Chapter 55
Fifty-Five
Three enormous thrones had been conjured into the arena. They were glittering monstrosities of carved bone and gold, and their presence warped the space, turning the battlefield into a stage. The air hummed with leftover magic, sharp as ozone on my tongue.
“Steady,” Ander told me quietly, though his eyes studied me. That gaze said what have you done?
He nodded toward Clan Amber. “Keep walking. We’ll deal with this together.”
“I can’t.” I dared a glance at Fieran, only to realize Anayla had fallen into step at my side. Asrael and Dairen were joining us, and the rest of Clan Bismyth fell behind.
Ander’s mouth tightened. “Cara.”
“I’ll explain later. Please trust me.”
He was so tense that he looked as if his beautiful face might shatter. But his gaze swept up, taking in the situation in a glance: the queen coming to her dais and that center throne, the stands crowding with spectators, the clans taking the field.
“Go,” he said impatiently. “If that’s what you need.”
I felt a sudden well of gratitude for his patient friendship that I could never have expressed. I nodded instead and broke away, moving at the center of a sudden knot of Clan Bismyth shifters.
Anayla nudged me with her shoulder as the two of us came to a stop, the rest of them fanning out around me. Fear stood at the front, as if he could be a shield between us all and the queen.
Fear’s friends were clearly prepared to protect me if this were an attack.
That thought sank into me like a stone. What had Fieran told them? How much had he arranged long before he gave me his earnest-sounding vows and his mouth against mine?
The fact that I had to doubt him like that was exactly what made me hesitate to slip the ring back onto my finger, even as I touched it through the fabric at my throat. I wore one of Anayla’s dresses I’d hastily thrown on while all but running to the arena.
The arena had never felt so enormous. The sky above seemed farther away, swallowed by the height of the stands.
All of us—mortals, shifters, Fae—were reduced to tiny specks beneath the towering crowd.
Magic shimmered faintly in the air, distorting faces into a blur of jewel-bright eyes and eager mouths.
I squinted toward the highest dais. The queen’s face was a pale smear framed in a white-gold crown that shimmered with the reflected light that clung to her. She looked like a goddess, which was surely how she wished to be seen. But she certainly did not deserve the worship she craved.
A trumpet blared, cutting through the murmurs like a blade. “The queen calls her son to her side,” a herald cried, voice magically amplified.
Fieran turned. His gaze snared mine across the distance.
I took a step forward despite myself. Asrael’s hand came down on my shoulder, stilling me, as if I could have had a chance to get through that crowd anyway.
Fear winked at me, and then he was gone, climbing the marble stairs to join her.
The queen’s voice echoed through the amphitheater, melodious at any volume. “We will celebrate today with a great hunt of the creatures that have stalked our lands. This is a special day, indeed, because I am pleased to announce my son Fieran’s wedding.”
Shock rippled through me.
How did she know? We hadn’t even completed the vows.
Asrael brushed my side as he shifted, readying himself to reach his sword. Anayla’s fingers flexed at her sides, all of them ready but waiting, not giving away their preparations to attack.
Clan Bismyth had closed ranks around me like a protective wall.
“We have long had an ally in the Kingdom of Caer Lira,” the queen continued. “And I am pleased to continue that friendship by sealing Fieran in marriage to his childhood friend, Zia.”
For a moment, I couldn’t breathe.
Zia.
The name meant nothing to me, but the crowd seemed ecstatic.
“In celebration,” the queen went on, “we will not only have extraordinary hunts and games throughout our labyrinth, but I will also raise one mortal each night to become Fae. A gift for our beloved mortals.”
Wild cheers erupted from the mortal stands, shaking the arena. Hope—false, toxic hope—sparked through them like wildfire.
This was her power.
This was how she controlled them.
And somehow, with this marriage, she’d tighten her chains around Fieran too. She would ruin whatever his plan was with Lightbringer. She would rip him from whatever fragile peace he’d seemed to find when I was in his bed.
“If marrying me will protect you,” I whispered, half to myself, “then I’ll marry you.”
Anayla’s gaze snapped to me, sharp and assessing. “Yes. If we can get Fieran away before the ceremony, and the two of you can say your vows, the queen won’t be able to seal the proposal.”
“He said his half of the vows last night.” I reached up and fumbled with the chain around my neck, trying to find the catch to release it. My fingers were shaking; I kept missing the clasp. Finally, I just pulled hard, yanking it loose. “I just have to finish it.”
Anayla’s eyes widened when she saw the ring dangling from the chain. “Is that what I think it is?”
“The biggest mistake I could possibly make?” I asked wryly, my voice steady only through sheer will.
But I couldn’t let the queen bind Fieran to Zia.
I slipped the ring onto my finger and repeated the words of the vows Fieran had said to me the night before. “I will be at your side in the darkness and when the sun rises. I bind my shadow to your shadow and my light to your light. I weave your family into mine and curse your enemies to my blade.”
Strange tears prickle in my eyes again, just as they had when Fear said his vows; I wasn’t sure if it was because I was settling myself into Fear’s trap or because I meant the damned words or both. “If fate marked us, I choose you freely; I choose you utterly even if there is no fate.”
Anayla caught her breath as the ring lit, the sigils on it glowing gold.
“Their proposal will be blocked,” she murmured. “But I don’t know if the queen will realize why yet.”
She exchanged a worried look with Dairen and Asrael.
Kiegan shouldered his way through the press of bodies, teeth bared in irritation at anyone who didn’t move fast enough. His arrival snapped something into place among the others; whatever silent language Clan Bismyth shared rippled through them like a signal.
“I married him,” I told him softly.
His gaze met mine with the frank acceptance that had marked our friendship. “Then let’s get you far away from a queen, who is going to be real vengeful.”
“Move,” Asrael growled, and then the world dissolved into motion.
They closed around me. Asrael, a long, dark shadow at my right; Anayla, a bright, dangerous presence at my left; Kiegan and Dairen cutting a path forward with the casual, deadly efficiency of people who’d been running from danger their whole lives.
For a moment we were swallowed by the massive crowd, then we slipped into one of the stone arches leading below.
The noise of the arena—roaring crowds, crackling magic, the queen’s amplified commands—faded behind us as we plunged into the labyrinthine tunnels beneath the arena.
The air down here was cool and damp. Torches flickered blue against the walls, casting shadows that stretched and twisted as we moved.
My breath sounded loud in my own ears. Kiegan led us quickly, his movements sharp and sure, looking as if he were hunting for opponents just as much as he had during that first trial.
Dairen kept glancing back to check that I was keeping up, tossing me occasional encouraging nods even though his own jaw was tense with worry. Once, he saw something on my face that made him throw me a smile. “Don’t give up on us, hero. We’ve got you.”
“We’re almost there.” Asrael threw over his shoulder along with a long look that was less reassurance, more assessment.
We ducked through a narrow crevice of rock and into an older passage. Moss clung to the walls, shimmering faintly.
Asrael finally slowed. He turned to me, face set in grim lines that had nothing to do with anger and everything to do with fear.
“Do you think the queen will know why the magic failed between Fieran and Zia?” Anayla was already scanning the tunnels around us, protective instinct written in every shift of her weight.
“I don’t know. But if she can feel the bond between Fieran and Zia resist, she’ll start searching for another. And if she senses yours…” His eyes drifted down to my hand.
He reached out—carefully, gently, as if I were something fragile—and took my fingers in his. His thumb brushed the ring. The magic in it pulsed like a heartbeat. “The sigils. Fieran’s and yours. When did he make this?”
“My sigil? I don’t have one.”
“It looks as if you do.”
I stared down at the ring as understanding snapped painfully into place.
The wishflower and the shovel.
Fieran had not asked me about my sigil idly, no matter how much it had sounded like pillow talk. I had traced the shape of my sigil on his chest, and he had memorized it, brought it into being.
Anayla gripped Kiegan’s shoulder. “We have to protect her in case the queen tries to get her out of the way.”
“She can’t now, right?” I demanded. “Fieran swore that she couldn’t kill me.”
“She can’t kill you,” Anayla said. “The same ancient magic that protects royal heirs from their parents’ rage extends to their bonded mates. But the queen has other ways to make people suffer. If she can force you both to break the bond, she can bind Fieran to another.”
“Then we keep her from reaching Cara, whatever it costs,” Asrael said grimly. “Long enough for you two to finish what you started.”
Rees bounded toward me. I dropped to my knees, burying my fingers in his fur and pressing my face to his neck. His warmth, his eager affection, steadied me in a way nothing else could.
Behind him came Fieran. He looked weary but determined, and then as his friends moved aside, clapping his back and congratulating him, he saw me and brightened. All the exhaustion fell away. Something tugged in my chest seeing the way he responded to my presence.
The world seemed to still, and the voices of Bismyth faded away as he closed the distance between us.
His arms closed around me, gathering me to him fiercely. Into my ear, he murmured, “Thank you.”
I rose onto my toes to reach his lips. He bowed to kiss me, his lips claiming mine in a long, branding kiss.
Then he picked me up, his hands searingly hot through my gown, and I wrapped my legs around his lean waist. My hand went to his hard jaw, holding him steady as we traded wild, eager kisses.
Both of us were breathless when we surfaced. Bismyth was cheering around us, and when he grinned at me, I found myself smiling back.
“Come, wife,” he told me. “We have monsters to slay.”
And even though we had the most powerful enemy in the kingdom above us and monsters being released into the labyrinth below, Fear looked as if he never wanted to let me go.