Chapter Seventeen
Nina
Awarm draught stirred my curtains, and a red light spread across the floor. My body ached all over, my hip most of all. I winced as I manoeuvred to the edge of the bed and forced myself up, limping to the wardrobe in the corner.
I yanked open the doors and picked out a practical set of clothes, informal by this palace’s standards.
A dark brown long-sleeved jacket. A panelled black-green skirt that reached my calves and lace-up boots.
In recent days, the ballgowns were disappearing from the wardrobe and being replaced by clothes that I preferred to wear.
If there was anything I was grateful for in Hell, it was the modest indulgence of being comfortable.
Once dressed, I took the corridor and strolled down the main hallway, past the depravity depicted in the paintings, until I noticed a hunched figure dashing down the passage ahead.
I rarely saw other souls in this part of the palace.
They were usually contained to the upper levels.
It was Jules. He scurried into one of the usually locked rooms and snuck inside.
I waited a moment, counting the beats of my own pulse, before following after him. When I got to the door, I halted. I pressed my ear to the wood. Jules was speaking to someone.
“You can’t . . . I said no, it’s not—no, listen, it doesn’t work like that—”
A chill went through me. Jules seemed agitated.
Who was he talking to?
I eased the handle and cracked the door, just enough to glance through.
Jules was pacing in circles, hands twitching as he rambled on. I inched a foot forward, trying to get a better view of the entire room.
“I told you, stop, just stop it—please, don’t do it! She’s innocent . . . not like the others.”
My feet came in contact with a stack of glass jars and they toppled. The crash echoed through the room. Jules whirled around, his face twisted in terror as our gazes collided.
“H-hey, Jules,” I blurted out, grinning like an idiot. “Sorry about that. I didn’t see them.”
He blinked. “What are you doing here?”
I shrugged, trying to look casual. “Saw you in the corridor. Thought I’d say hello.”
He murmured something under his breath before collecting the glass fragments and throwing them into a crate.
I took a time to glance around. The room itself was a shambles, with shelves bowing under books and rusted contraptions, jars of unlabelled powders scattered across worktops, and tools littering the floor like the aftermath of a storm.
“What is this place?”
"My workshop," Jules mumbled.
“This is where you built that saddle contraption for the nightmares.”
He nodded.
A small furnace was burning in a corner of the room, and the heat was unbearable.
My hip throbbed with anguish. I willed it gone, taking deep breaths and wishing for Temptation to take away all the pain. I moved and bit back a hiss. I’d been relying too much on Temptation’s magic to numb the agony, but it exhausted my body each time.
I stumbled, my body tired.
Jules’s gaze dropped to my leg. “You have a limp.”
I jerked backwards. “What makes you say that?”
“I’m quite good at seeing things others miss. You limp when you don’t think people are watching. But not always . . . is it a bad hip?”
I nodded, stunned. I thought I’d hidden my pain well, but not well enough.
“I’ve been working on new designs for the snufflebeasts. I think I could make the alloy work . . . a smaller brace to spread the weight,” Jules said, fiddling with papers on his desk. “Yes. It would help your movement. Better than the one you currently wear.”
He knew I was already wearing a brace. I could have applauded his genius.
“You’d really do that for me? Make me a new leg brace?”
“Yes, yours is dreadful.”
I laughed.
I thought about refusing his offer. I could tell him I’d survived just fine till now. But I wasn’t about to turn down an advantage. I glanced around the mess of sketches pinned to the wall. A dozen half-formed ideas, harnesses, braces, even mechanical joints.
“Thank you, Jules,” I breathed.
“I’ll need a few days.”
I nodded. “Of course. As long as it’s no bother.”
He went to his tools and started banging away on a leather strap. I uttered a goodbye before I slipped from the workshop, and made my way to the courtyard.
Leander was waiting for me when I arrived, but he wasn’t alone. Elise spun blades around her palms before throwing them at a target at the far end of the courtyard.
“You’ll be training with a new partner today,” he said.
I scowled at my opponent, and her grin was vicious.
The next hour was filled with pain, sweat, and humiliation.
Leander stepped between us, refining my footwork, grip, and sword arch.
Elise didn’t seem excited about slowing down when Leander threw lessons at me, and she didn’t try to hide it.
Every stroke she delivered was brutal, and I was so relieved she just had a stick and not a sword.
“Keep your stance lower,” Leander instructed. “She’ll use your balance against you.”
Elise lunged before I could yell at him that I couldn’t bend lower. Her stick slammed into my arm, and I barely managed to twist away before her leg swept mine out. My back struck the earth with a thud, knocking the air out of my lungs.
“Up,” Leander said. “Again.”
The whispers murmured in my mind. “We are what remains.”
I had no clue what it meant, and for once, I was feeling bitter about everything and everyone.
I gritted my teeth and got to my feet. I ignored the pain in my hip, altered my stance, and tried again.
Elise’s movements were calculated and precise.
“Embody desire,” the whispers grew louder. “Take away the pain, and take your fury out on her.”
So, I did.
I took a breath and imagined the ache fading away. I’d got exceptionally good at tapping into the fabric of Temptation. But I wanted more than just relief from the ache. I needed to increase the speed of my strike so that it would hit its target.
As Elise charged, power overcame me, and my blade slashed down, striking across her arm.
“You fucking bitch,” she snarled.
I grinned wildly, as if I were a mirror for her own vile grin.
Then she charged, slamming into me. As I fell, her foot made contact with my leg, just where my brace supported the joint. She stamped down violently, and a crack ripped through the courtyard. Metal snapped. Pain erupted through my body.
Stars filled my vision, and the blackness beckoned.
Elise was ready to take another jab at me when Leander’s voice rang out.
“Enough!”
Elise scoffed. “She’s slow and off-balance.”
“You went too far,” Leander said.
I forced my words through clenched teeth. “I’m fine.”
He ignored it. “Nothing a hot meal can’t fix, but let’s have a look at you.” Leander was at my side suddenly, eyes running over my body to find the injury.
I tried to give him a smile, but the crippling pain had other plans. It probably looked more like a grimace.
“What is this?” His hand brushed the broken leather and metal on my thigh. My skirt had flipped up and sideways, exposing my entire leg. I attempted to pull it down and hide it. I didn’t want either of them to see it and assume I was weak, as most people did.
“It’s nothing,” I murmured, my gaze shifting to him. He was staring intently, his playful demeanour entirely gone. “It’s just my leg brace, alright.”
“And you need it here?” His voice was softer now. “So . . . you were born this way?”
“Yes,” I hissed. “Not that it’s any of your business.”
“And you’re still training?”
“If that’s what it takes to get back to my brother,” I groaned, clenching my teeth through the blinding pain, “then yes.”
I winced as I pushed myself upright, agony stabbing deep into my hip. The effort to stand nearly dropped me again. It had been a long time since it hurt like this, long enough that I’d almost forgotten what it felt like.
There was pain, then there was this . . .
Elise was hovering and I took a second to give her a fierce glare.
I hated her.
Leander stood, running a hand through his hair. “I’m heading to the Red Wing,” he said finally. “Try not to kill each other while I’m gone.”
The moment he left, Elise exhaled. “The Red Wing,” she muttered. “Of course.”
I pushed myself up, hissing against the pain, and braced myself on the wall. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Elise gave me a look that was equal parts pity and spite. “That’s where he goes to cool off. It’s where most souls go for pleasure.” The corner of her mouth twitched up. “You’ll learn soon enough. Survive first, mind the consequences later.”
“Survival and savagery are quite different things in my book,” I spat.
She watched me for a moment longer, something bitter flickering in her eyes before she looked away.
“You should know . . . Champions never collect all the relics. There’s never been a winner in all the history of The Cycle. Every Champion either dies or makes a bargain before a victor can be crowned.”
Her gaze lingered on me a heartbeat too long before she disappeared through the patio doors, leaving me with the dull ache of my twisted hip and leg, a broken spirit, and the echo of her words in my head.
***
Kob pressed a warm vial into my hand.
“For the muscles,” he said. “Don’t drink it all at once. You’ll sleep for two days.”
The liquid within was a putrid green, and the glass radiated heat onto my palm. “If this knocks me out, you’ll have to carry me back to my chamber.”
He grunted something that might have been a laugh, then returned to the sink.
“You know,” I said, swirling the vial, “the Demon of Temptation still refuses to show his face. Funny, it’s almost like he’s afraid or something.”
Kob’s eyes flicked to me before he busied himself with the dishes again. Water splashed. Silence stretched.
I leaned against the counter. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”
“I’ve been sworn to secrecy.”
“You can tell me. It’ll be our secret.”
“Not going to happen,” he said, still not looking at me.
I narrowed my eyes. “Why not?”
He shrugged, shoulders tight. “Because you don’t want the answer.”
I opened my mouth, then closed it again. The room smelled faintly of soap and something sweet, like the potion cooling on the counter.
I sighed. “You’re terrible at conversation, you know that?”
“And you’re bad at listening.”
As Kob had promised, the potion took the edge off. I could walk again. Limping, sure, but not collapsing. That was enough.
I passed the Betting Hall on my way back to my room. I peered inside, where coins clattered against the roar of a crowd hungry for blood.
The six Champions of Hell loomed above me from the contraption in the centre. The odds had shifted again. I was still at the bottom.
“Two relics already,” a Hell-dweller hissed from within.
“She won’t last. None of them do,” said another. “They’ll all make their bargains before it’s over.”
I turned away, jaw tight. Elise’s words echoed in my mind: Every Champion either dies or makes a bargain.
When I returned to my chamber, a single candle burned on the table, its flame steady despite the breeze.
A plate waited for me on the bed. Steam rose from roasted meat and spiced vegetables. I stared at it for a long moment before sitting down.
No note. Just the food.
Leander was still nowhere to be seen, but evidently, he’d found a way to make his presence known. Because I had no doubt that the food was his way of trying to mend the thing that had been broken today. Not just my leg brace.
I ate in silence, pretending I didn’t feel watched.