Chapter 50
CHAPTER 50
Dayton
I nstinct takes over and I grab Rosie’s golden thorn knife from my back pocket and slice open the rope trap. I land on both feet, and easily catch Rosie, who falls into my arms.
“Stay down, love,” I say and hurl us both to the ground just as the trident careens over our heads and embeds into the tree.
I grab Rosie beneath her arms and haul her to her feet. Branches break behind us. I chance a glance back at our hunter, a tall figure with a dark hood shadowing his face. Male, broad-shouldered, and radiating power.
“I can use my thorns,” Rosalina hisses.
“No,” I say. “Don’t reveal who you are yet. I can handle one man.”
The shadowy figure rips the trident from the tree with a crack . The weapon has a long reach, but once I get past his defenses, a quick strike to his chest should take him down. I zig-zag toward him, feinting left as he drives the trident in my direction, then duck, planning to come up right in front of him.
The handle of the weapon smacks me in the side of the face, and I go down hard in the foliage.
Never stay down. Stay down and your enemies will seize the advantage, turning the tide against you in an instant. Old lessons play in my mind. The figure pulls the trident back, poised to strike. I roll to the side, trident spraying up dirt and leaves beside my head.
I somersault, leaping up at his back. Dagger in hand, I move to strike.
The bastard has already turned, trident’s prongs slicing three red lines across my chest. While I’m still reeling in shock, he gives a dissatisfied grunt and kicks me in the stomach.
“That’s the last time you touch him,” Rosalina growls.
“Now you’re done for,” I croak.
Light glistens across the jungle and, with a scream, golden briars erupt from the ground, snaking toward us in great arcs. The shadowed figure turns from me then leaps onto the briars, bounding over them toward Rosie. He raises the trident above his head.
I see the shock on Rosalina’s face. She tries to change the briars’ path, bringing them up to strike the man, but he cuts them in half with a wave of the trident.
“No!” I scream, and a torrent of water shoots from my palms.
The man doesn’t even turn, just thrusts a hand behind him, a gale of wind blasting the water away.
The man jumps, poised to attack Rosie.
I’m across the jungle in a single instant, blocking her body with my own, feeling the sharp slice of the trident against my back. I push her to the ground, grunting as we roll away.
“Dayton!” she gasps, gripping me tight around the neck.
The shadowy figure paces, watching us, no doubt anticipating our next action. This man responds like he knows my every move.
And hers. Like he knows exactly how to counteract her thorns.
“I can take us back to Castletree,” Rosalina whispers.
“I’m not done yet,” I growl. “Damn, I wish I had my swords.”
“You do have something,” Rosalina says, touching my pocket.
And the token within it, which holds the Trident of Honor. I don’t have time to think through the gravity of what it means to wield a weapon of such caliber. I’ve always been one to react to the situation as needed, and right now, I need a damn weapon.
The foliage breaks behind me as the man approaches. I reach into my pocket and pull out the token, throwing it over my neck. I think of the trident. With a flash of brightness, it appears solid in my hands. A glow emits from it, illuminating Rosie in teal light.
“I promised Ez I’d protect you,” I say and I almost do something stupid, like finish that kiss I tried to give her earlier. At the thought, warmth spreads across my chest. I’ve never been so sure this bastard threatening her needs to fucking die.
I leap up, meeting his trident with my own in a metal clang. I press forward, but he steps easily over every root and rock. His movements are fluid, almost mesmerizing, as he mirrors my stance with uncanny precision.
We dance between the shadows of the trees, the heat of the jungle sweltering. Sweat beads on my brow as I struggle to keep up with the relentless assault. With each move, he anticipates my next step.
I need to outsmart him and end this quickly. I feign a stumble, expecting to catch him off-guard and strike at his opening. He meets my thrust, and the prongs of our tridents interlock. I drive my heels into the ground, putting all my weight behind the attack. Fuck, this bastard is strong.
Then, to my astonishment, he takes one hand off his trident. From his free hand, a blast of water erupts, striking me in the chest, shooting me backward. The man rushes forward and strikes his trident into the ground, pinning mine to the earth.
“Now, there’s a weapon I haven’t seen for ages,” the shadowed figure speaks, staring down at our interlocking tridents.
That voice …
He fought like he knew my every move because he does.
The shadowed man throws back his hood, and my old master stares down at me.
“Justus,” I breathe, staggering up on my forearms. “What are you doing here?”
“Still teaching you, apparently.” He flicks my trident into the air with his own, where I reach out a palm to catch it. “Follow me.”
Dusk falls over the island, casting everything in a hazy pink glow. Justus’s cabin lies perched at the highest point. The ocean stretches all around us, sapphire waters blending with the fiery hues of the setting sun.
The hut is simple, weathered wood and a palm-frond roof, built only from what the island has to offer. I rest outside of it before a roaring fire, flickering light dancing across the violet earth.
Justus sits across from me, stirring a bubbling pot of stew that is cooking on the fire. He’s one of the oldest fae I know. Long gray hair is tied at the nape of his neck with a leather cord, and he’s grown a scratchy beard. Nicks and scars line his weather-worn face, and his voice has the gravel of a stone bed. I think Rosalina had been quite surprised when I’d gone from a death match in one moment to bounding over and hugging the man the next.
But it had suddenly all made sense. I wasn’t in any danger. Neither was Rosalina. Sure, I’d been nicked a few times, but that’s just how Justus works. You don’t learn if you don’t get hurt, especially someone as thick-skulled as you, Daytonales.
Rosie had come around, especially when he mentioned something about stew and a warm place to sleep. The door to the cabin opens and she steps out. Her hair falls in salt-thick waves around her face, and the top of her nose is slightly burned. The sun has brought out a small splattering of freckles on her cheeks. It’s cute and reminds me of Farron.
“I feel like every inch of me is covered in sand and salt and more sand,” Rosalina grumbles.
“After you eat, there’s a stream nearby, and you may make use of my extra clothes,” Justus says, then turns to me. “She’s one of the reasons you lost the fight.”
“Huh?”
Rosie walks closer. The firelight sparkles in her hair and eyes like it wants to join with her. She sits down, giving me a quick smile, before turning to Justus.
“Is it so wrong to protect your allies?” she asks.
“It is if it puts you in jeopardy. You can’t protect anyone if you’re dead.” He ladles a cup of stew into a coconut bowl. “You two will have to overcome that if you’re to fight in the arena together.”
“Dayton told you about that?” Rosalina gives a quick nod of thanks as she accepts the stew.
“No time to waste,” I say.
Justus hands me my own steaming bowl, and I eagerly bring it to my lips, taking a sip and swallowing sweet potato, pineapple, and gummy roots.
“So, you trained Dayton?” Rosalina asks.
“He unfortunately forced that task upon me,” Justus says.
I can only laugh at the memory. “Damocles and Decimus were both trained in the palace, but I used to get bored with my lessons and sneak out. I was only a child at this point and preferred to play with the other kids in the foothills around Hadria. They told me stories of an ancient fae warrior masquerading as a goat herder outside the city. I thought if anyone could teach me to beat my brothers in combat, it was him.”
“I believe the words you first said to me were, ‘Teach me to be a hero,’” Justus says, sipping his own bowl.
“Well, I figured only a hero could beat them,” I reply.
“So, you agreed to take Dayton on as your student?” Rosalina’s eyes light up. There’s nothing that girl loves more than a story, and I intend to give her a good one.
“Oh, it wasn’t that easy. I went up there every day for a month, and every day he sent me packing, saying he was just a goat herder and he had nothing to teach me. But on the thirty-first day, he said I obviously had energy to burn, and I might as well be useful while I was up there. He had me shovel the goat pen. But he corrected my hold on the shovel and when I sparred with Decimus later that day, I didn’t drop my swords.”
Rosalina looks between us eagerly, urging us to continue with her eyes.
“It went like that for a while. Work, work, work, with the occasional hint. It wasn’t until I told him I had signed up for the Luminae Games that he finally relented, and our training began.”
“Because you were a child entering into one of the most dangerous arena fights in all of Summer.”
“That child became the youngest to ever win those games,” I say, downing my stew and holding out my bowl for more. “Thanks to your training.”
“What are the Luminae Games?” Rosalina asks.
“A specific type of tournament that makes use of an ancient artefact recovered from the Above,” Justus explains. “The artefact, known as the Orb of Ancestors, allows the royal family of Summer to commune with the memory of past leaders and great gladiators who gave their lives upon the sands.”
“But during the Luminae Games, we use it for something else,” I say.
“The orb is used to bring ancient warriors back to the arena,” Justus says. “Their memory, etched in light, comes to life to fight again, testing the new gladiators of Summer.”
“Trust me, a blade of light can kill you just as easily as a real one,” I say. “After that, our training truly began.”
“I thought I could make you a hero,” he says.
A pit forms in my stomach at the sadness in his words. I know I have to ask, but the words are heavy on my tongue. “What are you doing out here? After the War of Thorns, I looked for you, but you disappeared—”
Justus shakes his head. “I failed Summer. Failed your mother. Failed all of you.”
“You didn’t fail them,” I say, staring straight into the flames. “I did.”
“No one failed anything,” Rosalina says. “Will you help us prepare for the arena?”
“I could not help him before,” Justus says. “I could not stop this war. What can I offer now?”
Rosalina looks over at him, a fire in her eyes. “Dayton is a hero. He may not see it, but he has saved me again and again. He’s back now, despite everything, despite his curse, to reclaim Summer.”
“So, the curse is real?” Justus asks. “I have heard whispers.”
“Yes. You’ll see soon enough.” I flick my gaze to the approaching sunset.
“You have a way to break it,” Rosalina says. “Your mate is alive and awaits you.”
The thought makes me feel even heavier. I rest my head in my hands and look up at Justus. “I understand how you combated my moves in the fight. But you did the same with Rosalina and her thorns. It was like you knew exactly how she worked. You never fought Caspian in the war, so how could you know her magic?”
“You’re right. I never fought Caspian.” Justus stands and looks down at us. “But I know how to combat the thorns because I was trained by the one who first wielded them.”
Rosalina and I exchange a stunned glance.
“Take my cabin and rest. Tomorrow, I will teach Aurelia’s daughter some tricks,” Justus says. “For you, Daytonales, you are already a master at your dual swords. Now, it’s time to learn how to wield my old trident.”
With that, he walks into the woods.
“He really is an ancient warrior.” Rosalina gasps. “He knew my mother.”
His old trident. “He knew your mother,” I say, as it finally dawns on me. “Because he was never a goat herder, just as he was never actually Justus. He’s Aeneas, the first High Prince of Summer.”