “hurry, hurry, or it’s off with our heads” version of her, the unease now a constant simmer bubbling through my veins.

I’d only just made friends here. I couldn’t bear the thought of something bad happening to any of them.

When we neared the arena, even more horses and their carriages were lined up beyond the entrance. Again, there were the horses coated in scales like dragons, magnificent beasts, along with a few horses with fur, still powerful and beautiful. But now several scaled horses had wings pulled tightly against their flanks, the appendages membranous, thin yet ferociously strong, the same color as their scales—identical to dragon wings. I’d never so much as heard of these kinds of creatures before. How could they share so many qualities with the dragons when the beasts never mated beyond their own species, a fact I knew for certain from living with the dragon protectors of Nightguard? I couldn’t shake the feeling that I wouldn’t like the answer.

Inside the coliseum, more fae were crammed in than the previous days. Practically every visible surface had someone perched on it. The royal parapet had grown in size—the dragon head footstool noticeably absent—and several more viewing balconies had cropped up around the stands to accommodate what had to be the favored courtiers.

The decor was even more opulent than before. Where the gushing waterfalls had lined the walls of the stands, first with water, then with crystals, a continuous stream of flowing rainbow light flowed down the surfaces now. The giant frogs, too, wore skins in the brilliant colors of rainbows. The nine large globes they carried between them were illuminated within by a soft, white glow. The miniature settlements inside them had to represent the eight fae clan territories, with Embermere in the center sphere. Even from across the ring I recognized the palace with its many levels, cantilevered towers, and flag-flying turrets, atop a diminutive hill surrounded by a wide moat. The ground of the fighting ring itself was a field of fluffy clouds identical and as insubstantial as those that floated overhead.

Here was where I’d face off with Rush.

Halting before stepping foot on the bright, shimmering field, I resisted the urge to swat at the ear hovering a hand’s length in front of my face, and announced loudly and clearly for its sake, “That will be all, goblin. You’ve done as I asked, and I no longer need you here with me.”

I’d never spoken to Pru like that before, not even in the queen’s presence, so that alone might have made my statement suspect, but I had to try something to ensure she wouldn’t get in trouble.

The nearest amputated eye zoomed toward me, challenging me not to reveal that I was staring straight at a bloody eyeball, its veins an unnatural black, its iris a pale hazel that had probably been lovely when its owner was alive.

Pru peered up at me, her shoulders still defiant, her mouth opening. As subtly as I could manage, pretending to scratch my ear, I shook my head.

Pru’s eyes narrowed as if she were able to glare at the queen’s body-part spies, her jaw clenched as she eked out, “Very well, Mistress.” Next, more softly: “May your ancestors cheer you on from the Etherlands, and may you draw first blood.” Pru cringed at the second part of the saying though it likely wasn’t possible for Rush or me to emerge from the upcoming match without some kind of bloodshed. The queen would demand it.

Nausea squirmed in my stomach at what I might have to do today—at what would be expected of Rush.

I waited until Pru finished studying me, those dark eyes full of so many things unsaid, and left, her slight shoulders slumping as she faded into the mob, that strength and rebellion vanishing as quickly as it had arrived.

I turned to dismiss my guards.

“We can’t leave, milady,” an especially burly one protested. “The king ordered us to remain at your side at all times.”

I scoffed. “Even when I’m in the ring, fighting for my survival?”

A couple of the other sentries fidgeted at my question, but Burly held my eyes. “No, milady, not then, though we’ll remain in the dugout to intervene if necessary.”

I nodded at them, unsure my father’s apparent efforts to keep the queen from ordering my execution would be enough to stay her hand, and turned, stalking toward the dugout across the field of clouds. The puffs of fluff pooled around my feet before dispersing, nothing more than a spell. My combat boots found solid, even earth beneath them. The flat terrain would make fighting easier.

I snorted to myself. As if anything about this match will be easy…

The constant hum of so many people and creatures dimmed as thousands of pairs of eyes spotted my arrival and followed.

Before I’d even stepped into the dugout, I found Rush. Dressed in fighting leathers much like my own, he stood apart from the others, his legs wide, hands clasped behind his back instead of checking the dozens of weapons strapped to his person. His hair had been braided into a handful of small plaits then clasped together at the nape of his neck around the bow and quiver strapped to his back.

As if I hadn’t seen him in ages instead of mere hours, my greedy gaze dragged across his face. Now I knew precisely how soft and full his lips were, how demanding and also giving was his kiss, how the stubble of his cheeks and chin felt against the tender skin of my thighs, how the firm line of his jaw clenched when he came…

His eyes, however, perhaps my favorite part about him, were unyielding. Their moonlight was dull, hard, and deathly still.

Before I’d finished looking my fill, he turned away.

My already queasy stomach plummeted toward my toes. I wanted to march over to him just to be nearer, to give into that urge to feel his skin against mine.

And he wouldn’t even look at me…

Where was the man I’d shared the wee hours of the night with? The lover who’d taken his time with me, yielding his passionate desires to the need to be gentle with me—tender.

Of all the men assembled in the dugout, Rush was the only one not to stare as I forced myself to pretend nothing was wrong while I made my way over to the weapons table. It was piled high with choices now that everyone but Rush and me had been eliminated. And Rush appeared to be wearing his own personal weapons, which meant I’d have my selection of the entire Gladius Probatio arsenal.

I picked up a bow and quiver, inspecting the sharpness of the arrows while wondering what I should choose when I didn’t actually want to harm my opponent .

Roan was there, standing several feet from Rush, his battle ax noticeably absent. His beard shabbier than before, his green eyes, usually bright, were dull and heavy with foreboding as they met mine.

He was the only one of Rush’s allies there. Lennox, Breccan, and Junius, along with others who sneered at me with open disdain, occupied several of the benches. Even Selwin was present, his throat now fully healed, one eyelid drooping only slightly, proving that fae healing powers were truly miraculous. He’d had knives through both parts just days before. His glare promised he hadn’t forgotten what I’d done to him, and that he’d repay the favor at his earliest opportunity—assuming I survived the day, which was probably the thought that had his lips curving up into a smirk. Fae healing powers stopped short of resurrecting the dead…

Where in dragonfire were Hiroshi, Ryder, and West? Surely they’d want to be here to support Rush … and maybe even me.

Though I was a jumble of nerves and despair inside, I kept it from showing. Zako used to say, A warrior is only as weak as his opponent believes him to be.

Despite his patent betrayal, I wished the man were here. I’d probably have forgiven him all his sins just to feel his fatherly arms wrap around me in one final embrace. No matter whom he’d really been, he’d been on my side, that much was certain. Had he been here, he would have fought for me until his dying breath.

I examined a pair of daggers while shaking my head at my na?veté. Zako wouldn’t have fought for me. My memories of him were colored by the love I’d had for him then. He hadn’t fought for me. He’d been a lackey following the king’s orders, deceiving me wholly and completely.

“Pssst.”

At first I didn’t turn.

Then, “Uh, Elowyn?”

Slipping the daggers into their waiting sheaths, I turned, already smiling at Reed, the only one who’d been friendly to me from the start.

He stood by the back entrance to the dugout, which led to the medical treatment area and the stands.

“Hi, Reed,” I said easily though quietly. He was a friendly, loyal idiot for choosing to be seen with me. At least the ears and eyes didn’t follow me, bobbing in a morbid group near the edge of the dugout where only I could see them.

“Hey, um, Elowyn.” He smiled at me shyly, his cheeks brightening beneath his usual mop of messy braids as he leaned against a wall.

“That’s right. We haven’t spoken since the whole Zinnia glamor dropped.”

“Yeah. Gotta admit, I still can’t believe you were Zinnia all that time.” He whistled softly. “It sure fooled me. I had no idea.”

“It fooled a lot of fae,” I offered, trying not to let the vivid reminder at how powerful the queen was—and how incredibly deceptive—undermine the tenuous calm I was focused on building. “I wanted to tell you who I really was but I couldn’t.”

“I understand.”

Living in Embermere, in the queen’s shadow, he likely did.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t able to get away to visit you at the stables,” I said. “I wanted to.”

“That’s okay. We can hopefully, ah, catch up later.”

Again, the if I survived the next few hours went unspoken.

I smiled as best I could, wanting him to know it was genuine. “I’d like that very much. And, ah…” I looked around me. Every man behind me in the trench but Rush was watching our interaction. “Thanks for earlier.”

He shrugged. “It was no big deal.”

Only it had been; it had been one of the biggest. With so little time spent together, Reed had still wanted to help me escape, to do what he could to ease my suffering.

“You’re a good guy, Reed. A good … friend.”

His answering grin beamed until it just as rapidly dropped, as if he’d suddenly remembered where we stood and why all over again. “I came here to warn you. The queen had all the dragon heads in Embermere taken down. All the pillars are bare right now. She doesn’t want you to do … well, whatever it is you did to bring that head to life so it could defend you. Also, Millicent left the stables. She’s at the court now.”

I frowned at the memory of her in Lennox’s company. “I saw her. Do you know what happened? How she’s at the court?”

“Not really, other than I heard she’s now Her Majesty’s favorite feethle.”

I felt my eyes widen. “ Millicent is the queen’s new pet?”

He nodded, tucking tumbling hair behind an ear. “Watch your back with her. Not sure why, but she really hates you.”

I sighed, rolling my neck. “Thanks for the warning. Hey, I’ll?—”

But my promise to finally visit him was cut off as Azariah’s voice rang out. “Ladies, gentlemen, creatures, and assorted pests of the mirror world, welcome to the final match of the Gladius Probatio!” His announcement worked up to a crescendo, and thunderous applause followed.

I’d turned in the direction of the unisus, who now stood out in the middle of the arena, clouds drifting around him, making him appear even more majestic than usual with his muscled, white body and twisting, piercing horn.

Reed grasped my arm, returning my attention to him.

Urgently, he said, “May your ancestors cheer you on from the Etherlands, and may you draw first blood.” His voice dropping even lower, he added, “Forever as one in the light. Forever divided in the darkness.”

My head bobbed in silent thanks as the moment when I’d have to fight Rush barreled—faster and faster—toward me.

“I like Rush, and I really hope he makes it today. But you’ll be the one I’ll be cheering on from the stands.”

“Thanks.” The one word felt like it had to claw its way through an entire mountain clogging my throat. My eyes blurred as I hastened to blink away the emotion.

He squeezed my arm before releasing me. “You’ve got this. Do whatever you’ve gotta do to survive.”

I nodded again, and he was gone before I was ready for him to leave, before I was ready for Azariah to say, “Make some noise for our final two contestants: the long-time favorite, Rush Vega, drake of Amarantos, as strong and skilled with blade and bow as he is with the ladies—I can see all you females eyeing him up.” He laughed, a deep horsely chuff. My teeth gritted. “And Elowyn Ashira, viscountess of Forzantos and our surprise, secret royal.” Azariah had evidently also been schooled to omit the Xiomara from my name. “The competitor no one expected to make it this far, up against the most formidable warrior the mirror world has ever seen. It’s sure to be a fight to remember.”

The unisus paused for applause before continuing, but, consumed by Rush’s gaze, I no longer paid attention to what was said. Finally on me, Rush stared so fiercely that I couldn’t begin to decipher what it meant. I lost myself to those moonlit eyes, now swirling as if they housed an entire universe … as they appeared to want to consume me.

Next, without a single smile or nod to silently assure me we were on the same side, Rush turned and sauntered out into the arena—and didn’t look back.

Realizing I’d probably missed my cue, I delayed just long enough to fill every one of my sheaths with weapons I might not get the chance to use, and would definitely not want to use against the man who’d given me what no one else had, and awakened a fire within that was tugging me out into the fighting pit with him.

Wherever he went, my body wanted to follow.

Steeling my features into the competence and courage I hoped to find out there, I stalked after the man who’d never pretended to be anything but my enemy.

“Give ‘im dragonfire, lassie,” Roan grumbled as I passed.

It was precisely that kind of force, that kind of strength and power, that I’d need on my side if I was to walk back out of this ring.