CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
By the silence that coated the corridors when I returned to the first floor, I knew Darion’s friends had called off their hunt for blood.
The sound of my footsteps mirrored the slow ticking of the grandfather clock that had been left completely untouched despite the chaos and slaughter, likely counting down the seconds that would lead to our very demise with those overly sharp hands.
A nervous sweat broke out along my palms. I couldn’t talk to them. My allies. Not right now. I walked straight past their rooms, aiming for mine instead.
Stars above.
How could I even begin to explain, knowing they were traitors to the very crown that had been placed upon my head?
There had to be a line somewhere, one that, if crossed, would lead to a dagger in my chest at best, or my insides being lit aflame at worst.
Under no circumstance could I tell them about what Maverick offered me. About the way he laced my fingers through his as he guided my hand towards his thundering heart—
Nothing. I could tell them nothing.
Even if keeping the true contents of our meeting a secret chafed against my conscience in the worst way.
These are the Starlight Trials, I reminded myself harshly, though it lacked the conviction I was aiming for. I had to look out for myself first and foremost. After all, they had no qualms about keeping secrets from me.
Before I left, Maverick had used his endless supply of the convenient portion of his magic to sew my competitors’ clothes back onto my limbs, the material spotless and dry.
Not a wrinkle to be seen. It was like I’d never gutted Darion in waist-high waters.
Like I’d never worn it to begin with. Even Kodhan’s dagger, returned to its rightful place along my hip, sparkled.
Restless energy gathered in my chest, kindled by every single emotion I’d shoved deep into myself since the beginning of the trials.
It prompted me to walk right past my room, too.
I couldn’t stay there. Not when those four walls would likely suffocate me to death.
Being inside my own head was awful enough.
Movement was good. Movement kept the guilt at bay.
Wit loomed over my shoulder, cackling like it was ready to drag my soul to the Underworld. The ticking of the grandfather clock reverberated in the back of my mind, reminding me that this would be the final hammer strike.
The final test that would prove if Maverick was telling the truth. If he truly meant for me to win.
If I won, I might take the crown he’d offered me. And ram its sharp edges into his stomach.
I reached the end of the corridor. A dead end.
There were two choices. I could either continue pacing up and down the corridor until the beginning of Wit like a madwoman, or face my allies.
The last thing I wanted to do was lie to their faces. But I knew that if I kept stewing in my thoughts, I was going to jump out of my skin. And so I scrubbed a hand down my face, and retraced my steps, pausing when I noticed Brannon’s door had been left slightly ajar.
Strange. They always kept them closed.
I palmed Kodhan’s dagger and advanced slowly. Muffled shouting greeted my ears.
“—still in there, and you know it!” Theia’s voice became clearer as I stopped a few feet from the threshold. She sounded livid. She was nearly screaming.
Kodhan’s answering shout made me flinch. “When will you swallow the fact you’re wrong? Let it go!”
“When I will actually be wrong!” Her words rang out. A faint sniffle followed. “And I’ll never let go. Not like you,” she growled. “Unlike you, I will never abandon—”
The scuffing of boots made it to my ears, and then a gasp—
“I would think very wisely about finishing that sentence.”
The tiny hairs on my arms stood on end at the unspoken promise of violence behind those words. He hadn’t yelled them, but he hadn’t needed to. He could have whispered them and the effect would have been the same.
A terrible thought had me wondering what he was capable of whispering with a similar tone. I shook my head viciously, clearing it immediately.
Gideon would have my head if he knew that I was eavesdropping. It was an easy way for one to get killed if they weren’t careful. But this was my only chance to learn more about what they weren’t telling me outright.
Theia scoffed. I could imagine her looking down her nose at him, arms crossed, jaw locked tighter than any bolt. “And you say I’m pathetic.”
“Because you are. You’ve always been the most na?ve out of all of us,” Kodhan sneered.
“Don’t be an ass, Kodhan,” Brannon cut in, sharp steel coating the warning. “That’s enough. We’re all on the same side.”
“And you’ve always been the one to ignore what’s right in front of you,” Theia hissed.
Her voice dropped several octaves then, making her nearly unrecognizable as she said, “Tell me, fiery one, do you remain blind by choice? Or is it the ashes that float in the wake of your self-destruction that cast your world dark? You are many things, but a liar is not one of them. And it would be a lie to say you don’t see it. Brannon has seen it. I’ve seen it.”
There was a heavy beat of silence before Kodhan sighed deeply. He murmured a reply I couldn’t discern. Only the words fault and afraid were loud enough for me to understand.
Theia answered just as quietly. Then, “The shadows beckon to her, just as she seeks out the light. And you weren’t there, but—” The rest of her words were muffled, hushed once again.
I drew a startled intake of breath as the door suddenly opened wider, Brannon’s frame filling the gap like he was about to step out into the corridor. He spotted me immediately.
His eyes widened, darting to Kodhan and Theia. They were still fighting. I took a step back, realizing what kind of impression I must’ve been giving, hiding by the door with a blade in hand.
I sheathed it quickly and lifted my hands placatingly. “This isn’t what it looks like.”
Brannon pressed a finger to his lips. Ushered me back so that we were completely out of earshot. “How much did you hear?” he whispered.
“I just got here,” I replied, also in a whisper. It wasn’t like I heard anything incriminating. The argument, along with who it was about, meant nothing to me.
Brannon didn’t buy it. His brows rose in question.
I worried my bottom lip between my teeth. One shred of honesty. That, I could do. “My meal with the king ended… abruptly. And I didn’t know what to do with myself. So I decided coming here was the better alternative.”
“What was the other alternative?”
“Pacing holes into the floor.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Did he want anything in particular from you?”
More shouts rose from inside Brannon’s room, but this time I pointedly ignored them. “He said that he wouldn’t give me any hints for Wit. That I wouldn’t need them.” Another shred of truth, slightly warped. It tasted sour.
He shifted on his feet, then settled on leaning his weight against the wall. Crossing his arms over his chest, he asked, “That’s it?” I nodded in confirmation. “Then I suppose we should be on high alert. We knew when Strength and Courage would start. But Wit could begin at any moment.”
His eyes went distant, like he was lost in thought.
Then he shook his head solemnly. “Best not disturb either of them right now. They can get pretty… intense.” I tried to peer over his shoulder, just to make sure the two of them weren’t resorting to punches, but he pushed off the wall, blocking my view completely. “I can walk with you, if you’d like?”
The offer sounded genuine, but I knew the signs of dismissal well enough.
It stung nevertheless. More than I cared to admit.
“Thank you. But I’d prefer to not accidentally wander into another competitor.
Or worse, into one of their traps. I’ll head to my room and keep my thoughts to myself until then.
” I pivoted on my heel and stalked back down the corridor towards my own room.
There was nowhere else for me to go.
Brannon didn’t want me around to hear their argument. And I deserved it. Deserved that distrust. I had no right to be disappointed, in any sense of the word.
I kept secrets of my own. Secrets that all but pointed to their blood on my hands if Maverick spoke the truth.
“Hypocrite,” I huffed under my breath. I was an untrustworthy, rotten hypocrite. The only thing keeping me from vomiting the full truth onto Brannon’s feet was my right iris.
I had to win. Even if the cost meant turning what was left of my heart into stone.
I’d throw it into the Phantom Rivers and watch it sink.
“I’ll come and get you,” Brannon called out, as loudly as he dared. As soon as Kodhan and Theia are done talking about things we don’t want you to hear, he left unsaid.
Waving a dismissive hand over my shoulder, I rounded back into my room, shoulders deflating from where they’d bunched up so high they nearly reached my ears. Stretched my stiff fingers out of the white-knuckled fists they’d wound up in.
The three of them weren’t being unfair—they were just being careful. They’d known each other for years and had a history that I wasn’t privy to.
“Not that any of it matters, anyway,” I murmured, chucking the chair underneath the doorhandle. We were all competing in the trials. And only two of us would make it out alive.
Exhaustion weighed so heavily on my bones that I feared they might crack.
Proper sleep was far out of reach. But it was better than drowning.
Because I was drowning. In sorrow, in anger, indecisiveness. Guilt. Regret. All of it was pulling me under.
The lone sconce choked, its tiny flame waving a final goodbye before dying out completely. Plunging me in shadow.
Taking with it the last thing that could pull me back to the surface.
You belong here, the shadows whispered. You belong with us.
And I believed them.