CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Pain erupted across my skull, slicing into the echo of war drums ricocheting off my subconsciousness.
Startling awake, I tried grasping at its threads, a sudden urgency to remember forcing me to sit up straight, but adrenaline slammed down the length of my veins, smearing any fragmented images. Like swiping a hand across a fresh, unfinished canvas.
Just the wall, I realized, pressing my fingers against the tender spot on my head. No enemies perched in the corners of the room. None stood, claws raised, teeth barred, by the foot of the bed.
Theia had insisted I take the bed, but I refused to lie in it.
I sat ramrod straight at the head of it instead, back against the wall, legs crossed over its undisturbed blankets.
If anyone decided to attack us, I wanted to be ready.
If it meant cracking my head against the wall every time my head lolled too far while I slept, so be it.
My eyes landed on Kodhan, still sitting with his arms crossed in the chair he’d set against the door the last time he’d been awake. His head rested against the wood, eyes closed. Though I didn’t believe for a second that he was in any deep kind of slumber.
All the hardness and anger melted from his face when he slept—or at least pretended to. It suited him better, that calmness. It almost made him look younger. Kinder.
Theia and Brannon rested by the opposite wall, her back against his chest, his arms wrapped around her middle. Her chest rose and fell evenly. At least that made one of us that could sleep properly.
Brannon, unlike Kodhan, wasn’t feigning sleep. He shot me a smile.
Out of all of us, he’d gotten the least amount of rest, catching my eye every time I twitched out of unconsciousness. I partially returned his smile, adjusting so that my spine didn’t grate against the wall so heavily.
“No rest for the wicked, I suppose,” he mused softly, chin bobbing against the crown of Theia’s head as he spoke.
I hummed in agreement. “Sleep is for the dead.”
“You’re alright, though?” he asked, noting the hardness of my shoulders. The way my fingers tapped a frustrated beat against the sheets.
With a one-shouldered shrug, I nodded half-heartedly. I still couldn’t shake that strange urgency. Still couldn’t remember a thing about my dream, save for the eerie war drums, no matter how hard I tried. “Just tired. And you?”
He winked. “Best shape of my life.”
True to my exhaustion, I laughed, having to cover it with my hand in order to stay quiet. His smile grew until his own laugh entwined with mine, bouncing off the four walls holding us hostage.
A heavy knock pounded on the door at that moment. It stunned us both into silence.
In one smooth motion, Kodhan shot to his feet, hefting the chair over his shoulder by its legs, ready to swing it. I was right. He hadn’t been asleep after all.
My boots were already on the ground.
Brannon and I helped Theia to her feet, though she barely needed it. She wordlessly wiped at the sleep in her eyes but demonstrated an exemplary alertness despite just waking.
The door burst open to reveal one of Maverick’s guards, clad in a steel-plated black and gold uniform with the Starlight Trials insignia etched into the sleeves.
Battle could break out at any moment, Maverick often said. He expected his guards to dress as such. Always.
“His Majesty has requested that all competitors are to follow us to the next trial immediately,” the guard ordered, eyeing us all like we’d interrupted his good night’s sleep.
“Not before you tell us what those are for.” Brannon gestured to the guard’s hand. Four pieces of blue material dangled from his fist.
“Blindfolds,” the guard answered bluntly. Arrogantly. Already bordering on impatience. I could already tell that Gideon likely hated him.
“Not for us, they’re not.” Kodhan warned, chair still hoisted over his shoulder.
“King’s orders.”
“Fuck the king’s orders.”
The guard reached for the sword at his hip.
Though he only drew it a few inches out of its holster, it still sang.
“Careful what you wish for, boy. Jareth’s son or not, I’ll wrap this blindfold around your neck and hang you with it if you speak about His Majesty like that again.
” He added, with a crooked smile, “Your father can light you a nice pyre—stuff your corpse into the flames for all to see. Just how you like it, isn’t that right? ”
Kodhan took all but one step before Brannon intervened, taking hold of the chair before Kodhan could swing it. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. The blindfolds are an obligation for the trial, correct?”
“And what if they weren’t? His Majesty gave gods-damned orders, and you’re expected to obey,” the guard sneered.
Low murmurs filled the hall behind him. Likely other guards, though it was hard to tell how many.
I approached the guard and put my back to him. “This is ridiculous, and a waste of time. Just put the damned thing on.” If Maverick wanted theatrics, I’d give him theatrics. Anything to make this go faster.
“See?” he crooned, tying one around my eyes. He was far from careful. Pulled it tighter than necessary, enough to hurt. “At least the king’s mutt sees reason.”
The contents of my stomach turned to lead. Despite seeing nothing at all, tiny red spots danced behind my closed eyelids.
Asshole.
A loud clatter startled me, accompanied by a sickening crack.
Ripping the blindfold off, I gasped as I found Brannon physically holding Kodhan back from the guard who now stood plastered against the wall, eyes glassy, nose jutting out at an odd angle. Blood dribbled down both his nostrils, painting his upper lip.
“For gods’ sake,” Theia hissed at the fire-wielder. “You couldn’t have let it wait?”
“He is lucky that’s all he got,” Kodhan snarled, his rage peeling back his upper lip to reveal his teeth.
It should have terrified me. Should have sent me running as far as my legs could take me.
In that moment, he barely even looked human.
But all I felt was a twinge of intrigue, daring me to step closer to him.
To see what, exactly, he could do if he focused all that dark energy into something else. Teeth and all.
I dug my nails into my palms. Forcefully enough that blood pooled between my fingers. The Starlight Trials weren’t even halfway over, and I had already lost my mind.
Kodhan tried shouldering out of Brannon’s grip, but his friend held firm. “If Brannon would simply take his hands off of me, I’ll give him the fucking rest.”
Theia could have brought us all to our knees with her magic if she wished. But instead, she gave the Son of the Second an impressive smack upside the head.
It seemed to shake Kodhan out of his anger-induced stupor. He stopped struggling, only to pin his ire on her. Theia was having none of it. “I know exactly what he deserves. But now is not the time.”
“She’s right,” Brannon said, pointing to the open door. To where anyone could pass by and see the mess that was this room.
Grumbling something incomprehensible, she aimed a scalding glare Kodhan’s way before stalking up to the guard and cranked his nose back into position with another unsettling crack. Then used his own arm to wipe away the blood dribbling down his chin.
“By the stars,” I whispered with a twinge of fascination. It was as though the guard’s very soul had been sucked out of him. Not a lick of pain registered behind those dull eyes.
“Not to worry, he won’t remember a thing. I’ll lessen his pain until we’re out of range.” She waved what was supposed to be a reassuring hand, though I didn’t feel reassured at all.
“You… can alter his memories?”
It dawned on me once again that I was completely defenseless against her magic.
I firmly wiped my palms against my outer thighs to stop my hands from trembling. Welcomed the sting of the crescent moon shaped cuts rubbing against the material.
Her attention fell to my hands, lips tipping into a small frown before she said, “It takes a lot of effort, but yes. Now step back. Put your blindfold back on. And you.” She whirled back towards Kodhan. “Behave.”
There was nothing I could do other than obey. Swallow against the sour taste of guilt and hypocrisy as I tied the blindfold back around my eyes.
That woman was a force to be reckoned with.
Our conversation from beneath the wisteria tree came floating back to me.
I have no thirst for power. Only to stop the suffering of the ones I love. A force to be reckoned with, but a foolish one, indeed.
“What the fuck just happened?” the guard said on a sharp intake of breath.
That quickly, she released his mind. Had already finished tampering with his memory, like wiping a smudge off a glass window.
“You were about to blindfold us,” Theia insisted, her tone forcefully light.
The guard mumbled something about too much wine and too much smoke as his boots clomped against the floor. Finishing his original task.
I could almost feel Kodhan vibrating from the force of his anger. Though he thankfully remained silent.
He’d attacked the guard for insulting me, I thought. Would’ve pummeled the man to a pulp by the looks of it. But why?
Does it matter? That traitorous, selfish voice whispered back.
No. Not at all. I would’ve been happy to see him do it again. And again.
One of those rough hands wrapped around my arm, forcing my legs to take carry me out of the room.
“Stop!” A voice called out from further down the corridor. “Orders from His Majesty!”
The guard at my side loudly huffed his displeasure. “For fuck’s sake. What is it?” Other guards muttered similar curses nearby.
The second voice grew closer, accompanied by a constant, aggravating squeal that bounced off the close proximity of the walls. “His Eminence has decided that all competitors are to eat before the next trial. All other activities must halt immediately.”
Of course. We were all starving by now. None of us had eaten since the celebration before Strength. But now seemed a strange time as any to force food down our throats.