Chapter 29
Daisy
She startled awake right before a hand closed over her nose and mouth. She struck upward with her knife, her fingers curled around it in sleep. The blade sliced through the covers. The body she was aiming for barely twisted out of the way.
A crushing blow slammed into her side, the force so extreme that bone cracked. Pain flared, eclipsing her thoughts for a moment. The large hand cut off her air.
As always, Zorn’s voice shoved its way to the forefront of her mind.
Panicking will slow down logical thought and might mean the difference between life and death.
She tried to cut out the pain as the shadow of an arm cocked back, readying to throw another punch.
She angled her knife and sliced, the movement sending waves of agony through her torso.
The attacker didn’t twist enough this time to get out of the way.
The blade cut through skin, earning a deep grunt.
Her lungs burned, needing air. Trying to force his hand off would cost her valuable time, though.
She braced against the pain and thrust her dagger, but the blow had already started to descend. If he hit her again, the broken rib might splinter, piercing a vital organ. She healed fast, but not fast enough for a wound like that.
The male was ripped to the side unexpectedly, allowing her much-needed breath. His fist went low. It thudded off the wood frame of the cot. She finished her strike, agony nearly drowning her. Her blade hit home, but given he’d moved, not where she’d aimed. It wouldn’t kill him.
He grunted again as she gritted her teeth and prepared for another strike, yanking out her knife and aiming. She turned it so it would find purchase and nearly blacked out from the pain of her broken ribs. The male fell, though—no, he was forced down, shoved by someone behind.
A creature hiding in shadow lifted a knife and brought the hilt down hard. It hit the attacker’s head as the body finished the fall, splaying across the ground. Dead or knocked out, she wasn’t sure.
Tears rolled down from the corners of her eyes as she tried to see who held the knife, wondering why they hadn’t used it.
The shadow drifted away as the creature stepped forward. Lank black hair hung beside a pinched face with full lips. It was the fae that had been looking at her earlier when everyone else ignored her.
I didn’t save your life, said a beautiful voice, high and light and like a spring morning breeze through meadows of blooming flowers. The sound felt so distinctly fae that Daisy would’ve wept if she hadn’t already been crying from the throbbing pain.
(And she was a mindgazer. What in the fuck was she doing in here?)
Okay, Daisy replied (no idea if that was true or why she’d say it).
The female nodded and looked down at the male at her feet, then at Daisy putting a hand over her ribs.
Okay, the female murmured before bending and grabbing the male’s arm.
She dragged him through the cots, her lack of effort not at all matching the size difference.
Like Daisy, she had more strength than what was apparent.
She dragged him out to the wash area. If anyone was awake to notice, they didn’t stir or move to look.
When she came back in, so light and graceful in her step that she practically danced, it was without the male.
Without another word, the skinny female climbed into the cot beside Daisy. It hadn’t been occupied when Daisy had fallen asleep, just like the other nearby cots, still empty.
Thank you, Daisy thought at her. Whether the female had saved her life or not, she’d definitely helped a great fucking deal. Another blow like the first one would’ve crippled her until Faelynn could get here. Maybe even beyond.
She just barely saw the female nod before turning her back on Daisy and settling.
With each breath, pain stabbed into Daisy’s side. It hurt to move. It hurt to exist. When she did move, the bones sounded like they were grating against each other. The break was bad.
Faelynn is trying to get in, but they won’t let her, Tarian thought, his tone flat and colorless. He was trying to control his rage. Can you hang on until morning?
I’m going to have to. How long have you been listening? Did you notice the female with mindgazer magic?
I woke up when your surprise registered.
I did notice, yes. That talent is not listed on any official documents, but then, most talents aren’t.
It is unusual to sacrifice a bloodline with mindgazer magic to games such as this, though, and more unusual to sacrifice that kind of power.
She seemed…lost when she fought, though. Unfocused. She won, but barely.
She’d been called directly after Daisy, and Daisy had been busy getting locked in. She’d missed that battle.
Tarian replayed what he remembered of it, a hazy memory within his concern for Daisy and the frustration that they had to do this at all. The frustration of an unsure future. The memory was enough. Plenty, actually.
Daisy would’ve chuckled, but the excruciating pain prevented her.
The female did seem lost, unsure where to stand or which foot to lean on. Her movements were clunky, and her blocks were usually clumsy. The sword strikes she missed emphasized her scrawny arms and lack of muscle tone. But the strikes that landed…
Daisy couldn’t have landed them better herself.
She didn’t barely win, just like I didn’t accidentally win. She’s not a sacrifice at all. She doesn’t look like much—
Neither do you.
I beg your fucking pardon, Mr. Adonis, she thought, faux-scandalized. I look like a little dove, weak and fragile and sometimes pretty in flight. I look like the sort of creature a predator snaps up, and so does she. She cultivated her image, just like I did.
Is that what you think I am calling you?
He paused. Of course you do. You wouldn’t know any different.
Well. Yes, I agree, she is not as she seems, just like you.
Be careful there. She has an ulterior motive in helping you, and that is likely to get close to you. And that is deadly in your situation.
Yes, Mother, thank you. I had no idea how the world works. What sort of dove are you talking about?
I’ll find out who put her forward as a champion. In the meantime, get some sleep. Faelynn will be in as soon as she can. I’ll see you tomorrow.
With that, his mind slipped away.
The pain controlled her world, a dull throb of intensity she couldn’t filter into the background.
There would be no sleep for her tonight.
She might as well replay everything she knew, from the battles to the male who’d accosted her in her sleep with no real desire to kill her, to the female who’d helped her.
It was the female she kept coming back to.
What was her game here? She could see helping Daisy so as to get closer and get information, as Tarian had said.
But why reveal the mindgazer magic? That was huge.
It hinted at her power level, the status she should have, and the strangeness of ending up here. Something definitely didn’t add up.
Daisy was missing something, and as Tarian had said, that could prove deadly.
The next afternoon, Daisy winced as she shifted. The blood covering the marble floor was slick on her smooth-soled boots. The nobles lounged in their places, eating and chatting as the next opponent came out.
The male from last night. Surprise, surprise. He’d tried to get an edge by roughing her up. His benefactor had known who his opponent would be.
If only Faelynn’s healing and Daisy’s blood magic had worked faster.
She wasn’t in tiptop shape. It hurt to twist, and extreme movement might buckle her knees.
Luckily, this lump of muscle had a big welt on his clean-shaven head from where the female had hit him last night and a healing line of puffy skin where Daisy had stabbed him. He wasn’t in tiptop shape either.
“As before,” the king said, on his dais with those unnatural, gleaming eyes, “do not kill her. Break her, only. I wish to use her before long.”
These fights were to the death. Except hers, obviously. She was special, with a future much worse. Goodie.
“Commence,” the voice sounded, and this time, Daisy didn’t wait.
She snatched all five throwing knives. She tossed up the first, grabbed it by the blade, and threw. The next she plucked out of her other hand and threw. The next, the next. All five were in the air in quick succession. Just like last night, this fucker was slow to react.
He twisted jerkily, obviously in pain. He didn’t get far enough out of the way. The first knife lodged in the lower part of his neck, just off center. The second farther down. The next three in his chest. Those wouldn’t go deep enough to kill him, but they’d slow him further.
His body jerked with each strike.
A slash of stinging magic made her falter. She called on the chalice magic and cut it out. If he realized it, he didn’t show it.
Her next steps landed with purpose. There was no slipping and sliding today. No falling and flailing. That shit hurt too much. There was just ending this fight as quickly as fucking possible.
She whipped out her magical knife as he recovered, plucking the knives from his body. Blood gushed from his neck. It spread out over his mostly bare chest, save for the crisscrossing straps to house his knives. He grabbed one of them and stepped forward to meet her.
But he didn’t have a magical knife like she did.
Cluing in to her thoughts, the knife grew longer and longer. It stretched out into a spear.
Daisy took a deep breath, held it, stepped, and thrust. Pain flowered in her chest and shocked her system. Her knees went wobbly, and she cried in pain as her spear lodged into his side. Fuck. That wasn’t the right place.
She staggered as she yanked it back. He staggered as he helped pull it out of his flesh, knife in hand.
Look down at it, you dumb fucker. Look down at it! Give me a second to adjust.
But he didn’t look down, knowing what would happen. He advanced, shaky on his feet, losing a lot of blood but not falling. Great, she’d gotten a highly motivated one.
She backpedaled. Her foot slipped, and she went down, catching herself on a knee. Her breath turned ragged from the searing pain in her side. It had been a full break. A bad one, as she’d thought. The bone hadn’t totally stitched back together.
“Fuck,” she said through gritted teeth.
The male slashed with his knife. She ducked away but couldn’t stomach rolling under him to the other side. She was worried she wouldn’t get back up.
To give in to one’s pain is to give in to death, Zorn’s voice echoed in her mind.
The pain wouldn’t kill her.
The wound would not kill her.
Failing to act because of either would certainly kill her.
Fucking Zorn was always fucking right.
She ground her teeth as the knife slashed down, and then she rolled out of the way. The agony welled up, flashing like lightning through her middle. She didn’t stop. Couldn’t if she wanted to survive in one piece. She completed the roll, forced herself to kneel, and struck with everything she had.
Her scream punctuated her shortened spear sticking through the side of his ribcage.
Magically sharpened, it sliced through bone and lung and kept going, elongating on its own until it hit the heart.
She wondered if it had bent inside his body to get it.
The sword wasn’t relying on her; it was acting on its own, doing what was required to get the kill.
The male screamed with her, the hand that held the knife spasming. He released it and grabbed for the spear, but it was too late. The damage was done.
He collapsed as she did, withering to the ground. The difference was, he wouldn’t get back up. She would. Eventually. Some day.
The guards grabbed her upper arms, and she screamed again as they lifted her.
“I got it.” She tried to struggle away, straightening her legs. “I got it—”
“Bring her here.”
The king’s voice stopped her heart. She clutched one of the guard’s arms, looking back for her sword. Faelynn crouched beside it, her face slack. She’d been collecting Daisy’s items and frozen. That wasn’t good.
Daisy couldn’t go with the king. Not like this. Not without the ability to fight back properly. Not without a weapon!
Her body started to shake with very real fear. The kind of fear that spoke of the soul and not the body. That spoke of wounds worse than mortal wounds.
Help me, she wanted to shout. Please, Tarian, help me!
But she wouldn’t. He’d already said when it came to the king—when it came to the royal chambers—he could do nothing. Some battles she’d have to fight alone. Which had been fine…when it didn’t feel like a spiked hammer hit her in the ribs every time she fucking moved.
The royals sat to the sides, one of the males interested, the other picking at his nail.
The queen swished her gown, not looking at Daisy.
The king choosing a sex toy right in front of her had to be so demoralizing, though not as demoralizing as being that toy.
The princess had a smug grin. She knew what the king planned to do—how he longed to break the human.
A teardrop of blood dripped out of the king’s left eye. His lids were hooded, lust burning brightly within.
Everything in her recoiled as she walked closer, then was dragged, not wanting to go. Not able to stomach this. Not able to save herself.
“No, please,” she begged. “Please.”