Chapter 37
Ilet out a long, slow breath. Niniane’s threat is how the monarchists try to keep control: through terror. My gaze sweeps around the rest of the group as I try to read people’s faces, but all I see in their features is the usual low-level anxiety.
But when I look at Igraine, my heart skips a beat.
Standing next to Rion, she’s glaring at me with unbridled hostility. Did she see something? Or is this just her usual unprovoked rage toward me?
By her side, Mabon stands straight, arms crossed.
My gaze dips to his sword, and I can already tell by the hilt that it’s finely crafted.
It sits with a perfect balance at his hip, the kind of weapon that’s been perfectly measured down to the slightest fraction of weight.
The construction is seamless, and the guard and pommel flow together as if they grew naturally from the earth.
Fine carvings and jewels spiral through the hilt.
Elizabeth sees where I’m looking, and she leans in, whispering to me, “It was a gift from the noble houses for his victory. An ancient sword of Avalon steel, forged during the Golden Age.”
Jealousy flickers through me.
Mabon is glaring at Rion. He looks both angry and sober, which is unfortunate. He’s less of a problem when he’s drunk, but I suppose it would have been hard even for him to wake up wasted at the crack of dawn.
“The trial is a hunt and a battle,” Niniane commands.
“Search for King Bran’s chalice. Survive attacks from other contenders.
The grail is more than a cup. It’s the first of three royal symbols and a token of the gods’ favor.
For centuries, these relics were lost. But in our time of chaos, without a king on the throne, the Veiled Court has found them again.
Whoever touches the grail first wins the trial.
Then you will keep it for a full week, basking in its power, until we return it to its place. ”
The crowd starts murmuring, and I’m already spinning through the mental calculations. If I manage to get the grail, I’ve got one week to get it to Vero and back again without anyone noticing.
I already know I’m outmatched here. But I’m not here for power. I’m here to save Vero. I’m not sure any of them are quite as desperate as I am.
Why should a healing relic be hidden away from those like Vero who actually need it, just because they don’t have royal lineage?
“But even without touching the grail,” Niniane declares, “you can impress the noble houses with your bravery and skill. As ever, they will be watching. When the horns sound, you will begin.”
“So, we’re after the grail,” Elizabeth mutters by my side, like she’s still waking up. “We’re supposed to search blindly for it?”
“Just try to put on a good show for the noble houses,” I say. “And stay alive. Everyone’s going to be trying to kill each other again today.”
“Let’s look after each other, then,” says Aneirin. “We’ve got light magic, shadow magic, and…and Alis.”
“Perfect.” I bite my lip. “Rion might be joining us. He and I have spent a bit of time together at night.”
I want to choke as the words come out of my mouth.
Elizabeth frowns at me. “Really? It’s actually going somewhere?”
My stomach tightens. “Well, he’s gorgeous, isn’t he? And maybe he can help us stay alive.”
“That’s good,” Aneirin says. “He’s one of the most powerful people here. I wouldn’t say no to having him in our group. Any idea where we should start?”
“I think we should take this path down toward the river. When the fog wasn’t as thick, I saw a cave on the other side. The grail is hardly going to be out in the open, is it?”
“It’s as good a guess as any,” says Elizabeth. “And at least that way we’ll be able to get some water. I feel like that might help my headache. That, or death. Perhaps your new friend Rion will oblige me with the second option.”
As she says this, Rion is already stalking closer to me.
I glance at one of the moths fluttering around us. Time to put on a show so we can yank Mabon out of the top spot.
I smile coquettishly at Rion and sidle up to him, running my fingertips along his muscled forearm. I peer up at him and see a faint hint of amusement twinkling in his eyes. “Rion, darling,” I say. “We’re going to head down to the river first.”
His silver hair catches in the wind, and the corner of his mouth curves in a faint smile. “I had the same idea. Head for the cave.” He leans in close, whispering against my ear. “It’s time to pull Mabon off his fucking perch.”
I don’t want to help Rion win, but I do like the sound of that.
The carnyx horns sound, a deep, sonorous battle cry that echoes off the rocks and makes my hair stand on end.
Immediately, people start to scatter in all directions—some of them running toward the path in front of us, others clambering up the steep hillside, all of them enveloped in fog. None of us knows where the grail is. We’re simply guessing.
We’re not the first to choose the route down to the ravine. Two powerful men stalk ahead of us on the path, swords already drawn, their boots scattering loose gravel that tumbles off the side.
Rion strides after them, his towering body cutting swiftly through the mist. Aneirin follows behind him. Elizabeth stumbles along after me.
The two large men are a few steps ahead of Rion, and he closes the distance, drawing his sword.
He rushes for them with the speed of a storm wind, his fur-lined cloak snapping behind him.
Gracefully, he strikes right, carving through the first man’s throat.
Blood gleams on his blade. A gurgling choke interrupts the quiet.
Rion’s sword is already arcing back in the other direction. The other man hardly has time to scream before the blade finds him. The man’s head plummets into the ravine, followed by his body, tumbling off into the mist. Rion kicks the other corpse into the valley, and it bounces down the side.
He turns back to everyone still on the hillside, his blade dripping crimson. “If anyone else was considering joining us on this path, I suggest you find another route.”
“Was that really necessary?” I whisper.
Rion’s beautiful eyes gleam with a cold cruelty. “I don’t know what your intentions are here, but mine are to get the grail in my hands, and I will not be deterred. This is life and death for me.”
Life and death.
Would I kill a couple of aristocrats to save Vero? Yes, I would. Vero’s probably worth ten of them. So, I shut my mouth and follow after Rion and Aneirin, stepping over the blood-slicked stones.
I glance behind me. It seems like Rion’s threat worked—no one is following us. For now, I leave my sword sheathed. Carrying it will only require more balance.
As I walk, the cold wind from the ravine bites my cheeks.
We follow the steep, slanting path as it zigs and zags along the cliffside. The path itself is slippery and too narrow to feel safe. A damp slick coats the rocks, and they’re worn smooth, as though they’ve been trodden upon for centuries.
Thorny brambles grow from the jagged rock face. When I slip, I use one of them to steady myself. Loose rocks tumble off the side, bouncing off other rocks into the mist. The thorns on the brambles pierce my fingers, and blood drips onto the stones.
I glance up to make sure no one is about to murder us from above, but I can’t see much. The fog is rolling in thickly around us.
Up ahead, Aneirin curses. The path is growing narrower—no longer a path at all, really, but a tiny, craggy outcrop that looms over the river.
We’re getting nearer, though. Now, the sound of rushing water has grown louder.
Around us, gold and silver moths flutter by, watching our progress.
“Fuck this,” Elizabeth mutters behind me. Her boots scrape on the smooth stones, and she’s breathing hard. “Do you know what I think—”
A thud cuts off her words, and I whirl to see Igraine attacking Elizabeth. Igraine’s sword has cut Elizabeth’s shoulder down to the bone, and Elizabeth screams.
Igraine pulls her sword out again, and Elizabeth stumbles into me, nearly falling off the cliff face.
I grab her by the waist—one hand clinging to the brambles, the other clinging to Elizabeth.
I don’t have space to fight back. The path is barely a foot wide, crumbling off into an abyss, and combat would be nearly impossible—which is probably the only reason Igraine hasn’t slaughtered us all already.
I wrench Elizabeth away from Igraine, forcing her back. “Grab her, Aneirin!”
We shift around each other as I steady myself with one hand on the brambles.
The moment Elizabeth is secure in Aneirin’s arms, I reach to draw my sword—
But Igraine stops me with a boot to my chest. The force of it is so hard, I’m sure she broke my ribs. My arms wheel in the air as I try to catch my balance.
A hard kick to my knees, and I tumble off the side of the cliff.
Now, there’s nothing but the air and the fog and the rush of the wind whipping against me as I fall.