Chapter 7
Maybe this was a dumb idea.
Now even more eyes are on us. Curious, glowing, hungry.
I can’t tell if they’re fascinated because a group of humans only visit the Court once in a blood moon, or just debating which one of us they would like to taste first.
“Tell me again why we’re here?” Tessa rubs her arms, eyes darting nervously around.
“I want to buy some weapons,” I answer truthfully. “I don’t know why you both followed me.”
“Are you kidding me? Did you think I wanted to be left with Daisy and Jordan? And as if Leon is going to talk to me.” She exhales, pointing at herself as if saying I should take a long, hard look at her.
“The only one I can tolerate is Oliver, but out of all the contestants, you two are the most normal.”
Lucas and I look at each other and agree silently.
Tessa has no idea how awfully disturbed we both are.
“I think we should stick together, at least as long as we can, because I sure as hell don’t want to fight the others alone.” She winces, like the idea makes her physically sick. “Yesterday, I thought Daisy was just a shy nerd. Today, she turned out to be a jealous bitch.”
“So, you don’t think me spending time with Kieran is cheating?”
“Please.” She scoffs, grinning like a cat who just found a treat. “Sure, he’s terrifying, and I’m probably never going to be brave enough to come within five feet of him … but that face? And those wings? I’m already writing books about him in my head.”
I snort.
So, she’s the type that likes to fantasise but doesn’t act on it.
“We’re talking about the same Fae that just lifted his hand and took someone’s eye, right?” Lucas is very much not amused. “You both need to stay away from him.”
“This is his Court, Lucas,” I say, lowering my voice as I look around. “There’s no escaping him, or any of these Fae.”
“And that’s why we need weapons?” he asks, just as a male Fae with glimmering butterfly wings brushes far too close, almost like it’s on purpose. Lucas throws an arm over my shoulder, gently pulling me towards him. “What are weapons going to do? They all have magic.”
“Yes, but not all of them are powerful,” I say, keeping my gaze locked on the butterfly-winged Fae, who turns to laugh like what he did was some kind of joke. “Pretty sure some have lesser magic. Why else would there be servants, if all of them have the same kind of magic?”
“That’s a good point.” Tessa’s eyes widen.
“Besides, Gideon said that no one is half as powerful as Kieran. And considering they’re all fallen starbeings … they might not be as strong as they once were. Who knows?”
“So, the weapons are to protect yourself from Kieran?” Lucas arches a brow.
This feels like a test—to see if I’d admit I’m afraid of Kieran.
“Don’t be silly.” I chuckle. “They’re to protect ourselves from the rest of the contestants.”
The ward will keep them out of my room, but two-thirds of our days are spent outside. I can’t be sure that Daisy isn’t planning on assassinating me when I’m reading alone in the library.
“Clever.” Lucas grins, straightening the map in his hand. “There’s a blacksmith two streets down.”
“Lead the way.”
It’s a sunny autumn day, the kind that shouldn’t exist in a place like this.
The shops and stalls around here look both haunting and dreamlike.
They’re either cloaked in black, or glowing faintly.
Orbs containing bones, shimmering liquid, and things I don’t want to know line a shelf in front of one shop.
The smell of something buttery kisses my nose, and it gets stronger the further down the street we go.
It’s a bakery, right across the blacksmith shop.
Problem is, we don’t have any money, and I’m not about to waste two promises today.
“We do need a job, don’t we?” Tessa swallows, like she can taste the pastries in her mouth.
“Afraid so,” I mutter. “Which job are you thinking about?”
“I’m thinking … I really hope that bakery is hiring.”
“Sure.” Lucas snorts “Maybe I’ll sign up to be a guard—keep tabs on all the lunatics.”
“Hey, that’s not a bad idea, actually,” I say. “I’m thinking about the assistant position. You spy on the Court, and I’ll get close enough to dig up dirt on the Fae.”
Tessa points at herself again. “And I’m just supposed to … eat?”
“You should join the kitchen, since you’re already a cook,” I say, winking. “And in case we need to poison someone.”
She blinks.
I brace myself for her voice going high-pitched as she says it’s a barbaric idea.
But Tessa just nods.
“Got it. And I can make sure that no one is poisoning our food, too.”
Oh, yes. That too.
But when it’s just the three of us left, I’m never taking anything she cooks again.
For now, let’s just hope this temporary alliance consisting of sunshine, grey clouds, and a dark storm actually holds.
We turn our backs to the bakery, practically dragging Tessa away, and finally step into the blacksmith’s shop.
From outside, I expected something grim and shadowed, like the other eerie stalls we passed, but it’s bright and colourful, almost like a summer garden in here. The shop owner—to my surprise—is a female Fae, dressed elegantly in a flowing coral gown, black leather gloves snug over her hands.
She looks less like a blacksmith and more a lady of the Court.
“You must be the new contestants,” she says with a smile, glancing over at us. “How can I help?”
Should I be worried that the friendliest place in this entire market seems to be the one that sells weapons?
“I was wondering if we could have a look at some weapons,” I say, keeping my tone polite as I step closer. “We don’t have any money—yet—but I heard some shops take promises as payment?”
“Well, you heard right, my dear.” She grins, tugging a strand of gorgeous red hair behind her pointed ear. “However, the weight of your promise depends entirely on what you’re asking for. Can’t just promise to bring me flowers and expect to walk out with a hefty sword—you know what I mean?”
I press my lips together. Fair enough.
“If you don’t know what to offer me, you could always promise to work here for a few days. It’ll be unpaid, of course.” The Fae shrugs. “Why don’t you have a look around first and decide?”
I nod. “Thank you.”
“I don’t know about this, Cassandra,” Lucas whispers to me as we step deeper inside the shop. “It sounds like a trick.”
“The trick is that you have to keep your promise,” I murmur, dragging my eyes from shelf to shelf, looking for anything that fits easily in my grip—anything I can hide under my dress.
“Don’t you think it’s weird that you can pay for anything with promises?” Tessa pipes up, picking up a sword she can barely lift. It tips dangerously low, and Lucas snatches it before it hits the ground. “Shit, sorry! I didn’t think it’d be that heavy.”
“Be careful, or you might find yourself spending a year here trying to pay off damages.” Lucas exhales, carefully returning the sword to its place.
Considering they were made for the Fae who are slightly taller than us, she was lucky she could even pick it up in the first place.
“Sorry,” Tessa calls out again, this time to the shop owner, who’s watching her with sharp eyes. “Gods, that was terrifying.”
I glide my fingers across a row of short knives and daggers on display. They look similar at a glance, but the price tags say otherwise.
“What’s the difference between these two?” I ask, carrying them back to the counter.
“The blades are made with different materials,” the shop owner says smoothly, taking one in each hand.
“This one is moonstone blade—strong, balanced, reliable. Good for killing, better for surviving.” She lifts the other one, tilting it so the edge catches the light.
It shimmers faintly, like every other thing in this damn Court.
“This is forged with twilight glass, sharp enough to slice through silk and bone alike, but it breaks if you don’t treat it right.
More … well, you could say temperamental. ”
Sounds like me—moody, breakable, unpredictable.
But something else catches my eye from the cabinet behind the counter.
A dagger—small, elegant. Its hilt gleams gold beneath the glass, almost too polished to belong in a place like this.
“What about that one?” I point.
The Fae turns, blinks once, then shakes her head. “Sorry, I’m afraid that one’s not for sale.”
I tilt my head. “But there’s price tag on it.”
“Yes, but you need a permit. It’s made of iron.”
Oh.
I stare at it a second longer.
“You sell the only weapon that can actually hurt you?”
“Only to the High Commanders and authorised guards, which is why you need a permit,” she replies. “You’d be better off with these two.”
I frown.
So, Oliver’s guess was wrong—you can actually buy iron here, assuming you have the right connections. I mean, there’re bad people everywhere—there probably are bad Fae, too. And the guards need something strong enough to keep them in line.
Even if she did sell it to me, I doubt it’d be worth any of my empty promises.
But here’s the thing: I might die in two weeks, and a dead girl can’t pay her debts.
So, what do I offer her for these two daggers?
As I’m carefully considering my promise, Lucas dumps a short knife and another dagger onto the counter.
“I promise to owe you a favour for all four of these,” he blurts out before I can say anything. “Send me to do your dirty work—whatever you need. That pays for them.”
My eyes snap to him.
What the actual hell?
“Lucas, I—”
“Deal,” the Fae interrupts, not even pretending to care what I have to say. She extends a gloved hand, all teeth and delight.
And Lucas grabs it without a second of hesitation.
Magic pulses in the air, a sharp pressure that makes my skin prickle. They hold hands for a moment longer than necessary, and when they let go, Lucas stares at his wrist like something’s supposed to be there.
“Felt like something just wrapped around my arm,” he murmurs.
The shop owner smirks. “Something is. You just can’t see it.”
“Why the hell did you just do that?”