CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
The knee-high water didn’t have the chance to settle before Darion came bursting in behind it.
By the murderous, unhinged gleam in his eyes, I knew that he was the bearer of the flood.
Little flecks of blood marred his left cheek, and a quick glance at his crimson-stained hands proved that he’d been very, very busy.
“You’re all in one place. The gods are generous,” he crooned. His next step sent ripples from wall to wall. He laughed then, a crazed thing that had my hackles rising. “Shame, though, that you’re all awake. But I think hearing you all beg for mercy will be worth it.”
Fingers inching for the blade at my hip, I kept my eyes trained on him, anticipating the moment that he would either burst into flames, or at the very least be hurled into the wall by a gust of wind stronger than any wave he could conjure.
But my palms slickened as seconds ticked on, and the moment never came.
He cut a straight line towards me, unfazed by the small lake at his feet.
It didn’t take long to find out why. My heart plummeted, chained with an anchor of fear that brought it sinking through the floor.
Darion was drowning my allies on their own two feet. Water bubbled past their lips, each rise of their chest met with wet gurgles instead of air. Nothing was making it past the magic that held them hostage.
Theia gripped the base of her throat with both hands, coughing and sputtering while Brannon’s magic visibly fought against Darion’s—to shove the water from both their lungs. He dropped to his knees, vomiting wave after wave.
And Kodhan, stars, steam billowed from his lips each time he coughed. But that would kill him faster than drowning. He could shield himself from the heat of fire all he wished. Hot water and vapor, however, he would not be able to withstand.
“Let them go!” I cried, even though I knew it was futile.
Powerless. Weak, once again, when it mattered the most. They wouldn’t be able to last long, not like this.
“Seems like I’ve pulled a page out of Dreadmourne’s book.
” Darion feigned indifference as he studied his crimson-stained fingers.
His fingernails, still deeply caked with blood.
“I can only imagine Leyah would appreciate this image.” A sinister smile broke across his cracked lips.
“And you.” It took everything in me to force my shoulders back.
Meet his stare head-on. I prayed that my mask of disinterest was enough to hide the turmoil ravaging my insides.
“This isn’t enough water to wash the stain of your existence away from the kingdom. But I know the gods will be watching when I force all of it down your throat. And only when you fight for your last, pathetic breath, I’ll tear your heart from your chest with my bare hands.”
I was never meant to live through these trials. I had no magic. I wasn’t like them.
But my eyes flickered back to Darion’s hands, stained red despite all his water. Like the blood he’d shed was a weight he could not rid himself of. A weight I knew far too well. Had carried, over and over, for years. And I would carry it again.
And again.
As much as it would take.
I am like them, I thought. And I am much, much faster.
My vision darkened and tunneled all at once. That calculated dance, the waltz of killing, I abandoned all of it. There was no time. Before Darion could advance another step—before he could even deign to use any of his magic on me, I lunged.
This is the enemy, my mind whispered. The shadows around the room echoed in kind.
Enemy. Enemy.
The three traitors behind me were not. Maybe they never had been. Promise after promise. Save after countless save. They’d chosen to shoulder my burden. Chosen me. It didn’t matter why, not at that moment. Not when they’d done far more than they needed to. More than any ally would have.
I would choose them, too. For as long as I could.
Yanking the blade out of the waistband of my pants, I poured every single ounce of strength into a precise throw, flicking my wrist just before my fingers let go of the hilt. It wasn’t anything close to a throwing knife, but it hit home with a satisfying squelch.
Darion paused with a surprised grunt, his chin dipping so that he could properly examine the blade now embedded within the center of his chest. Not my best work. Only half of the actual blade burrowed into his skin, victim to the protective padding.
But it wouldn’t stay that way for long.
I used the hilt of the dagger to push Darion into the wall, metal sinking further into him as his back hit stone.
Wasting none of his shock, I wrenched it free.
Warm droplets of blood sprayed onto my face, mirroring the splatters on his own cheek.
No amount of protective padding could stop the impact of the blade as I plunged it into him again, slightly to the left of his sternum, between his ribs. Directly into his heart.
His pained intake of breath sang with many I’d heard before.
Death’s climax.
I lost myself in it, the roaring in my ears a steady drumbeat of encouragement. Adjusting my grip on the hilt, I wrenched the blade again, but not to take it out of him.
If his heart made any sound as it tore, I couldn’t hear it.
The roaring drowned everything else as I leaned my full weight into the blade, lips peeling back from my teeth in a snarl.
Widening the crater in his chest. My fingers, slick from his blood, slipped, nearly losing the hilt.
But I held it tighter while I spoke lowly into his ear, the edges of my vision darkening further as the shadows crept along my periphery, wanting a closer look.
“What heart?”
He finally amassed the ability to scream when my wrist twisted, locking in the damage.
I leaned back so that he could see my imperfect eyes—my cursed iris.
A reminder that I should have been infinitely weaker than him.
That I shouldn’t have been the one to best him. That he’d lost to the cursed bitch.
And maybe I was all of those things.
But I was all of those things, and he was just dead.
Once the remnants of that crazed look in his eyes dulled to blankness, I slid the dagger out of him. With nothing left to hold him up, he slumped to the ground with a loud splash. Within seconds, a cloud of red formed, tainting the water sloshing around him.
Fighting to keep my breathing steady, I turned, ever so slowly, to face my allies.
Brannon rubbed a hand along the column of his throat, like he could massage away the lingering burn of drowning. “That was efficient.” He tilted his head to the side. “Admirable. Slightly terrifying.” A racking cough. “But efficient.”
Kodhan opened his mouth, vapor still streaming from his lips, but I spoke first, bending to rinse the blade off.
With Darion no longer controlling it, the water slowly dissipated, sinking through the floor and back into whatever magical abyss it came from.
And he disappeared with it. Courtesy of Starlight Trial magic, no doubt.
Good riddance. “Brutality has kept me alive. I will not apologize for being efficient at it.”
“I was going to tell you that you have nice aim. But if you don’t want the compliment, that’s fine by me.” His words held their usual bite. But I could’ve sworn his voice was laced with pride.
Theia held her throat, too. Like she was afraid more water would flood her esophagus. “Darion would have done much worse. I highly doubt his plan was to let the rest of us die so easily. So, thank you. For saving us.”
“It was time for me to return the favor.” And that was nothing but truth.
Kodhan’s boots splashed as he came up to me. He held my hand up by the wrist, twisting it so he could examine his blade’s sharp tip. “Maybe I should actually be worried the next time you angle this thing at my throat,” he mused, pensively.
My response was rapid, pure fire. “Next time, I won’t be so gentle.”
He smiled, a real one this time. The sight of it ignited a sharp, burning hunger, straight from my core, that nearly left me gasping. His nostrils flared, a spark glinting in his eyes.
“You surprise me.”
Invisible roots wrapped around my legs. Trapping me in his warmth once again.
“Why?”
“Because, Eloise, I never pinned you as a tease.”
It took monumental amounts of effort to cast away whatever spell he’d woven around my muscles. I managed to snatch my wrist out of his hand. Then spun on my heel, and aimed to leave. Only when my back was to him did I loosen the breath I’d been holding hostage since he’d smiled.
“Where are you going?” he called out with a small laugh.
I thanked the stars that he couldn’t see the furious blush that had already crept along my cheeks. “Anywhere you’re not.” Be angry, nothing else, I ordered myself, but every thump of my heart, every nerve, battled against me.
He laughed again, loudly, and unabashedly.
I prayed to the stars almost daily. For unimportant things. Life-altering things. Hearing that laugh again…
The stars would have to suffer through yet another prayer, it seemed.
I shoved the thought away. Buried it in the furthest corners of my mind. Theia may make pretty promises, but her allegiance was to Kodhan first. I didn’t need her airing out my treacherous thoughts. My stubborn, traitorous, useless feelings.
All but three feet into were made into the corridor before I was met with the metal breastplate of a guard, who looked down at me like I was a misbehaving child out of bed after hours. Either he’d been waiting, or I was incredibly unlucky. My bets were on the latter.
“Eloise Fennhaven,” his gravelly voice boomed far too loudly. Any other competitor nearby would know exactly where I was now. “Your presence has been requested by His Majesty.”
“She’s not going anywhere.” I jumped as Kodhan’s shoulder bumped mine. Stars, he moved fast.
The man’s hand went to the pommel of his sword. “You dare defy his orders?”
Brannon was at my other side in an instant. “Wherever she goes, we go.”
“No. You both stay here. I’m sure it’s nothing,” I protested, but Theia nudged Kodhan out of the way. Laid a hand on my arm.
“The king’s orders were that the Starlight Trials be completed with allies.
What he asks would be defying his own word, and would hinder Eloise’s performance.
You cannot single her out.” Theia’s words were steady.
But my focus was trained on her hand, resting on my arm. A slight tremor racked her fingers.
She wasn’t nervous to face this guard. Far from it. She’d wiped the other one’s memory without a single thought. Had brought three extremely powerful competitors to their knees in an instant.
I narrowed my eyes at her. The slight draw of her brows. The tightness around her mouth. She was afraid, I deduced. But of what?
Of course. She was worried I’d reveal their secret. They all were.
“We move as one, or not at all,” Brannon said, rolling his shoulders. Readying to fight.
We move as one, or not at all.
They defended me like I was one of their own.
One of them.
The guard snickered. “You’ll all die as one, too. Your heads on pikes, the lot of you, if you don’t let the mutt come with me.”
Heat sprouted at my back; a sure sign Kodhan’s flames had come out to parry. “I dare you to say that again. Slowly.”
I reached back in attempts to stop him from advancing on the guard, who drew his sword.
My hand smacked against hard, unflinching muscle.
“Let it go. I’ll be fine.” I dared a quick glance over my shoulder.
I expected Kodhan to argue. Instead, his eyes were downcast, fixed solely on my hand, now flat against his chest.
“I’ll be fine,” I repeated to Theia and Brannon. “I’m sure I’ll return quickly enough.”
“We’ll come looking for you if that isn’t the case,” Brannon swore. By the determined set of his face, I worried they would cut down as many of Maverick’s guards as they needed in order to find me. Even if that meant jeopardizing their places in the final trial.
I slid a few paces closer to the guard. “Just trust me,” I pleaded, facing my three allies. “Stay put. And don’t draw attention to yourselves.” It was the last thing they needed.
They said nothing, though Theia gave a reluctant nod. Her deep frown was far from reassuring.
But it was Kodhan that unsettled me the most. He usually wore his anger with a pride I almost envied. Now, I couldn’t read his expression at all. The complete and utter stillness of him raised the hairs at the back of my neck.
Unable to look at him any longer, I turned away.
Despite the growing distance between us while I followed the guard, I almost felt his presence, trailing at my heels like a building storm. It was as though he himself followed invisibly, hand in hand with the fiery depths of the Underworld.
And he was ready to unleash it upon everything in his path.