Chapter 62
62
N octerin disappeared, and in his place, a blade clattered to the stone floor of the open air temple.
I recognized it as the Bluesteel Blade—back once more.
“Thanks for coming this time,” I muttered to the blade. It glowed in acknowledgement—no longer deigning to speak to me like the first time it had called to me.
I rushed to pick it up, falling into a fighting stance as King West slowly descended from the dune, every step promising death as he approached the open air temple.
“ You ,” King West said. “You have ruined everything .”
“Why? Because I didn’t allow you to use me for your slaughter?” I spat at him as he reached the marble floor. A wind whipped errant sand particles through the temple, but King West continued his slow approach.
“You were mine to use,” he said, withdrawing his sword from his scabbard, and I held my ground in the center of the open air temple.
“Spoken like true spoiled royalty,” I said, and then in several swift steps, our blades were clashing.
The Bluesteel Blade was heavy, but I hefted it against every strike of his sword, my footwork fast and agile against his punishing power. I stayed focused on preserving my energy, the adrenaline coursing through my veins as we circled each other. He was strong, but he was just a pampered royal. I was a warrior .
I always had been.
He pulled back, watching me as we circled each other. “You think you’re special? You’re not. You’re just a baker’s daughter who stumbled into being the object of a godsdamned prophecy. Even fate wants you to do its bidding. Why do you think that sword keeps showing up when you need it the most?”
With that, he sliced out at me, and my blade arced up to meet his, our swords crossing. I fought against his strength as he bore down on me.
“I don’t care as long as I can use it to kill you,” I ground out, and took a sidestep, releasing my blade and stepping aside just as he rushed at me.
He stumbled slightly, but then we resumed circling each other. A slow smile spread across his lips. “You’re not even curious what the goddess Orsi wants from you? After all, you’ve been given every advantage you’ve needed to win these trials. Allies, weapons, a new power…”
I had, hadn’t I? How much had my fate been written in stone, and how much had I done myself? The thought clanged through my mind with so much force that I was caught off-guard by King West’s next advance, and I ducked—narrowly missing his blade as he slashed out at me with surprising agility.
I took a few steps back, resuming my fighting stance. Get it together, Saffron .
“I will win these trials fair and square,” I said, and I meant it. I wasn’t going to be able to get close enough to him to use my Siphon powers on him even if I wanted to.
“You sound just like me when I entered my first Ash Trial,” he said, and my mouth went dry.
“You… you were a contestant in one of the Ash Trials?”
King West grinned. “Oh, dear Saffron. I wasn’t just a contestant—I was a winner. See? We’re not so different, you and I. Despite being of noble blood, I wanted to prove to the gods that I would be a worthy warden for this island, and so I entered the trials when I came of age to do just that. I beat murderers and shifters and monsters of all different kinds. I killed them all to prove my allegiance to these sleeping gods. That’s why they let me preside over the games each year. And that’s why they’ll let me kill you .”
Then, King West lunged at me, and we were a clash of steel and force once more. But this time, his prim manner devolved. He became a swift, agile fighter.
He had been holding back on me.
The Bluesteel Blade began to grow heavy in my arms as I fought off his onslaught. Maybe he was right—maybe the gods had only let me get this far because I was some agent of fate. Maybe I had never been worthy of the blade or the title of winner.
No.
You do not choose death for yourself.
Tristen’s words ignited a fury within me. Even if I had gotten help from my allies, from the gods, from a mysterious power, I was still me . I may not win this fight with pure strength or agility, but I could try and outwit the King. He had been locked away in his gilded palace for so long, allowing his men to fight his battles for him. The ingenuity demanded of a battlefield was something he was no longer intimate with.
But I was.
I took a jab forward, allowing my left side to be exposed—hoping he would take the bait. When he saw it, he lunged for me. But I spun out of the way, slashing my sword against his side.
His blood spilled immediately, and as I stepped backward to get out of his path, I saw that I had landed not a killing blow, but one close enough where my next strikes could be fatal if he slowed down.
I grinned, realizing that I was about to win this.
But then King West straightened as well, a mirror of a grin on his face.
I frowned as a drop of blood hit the sand-dusted marble below me. The crimson droplet marred the marble floor, and as I looked down, I saw that he had cut me on my arm. Not deep, but enough for me to bleed.
And that would be enough for him to destroy me.
I clamped my arm against my chest, trying to keep the blood from him, but he just reached inside his jacket pocket, unscrewing a vial of something.
“It’s a shame, really. We could have accomplished so much together,” he said, and then raised his other hand.
I screamed as my blood shot for him, my vein emptying as his blood magic pulled it to him. But as it reached him, he simply overturned the vial, a liquid intermingling with my levitating blood droplets. Then, with a flick of his wrist, he sent my blood back to my body.
I stumbled back, trying to shield my wound from it, but his power was too precise. As my blood squeezed back into my veins, I knew something was wrong as my body reacted.
I stumbled back, suddenly feeling hot and heavy.
Poison .
“Not… fair…” I ground out, staggering a few steps backward to the edge of the temple where the sand dunes lay behind me.
“You think I would fight fair?” he asked, and threw his head back, laughing. “This is why you will die, Saffron Vale. Your morality is your greatest weakness. You don’t have the stomach for true victory.”
It was the lapse in attention I needed.
I turned, sprinting to where the marble dropped off into sand behind me, grasping for a handful of sand. As I hurtled back to him, he lowered his gaze to me, and I threw the sand in his eyes—a move that I had seen Callum use. Still helping me, even now .
He screamed and dropped his blade. At his heart, he was still a member of royalty who couldn’t stomach a moment of discomfort even in amidst a fight to the death.
As he clutched at his eyes, I grabbed his fallen sword. It was heavy, and the edges of my vision were beginning to darken, my tongue growing fat in my cotton-dry mouth as the poison burned through my veins like wildfire.
Then, I stood to my full height, wielding both his blade and mine.
Just like my memory of when I fought with the rebels and by Tristen’s side.
King West raised his head, and in that moment he saw his death.
“May Illumia be with you,” I said. In one smooth movement, I sliced both swords through his neck, severing it.
His head rolled to my feet.
I had won the sixth trial.
My swords clattered to the ground, the King’s blood staining the floor of the temple.
I fell to my knees, the world swaying as the poison took hold, blurring my vision.
“Saffron!” I heard Tristen’s voice, felt him as he caught me before I hit the floor.
I reached up to touch him as he held my head in his lap, my vision doubling. “You came back.”
“I got back as soon as I could. You’re hurt?—”
“Poison,” I mumbled, the words falling heavy from my mouth.
“No,” he said, gripping me to him. “It can’t be.”
“I love you,” I said, fighting back the pain as every piece of me felt as if it had been set on fire. “I wish we had more time. That’s all I want.”
Tristen’s eyes were full of anguish. “You can’t leave me, Saffron. You can’t . I just found you again.”
My heart started beating faster, the poison creeping deeper into my fragile human organs, starting to turn them off one-by-one as my skin grew hot and then cold. “I fought, like you told me to.”
“You did. I’m so proud of you, but you need to keep fighting ,” he said, his voice full of panic. “NOCTERIN!” he screamed.
My vision grew hazy. I thought I saw another swirl of shadows, but as the world slanted and slipped around me, I couldn’t be sure.
“It will cost you,” that voice rumbled.
“I will pay any price,” Tristen said. “ Please . Save her.”
The last thing I saw before I passed out was a lightning bolt that shot from the sky, and I felt Tristen buckle in pain, crying out, gripping me harder against him as he screamed again.