Chapter 23
only six of us contenders remain. As I walk through the tunnel, Kell by my side, all I can hear is the slow thundering of my own heart.
I see the arena in blinks, taking in the sun gilding the crowd, the wide bowl of pale blue sky, then the ground beneath us.
Green and lush, with gentle rolling hills and bushes.
For this, the last Trial, they have allowed us a weapon of our choice, anything except rifles.
A blade is strapped at my hip, a bow and arrow strapped across Kell’s back.
But, even though we all now have weapons, somehow, I know they are not meant for us to turn on each other.
Kell and I speculated what this Trial would be, after a sea with a listing ship and a labyrinth.
We continued to train, even with Hira absent, the guards giving us no news of her whereabouts.
Was she investigating the new law the ruling council planned to pass?
Or had she been reassigned by her Malefant and the ruling council, our fates left to ourselves to figure out after we failed to win the first two Trials?
I kick a stone at the edge of the tunnel, watching as it tumbles down to thud into the grass below.
Will it be another land-based Trial? Now I gaze at those rolling hills, it seems certain that it is.
But who or what enemy we must fight is unclear.
Soturi’s death has haunted me this past week, his drake crying out over and over across Highborn.
I curled up in a ball and picked at my food for two days and nights.
Mourning the loss of my freedom, my old way of life, the people I loved who are gone.
But then I rose. And I reminded myself that it’s not over. I’m still alive. Kell is still alive and so is Agnes. Our hearts still beat in their cage of a palace and the ruling council has not broken us yet. I must stare down death one final time.
The ruling council has a last trick to test us – that’s clear from the serene scene of the arena.
To see who will triumph, who will fall, and decide on the narrative they will write to suit their own ends.
If I succeed, I will be their champion, proving the strength of the ruling council.
If I fail, I will be dead, symbolising the fall of the isles and how they have brought us all to heel.
They will use me like the pawn I am to them, to suit their own ends.
But we have our own plans. Our own allies in this Trial.
We’re led down to the arena, the guards escorting us as a group to the very middle.
I look around, ignoring the crowd, taking in the terrain.
There are very few places to hide. We’re mostly exposed.
Wind whistles through the space, stirring my hair, and I bend low, placing my hand on the grass. All real. There is no spellwork here.
Sember sidles over, leaning in to murmur in my ear. ‘She’s in the crowd. She’s watching.’
I grow still, blood beating hot through my veins. Agnes is here. They’ve brought her to the Trials again. ‘Where?’
‘East of us, ten o’clock. She’s in a balcony box with the ruling council. Her bruises have faded, but she’s tried escaping multiple times, so I’ve been told. Her guards have been rotated out; they refuse to guard her.’
‘Why?’ I ask, forcing myself not to look. Not to seek her out just yet.
‘She bites.’
I chuckle, low in my throat. ‘That’s my girl.’
‘We have a plan, and you have to trust us. But, first, we need to get through the Trial, to survive it.’
‘To win it, you mean,’ I say, side-eyeing her.
After today, I’ll know if she’s been able to stick to her word, to our deal.
That she might actually have got Agnes out of here.
I’ve fought against trusting her, but, despite all that has happened and the betrayals I have faced, I do.
I really do trust her. Perhaps I just trusted the wrong people before, like Seth.
But maybe I shouldn’t close the door on trusting others completely.
We need her today. I need her to come through for us.
She inclines her head. ‘That too. Winning is for Heath. I promise that if you’d met his father you would understand.’
‘We have a deal, Sember Lockswift,’ I say, turning to her. ‘You’re saving Agnes’s, Kell’s and my life today by helping us escape. That’s all I need to understand. Thank you. Can you share any of your plan?’
She winces. ‘If I do, and it doesn’t work, then it implicates those I am working with. For now, we need them to seem loyal to the ruling council. You will learn who your true allies are soon enough.’
‘All right.’ I sigh softly, willing myself to just trust, as I trusted my people on Rosevear before all this. As I trusted the others in the seven I swam out with on the rope, with my life. Every time, as natural as breath.
Sember nods, ending the discussion, and turns back to the arena. ‘I’ve heard they’ve saved the worst until last.’
‘Predictable.’
‘Indeed.’
I take a moment then to survey the crowd, gaze lingering on the eastern stands.
My stomach drops when I see Agnes, everything else falling away.
She’s unmistakable, her wild red hair, her pale face, her eyes burning with hate.
I fix her in my mind, the simmering rage, ever present, burning in my heart.
They thought they could capture us and bend us to their will.
They were wrong. We will never be theirs, in our hearts, in our souls.
‘Contenders!’ a voice projects over the arena. ‘Welcome to the third and final Trial. Your objective this time is simple. Survive.’
The gong sounds, the crowd cheers, and the six of us exchange glances in confusion. We pull out our weapons, ready for what is to come. Silence stretches across the massive space. Even the crowd is growing still. What are we meant to survive?
‘I don’t like this,’ Kell whispers, readying an arrow in his bow. ‘If we all survive, what then? We all win?’
‘I imagine this Trial is so awful that they’re expecting to scrape what’s left of most of us off this finely clipped grass. That, or watch us forfeit like cowards,’ Heath remarks, drawing his sword. ‘I suggest we put aside our differences. Fight the common enemy.’
‘Agreed,’ says Fey, also palming a sword. I haven’t seen her since the last Trial, and her eyes are hollowed out and raw. My heart bleeds for her. For Soturi. For her loss. ‘We can worry about victory later. I don’t like the feel of this.’
A drake cry sounds from somewhere to the west and she breathes a name, which sounds something like Javilick. She swallows, turning to us. ‘That was my drake, that was his warning cry! For—’
Then the sky shatters all around us.
I flinch as the sky, once pale blue, is now crowded with something else, something other.
Fey spits on the ground. ‘Wyvern.’
Panic engulfs me and I have to force myself to count them, to control my breathing.
Five, six, seven, eight, nine. There are nine wyvern in the sky, moving swiftly towards us.
In all the previous Trials Hira had listed and researched, none mentioned wyvern.
I look across to the ruling council, lounging in their seats, watching on idly.
Do they want a spectacle today, or a massacre?
‘The stands are warded,’ the commentator booms as the crowd begins to shriek and scream, some scrambling from their seats. ‘The creatures will not harm you!’
‘Only us,’ says Sapira bitterly, blade in hand. ‘I should have forfeited; I should have left …’
‘It’s too late to think of that,’ Fey says, drawing herself up to her full height.
‘They’re pack monsters. They hunt for sport, and if we’re in a tight group, we’re more of a target.
Spread out. Get into pairs. Sapira, come with me.
Don’t try to bolt and forfeit, they’ll pick you off.
Everyone, aim for the mouth, the eyes or the belly.
The wings will burn, if you can somehow make fire.
’ She flicks a look over us all. ‘It is my honour to fight beside you.’
Then she’s gone, Sapira chasing after her. I look to Kell, then back at the wyvern, now close enough for us to see the span of batlike wings, the mean eyes, the dark scales and vicious claws. ‘Sember? Heath? It’s your call. We can stick with you or split up like Fey said and try to draw some off.’
‘I can’t see how you’d have any control over drawing them away,’ Sember says. ‘We’re all pretty much done for.’
Kell opens his palm and pale flame ignites, curling upwards. ‘Surprise.’
Sember is quiet for a moment then laughs, a breathless, delighted sound. Then she pulls a coin from her pocket, flips it up, and into her hand lands a silver blade. She winks at him, holding two blades now, narrowed to deathly points. ‘Surprise, yourself.’
‘Nice,’ I say, nodding. And all those moments click into place.
When Sember led us through that door in the side of the palace, she unlocked it as though by …
magic. And it was. Her magic. The walls of the maze, the bronze sheer sheets of them, all metal.
Of course she could open and close each door at will.
She can manipulate metals. I smile, hope igniting in my chest, and jerk my chin at the twin blades she now holds. ‘Know how to use those?’
Heath rolls his shoulders, then twirls his sword in one hand, as if it weighs nothing.
‘In Skylan, we train from birth. Sember and I met in the military.’ He flashes me a wicked grin and I realise this prince has been holding out on us.
He’s not affected or weak at all, as they both led us to believe.
His eyes settle into a deadly stare and I know I’ve grossly underestimated them both. ‘First kill wins.’
I grin back, raising a hand to the sky. ‘You’re on, prince.’
Then as the first wave of three wyvern bear down on us, I dig deep inside myself. I don’t consider control, or how much it will take from me. I mould all I am, all the fury, the love, the burning need to live, to be free … and I call a storm towards me.
I call it down upon us all.
Thunder booms in the distance, answering my call. And Sember’s eyes widen, her head tilting towards me. ‘Did you … Is that you?’
‘Haven’t you heard? I’m dangerous. The ruling council want me dead. Either that, or to control me. Make me their weapon to wield,’ I say lightly.
‘It’s true, then,’ Sember breathes. ‘The ruling council intend to use you to make the Straits impassable. Now I understand.’
‘They call me Storm Bringer, but I am no one’s weapon. I intend to break them all.’
The sky darkens as clouds roll overhead.
And as the rain begins to shower down, the first wyvern reaches the arena.
Kell sets an arrow aflame, pulls it back and releases it.
We hear the hideous shriek as it connects, exactly where he intended.
Then the wyvern hits the ground, sprawling across the grass.
One wing flutters, then falls still, an arrow sprouting from one eye.
Kell exhales softly, reaches for another arrow and nocks it against the bowstring. ‘I used to hunt the rabbits on Egan. They got too clever for traps, so I had to learn to use a bow and arrow. I believe I take the win, prince.’
Heath laughs, shaking his head as the other two wyvern beat a path around us, shrieking and hawking. ‘If you need a job after this, I could use a decent guard.’
‘It would be my honour,’ Kell says, then lights up a second arrow with pale flame from his palm, and lets it fly. It finds its mark, burying into a wyvern’s throat. The wyvern drops to the ground, already dead before it hits a small hill.
Heath doesn’t have time to reply as the third dives suddenly, claws reaching for him.
He ducks and rolls at the last minute, angling his sword up to nick the wyvern’s belly.
It roars, flying upwards as the second wave begins to descend through the rain, the rest still hovering above, as though to draw out the spectacle of our deaths.
Three more, bigger than the last, all splitting up to soar in a ring round the arena.
I steel myself, reaching towards the clouds and feel the first crackle of lightning, of the power I’ve been too afraid to unleash as a wyvern dives straight for us.