35. Chapter 35
35
Zara
T he moon hadn’t yet crested the mountain as Ivy, Tomas, Eudoria, and I paraded out into the freezing night air. Eudoria wasn’t allowed help this time, so she hobbled along as best she could. Samuel was still too weak to leave the infirmary, and I hoped he wouldn’t have to endure this trial. We peeled out of a tiny, arched door and descended a narrow stairwell that zigzagged down the steep rock face until it spilled out onto a flat, long terrace. On one side was a sharp cliff; on the other, stands had been cut into the mountainside. I’d seen this place weeks ago, at the time being reminded of our back terrace, where Nina hosted tea parties in the spring.
But as the stands filled with fae, I realized that this was no terrace built for parties.
Ivy leaned forward and whispered, “This was where my first trial took place. We were blindfolded and told to follow the person who led us forward.” She choked back a sob. “They led us straight over the cliff. Tomas and I only lived because we heard the fae screaming with laughter as…as…”
“Someone fell,” I finished.
As I scanned the steps where fae were already assembling, I couldn’t see Cas, or his sister. The fae filed onto the steps, laughing loudly as they clinked wine glasses and wobbled into their seats where they would happily watch us die. The air bit at my shoulders and swirled around my feet. Ivy crushed my hand in a death grip as we paraded out onto the terrace.
“The heir isn’t here,” I observed, trying to sound casual. If he wasn’t here, he couldn’t save me. I’d have to survive this one on my own.
Tomas turned a deep frown toward us. “The heir didn’t order this trial. His father did.”
“His father?” I parroted.
Ivy was trembling and staring blankly at the cliff’s edge.
Tomas nodded. “The Shadow King is returning. He ordered that no entertainers be alive upon his arrival at midnight.”
The blood in my veins pumped hard, barely enough to counter the cold air surging around me. Casimiro would die upon his father’s arrival. Even if I somehow survived tonight, he wouldn’t.
A hollow sensation filled me, pushing aside the cold, fear, and confusion that clogged my senses. My gaze traveled to the stands, where one seat in the center stood out from the rest of the stone benches. It was clearly the seat of honor. And it was empty.
Empty like the void inside me that expanded as memories of Cas flooded through me.
My stomach knotted and flipped, and I sucked in a desperate breath. If I never saw him again, I’d never know what it felt like to kiss him, and I suddenly wanted very badly to do so.
As we waited on the moonlit terrace for instructions, I tried to take in as many details of our new arena as I could. There was a sheer drop, unguarded by any railings, on my right and stands on my left. At the far end of the platform, a dark tunnel waited ominously. The platform was exposed, a perfect landing site for dragons. But the dragons hadn’t killed me, which was why the fae were angry, so I doubted that was what they had in mind tonight.
Erik rose to his feet. “Shadow Lords and Ladies,” he shouted, drawing everyone’s attention. “Tonight we have some special entertainment certain to delight you.” Several cheers rose from the crowd. “As ordered by our sovereign, all five remaining entertainers must die by midnight.”
“Five?” Ivy asked, glancing between me and Tomas.
Just then, a burly fae with long black hair walked out onto the terrace, carrying a bandaged Samuel. To my horror, he dropped Samuel without ceremony onto the stone. Samuel barely rocked but his moans pierced my sanity.
I lurched toward him, but Tomas was faster. He reached Samuel and scooped him up. Tomas was shorter than lanky Samuel, but his chest was like a barrel, and he hefted him over to us.
The fae had dressed us all in extravagant white clothing tonight, perhaps angry with our previous choice to avoid wearing enchanted clothes, and we stood like ghosts in the moonlit darkness.
By the time Erik sat down once more, my chest had started to shake from bone-deep cold. The ruffled dress they’d given me pressed against my body in the wind, doing next to nothing to stave off the stinging ache rising in my calves and arms.
I glanced at Ivy, but her face was fixed on the ground near her feet. Her body was trembling. They’d given her a pretty white dress to wear, as well. It was looser than mine, not cut for a flamenco dance, but more the thin, drapey dress that would be worn during a tango. She looked mortified with the slits that went halfway up her thighs.
I heard the hooves before I saw what approached. A thunderous sound echoed through the belly of the mountain. Then, out of a dark archway at the end of the terrace, a bull larger than I’d ever seen barreled forward.
In Leor, I’d seen bullfights. I’d just never once imagined I’d be in one.
“Don’t run,” I yelled over the wind and the hoofbeats. But it was no use.
Ivy darted away, and Tomas staggered with Samuel, clearly at a loss for what to do. Ivy’s flashing white dress caught the bull’s eye. As it charged, the skin on its neck sloshed from side to side, and its horns reached out and forward, directly toward my friend.
“Turn!” I shouted. Bullfighters never ran away from the bulls. They stood their ground. They even held out capes to attract the bull toward them. Unfortunately, Ivy had nothing but her wispy white dress and the cliff to one side.
As the animal charged toward Ivy, I turned aside.
At the chorus of boos, I yanked my head back around and yelped. Ivy was on the ground, lying on her stomach at the cliff’s edge. Her hands were clamped over her head, but I couldn’t see any blood.
Still supporting Samuel, Tomas whooped victoriously as the bull arced around for another charge. As he shuffled toward Ivy, I realized what she’d done. And it was brilliant . Tomas hurried for the cliff edge with Samuel limping along beside him, but they were too slow. The bull clattered a few more steps as it slowed, then laboriously turned around and grunted, angry that it had missed its target.
It focused on Tomas and Samuel and charged.
“No!”
Tomas couldn’t outrun or outmaneuver the bull while helping another man.
He took the horn directly in the back.
It hooked him and Tomas was lifted into the air. Samuel’s body lopped off to the side, where he used his uninjured arm to scoot his body toward the cliff edge, where Ivy lay.
I watched in horror as the bull hurled Tomas farther than I’d known was possible. There was so much blood.
Tomas’s white outfit darkened, and he didn’t get up. I took one step, then pressed both hands to my mouth as silent screams poured out. As long as the bull was on the loose, I couldn’t move. Eudoria stood several paces away, slightly bent but unmoving.
A bull wasn’t going to charge something that it didn’t consider a threat, and my friends, no more than small white heaps lying at the cliff’s edge, weren’t registering as a threat to this massive animal. It must be torture for Ivy to remain so close to the edge, but she’d been smart to go there, where the animal’s instincts would tell it not to go.
The bull’s hooves clacked as it spun, searching for the next target. Some of the fae cheered, while others booed. Ivy was right, then. There were fae in this court who didn’t want us to die tonight. Despite their protests, they weren’t intervening, which meant they weren’t as brave as I’d hoped. Cas and Alba were still nowhere in sight. My chest curled forward as sadness and fear warred against my determination to stand completely still.
Something hard hit me on the shoulder, and I spun away in pain. An apple rolled to the stones beside me and in the stands, Erik crossed his arms in a satisfied way.
The bull noticed my movement.
I didn’t have time to think. The animal charged toward me so fast that I could take one, maybe two more steps before he was going to maul me. He was so much bigger now that he was running right at me.
Almost on instinct, I stepped back, lifting my arms up and pressing my chest and stomach backward, the way I’d seen matadors arch their bodies. The bull charged through the space that my chest had vacated. The edges of his horns tore through the ruffles in my still moving dress. For a second, I couldn’t breathe, startled that I had survived the first pass. People in the stands clapped. Others shouted their disapproval.
I had one aim, and that was to get myself and Eudoria to the cliff edge. I too, could wait out the night beside Ivy, but the windblown ruffles of my white dress, looked too much like the flags the matadors used to draw the bull’s attention.
“Get to the edge,” I called to Eudoria as I raced toward her. Though we were only a dozen paces apart, there was too much distance between us. The bull would gore me long before I reached her.
Sparks flew as the animal’s hooves hit the rocks. The ring in his nose glistened in the moonlight as he charged toward me once again. In the two seconds I had to contemplate how I would avoid him this time, I recalled the way the bullfighters spun away from the bull at the last possible second. But I hadn’t trained for this. The complex movement involved arching sideways at the same time you spun. I was a dancer, but I’d never danced with a bull before. Still, I had no choice. He was coming toward me, and I was either going to move or die.
I tried the move again. This time I shoved my hips to the side and tried to spin into the movement, but the bull’s horn clipped my stomach and ripped through me, yanking me into a wild spin. I smacked the stone so hard that everything around me went black.
Extreme pain and intense cold were my first sensations when my eyes pried open. My face was pressed against smooth rock, and a frozen wind blasted against my back. I was near the cliff’s edge. The stands were still full of fae—screaming, hollering, stomping, laughing. As thunderous hooves clacked against stone, I rotated my face, unable to move my body. Warmth pooled under my stomach, where the pain was sharpest.
Hands started petting the side of my neck and face. “Zara. Zara.” It was Ivy’s voice. I lifted my head and looked at her. She was still lying on the ground, her arms extended toward me. She must have dragged my body over here to get it out of the bull’s trajectory.
My hand moved to my stomach, and I winced. Blood coated my fingers.
“It’ll be all right,” Ivy was saying. “There’s a lot of blood, but it’s not as bad as it looks. It’s not even deep.” Whether or not the cut was deep, it still burned like a branding iron was lying against my skin.
Our white outfits must have caught the bull’s attention. He was angry now, and there were no targets left. Eudoria had flattened herself to the stone right where she’d stood—a smart move, considering she couldn’t walk quickly, much less spin away from a charging bull. The bull spotted Ivy and me, and he charged, despite our closeness to the cliff’s edge. Perhaps he’d been enchanted to come for us or was so mad he no longer cared.
“At the last minute, we roll out of the way,” I shouted to Ivy over the hooves. “Ready?” Ivy nodded and tucked her arms against her sides.
It was a stupid idea, dangerous and desperate. But we didn’t have time to try anything else.
As the bull charged, another sound rose over the clack of his hooves. Drumbeats in the night sky.
Ivy screamed, and I started to roll early, fear and survival instincts banishing reason and logic. I grunted in pain as the wound on my stomach stretched with my movement. The hoofbeats suddenly stopped, and a strong blast of cold air pushed all my hair from my face. I gaped at the sight.
An enormous dragon—the same pale dragon who’d torched me—gripped the bull in her talons and pumped her wings hard to gain height with her heavy load. Every sound on the platform and in the stands was silenced as the dragon flew off into the night.
Ivy pulled me away from the cliff edge and helped me stand. I was lightheaded, and my limbs were going numb. But as we turned to face the fae, I realized that while we might have survived the trial, they were not happy. Several fae leaped from the stands and raced toward us, eyes full of rage.
Others hurried back to the pathways leading into the mountain, while a small number of fae drew swords and attempted to hold back their fellow courtiers from attacking us. Tomas lay unmoving on the cold terrace.
Heaving from the gash in my stomach and the fear clawing at my mind, I clutched Ivy’s arm as we hurried to the path that would take us back inside. “Tell me more about this First and Last. Does your god listen to prayers?”
I listened intently as Ivy recited what was clearly a memorized mantra of sorts that described her god. My knees buckled beneath me at her beautiful words, despite the impossible hope in them. As the fae rushed toward us, I fisted my hands and prepared to defend myself and my friend to the end, however quickly that end might come.
A dark shape shot down from the clouds above, wings spread wide.
Cas landed in a crouch on the terrace before us, cracking the stone beneath him. His wings dissipated in the night as he shifted from shadow to flesh. When he stood, authority radiated off of Cas like I’d not seen before. His eyes burned blue and the air around him shimmered with writhing shadows. The skin on his arms was black, and the darkness crept up his neck.
“No one touches her,” he said. “No one touches any of them.”