Chapter 4
the guards bring me food and fresh clothes, escort me to a bathroom and ignore every one of my questions. It’s only when the day wanes to evening that Kell knocks on my door, accompanied by a witch. A hunter. I jump to my feet and back away, but she doesn’t cross the threshold.
‘She’s assigned to us for the Trials,’ Kell says, jerking a thumb at the hunter. ‘To train us so we win. To ensure we survive and don’t do anything reckless.’
‘She is called Hira,’ the hunter says, scowling at us both as she folds her arms. I purse my lips, regarding her.
She has hair so black it has a sheen of deepest navy, eyes like piercing pools and deep brown skin.
‘And though this is better than the assignment I was previously given, to fish out fire sprites in the mines of Valstra, it’s not better by much.
If Brielle hadn’t defected, I wouldn’t be here at all.
I’m not on their side, I’m not on yours and I’d appreciate it if you’d just let me carry out my assignment. ’
I frown. ‘You know Brielle?’
Hira nods. ‘We were both at Coven Septern, before—’
‘Have you heard from her? Is she well?’ I blurt. ‘Could you get a message to her?’
‘And disobey my Malefant?’ Hira shakes her head.
‘I think not, creature. Brielle may have betrayed us, but I remain loyal to my coven. My task is to ensure you two don’t mess up.
We will begin training tomorrow morning, and I will find out what I have to work with.
Then, in the evening, it’s the grand ball for the competitors and the visiting courts, and you will both attend.
Ensure they can all get a good look at you, keep to yourselves and return to your rooms without incident. Yes?’
Kell and I both stare at her stonily.
‘I take that as acquiescence. A guard will collect each of you after breakfast tomorrow, and we will begin.’
‘What kind of training?’ I ask, narrowing my eyes. The horror of the lightning I unleashed on that farm building is haunting me. If the ruling council want me to do that again, to be that kind of weapon … how will I get through this?
Hira smiles. ‘Apparently you both have some command of magic, enough that the ruling council believes you will be victorious. And I must ensure you can use whatever gifts are at your disposal, and that you avoid dying in the first Trial. I told my Malefant it was an impossible task, and yet here we are. Don’t ask me any questions like, but why Hira, but what do the ruling council want, Hira …
because I don’t know and, frankly, I don’t care. ’
‘Because you’re just carrying out your assignment,’ I say through gritted teeth, beginning to understand why Brielle and Lowri walked away from their coven. If all the witches and hunters are like this … well.
‘Exactly. Glad we understand each other.’ She nods to a guard behind her, who nudges Kell to move along. ‘Now, both of you, stay in your rooms and don’t cause any trouble. The faster we get through this, the faster I can return to my coven and leave this soulless palace.’
Hira’s training seems to consist of snarling at us in a disused hall as we work through a series of jabs and kicks, then she’s summoned elsewhere before we can move on to a demonstration of our gifts, as she calls them.
A few hours later, as the sky turns to dusk, Kell and I are escorted to another part of the vast court, along silent corridors and wide staircases, to the only room that seems to hold any life.
The music and merriment spilling out are like the scrape of foul claws in my mind.
I enter the grand ballroom in an outfit that was chosen for me: a fancy gown woven in gold and cream, symbolising Arnhem.
It reminds me too much of the one Renshaw put me in on board her ship and anger coils within me.
The first thing I do is scan the crowd for Agnes’s red hair, hoping against hope that she’s somehow in here too, that I can speak to her, make sure she’s all right …
but after discarding every glint of red I find my heart deflates. She’s not at this party.
‘At least the guards aren’t going to tail us in here,’ Kell mutters, tugging at the hem of a tunic they’ve chosen for him, also woven in threads of gold and cream. ‘They’re barring every exit.’
I couldn’t escape now, even if I had the chance.
Not without Agnes, and I’ve yet to think of a way to save us both.
There’s still too little information. I have no knowledge of the court, its layout or where they’re holding her.
For now, I have to learn more about the Trials, and what I need to do to survive.
This ball, to welcome the competitors and members of their courts from across the continent, seems like a fine way to glean vital details.
‘There’s food, and it’s better than the rubbish they’ve been feeding us,’ I say with a shrug, tamping down my frustration. ‘Keep your wits about you, though. We don’t know how competitive these other champions will be.’
Kell narrows his gaze as he casts it over the ballroom, a sudden peal of high-pitched laughter spearing the air like an arrow. ‘Agreed. Although they’d be pretty foolish to poison someone in another court …’
‘Depends how desperate they are,’ I say gruffly.
Picturing Agnes, I know how desperate I am.
And, although we both know the rules of the Trials, we have little knowledge of this side of them.
Perhaps the moments in between are just as important as the challenges themselves.
I learned long ago that where there is money, there is purpose.
And the ruling council have not scrimped on this spread, which means there is a reason for this assembly.
Perhaps it is just to display the wealth and superiority of Arnhem, but maybe the members of these other courts will use this gathering to their advantage. I wish we had an ally here.
The tables along one wall are laden with food and drinks, platters piled high with produce from across the continent.
The extravagance leaves me cold as I step over to the tables, loading up a plate and picking my way through it.
There’s fish, meat, vegetables in pickled slivers, delicate piles of leaf and sauce, and the puddings are all towering confections in bright colours.
It’s a disgusting display of greed and wealth, a feast that would feed the whole of Rosevear for a week.
The ruling council is wasting no time or resources in showing their might.
But is it a display to unnerve the visiting members of the other courts, or are they trying to impress?
When we reach the drinks table, Kell makes a snort of disgust. ‘Frost-flower syrup. Subtle.’
‘What do you mean?’ I pick up one of the pearlescent coupe glasses, swirling the pink, fizzing drink within.
‘Frost flowers grow in the north. It’s the first place the ruling council conquered, or so I’ve heard tell from people passing through.
They were a symbol of freedom, of the mountains and the wilds.
’ He sniffs at the drink and frowns. ‘The ruling council has tamed the wild north, and they want everyone here to bear that in mind.’
I shudder, placing the glass back down, and reach for a goblet of honey-hued wine instead, knocking it back. ‘You never told me why they brought you here. What are you able to do?’ I ask Kell quietly.
He scrunches up his nose, then checks to see there are no eyes lingering on us.
He holds out his right palm, and a pale smouldering flame uncoils from his skin.
I whistle, skimming my fingertips over it, and quickly snatch them back.
It’s real. This boy can create actual fire. ‘But you’re human. You’re a boy …’
‘Magic is changing,’ Kell says, closing his fingers into a fist and snuffing out the flame.
‘Evolving. I don’t know if there are others like me, but I’m hoping that here, maybe another competitor …
’ He trails off, swallows. ‘And what the guards say about you is true? You are half human, half creature?’
I nod. ‘And though the ruling council believe me to be some huge threat, or a weapon they can use, I’m only just uncovering what it means. What I can do. And … how to control my powers.’
He tosses back his drink and wipes his mouth. ‘We’ll figure it out. Together. But right now keep your secrets close. There’s someone over there taking a keen interest in you.’
When I look round, I find a pair of eyes watching me with a sneer I know all too well.
Captain Spencer Leggan. He saunters over, bedecked in his watch uniform, and my fingers stiffen round the glass I’m holding.
The man who was going to hang my father and would have happily seen me swing from his gallows as well.
I plant my feet, the anger coiling inside me even tighter, and I wonder if I can get away with murdering him right here and now.
‘Mira Boscawen of Rosevear,’ he says, that sneer threaded through each syllable. ‘I hear you’ve gone up in the world. Subservience suits you.’
‘And you remain down with the dregs,’ I snap.
He chuckles. ‘Now, now. We’re all on the same side here. Both representing Arnhem, both with skin in the game, so to speak.’
‘What?’
‘Well, the Trials aren’t easy, are they? Not only do you have to stay alive, you also have to beat all the other contenders to the top spot and impress the right people,’ he says, then leans closer. ‘If you want your little island-wrecker friend to make it out of this court alive.’
Impress the right people?
I grit my teeth, exhaling slowly, then I smile sweetly up at him. ‘If there weren’t so many witnesses, I’d ram this glass into your throat.’
He takes a step back, the sneer dropping from his features. ‘Murderous little thing, aren’t you? Shame you’ll probably die in the Trials. I’d have taken great joy in hanging you myself.’