Chapter 10 #2
“The only reason I’m here is because you told Ainslee that Nyxthos wouldn’t be able to see my secrets. If I’d known…”
Azric smirks and uncrosses his legs. He leans forward as if to tell me a secret. “How else was I supposed to bring someone outside of the Pact to these trials? Darling, you do realize that people can lie, don’t you?”
I stand up, anger washing through me. “Then why should I believe anything you’ve said? You expect me to trust you in the same conversation that you say you manipulated me into putting my life and my Order’s secrets on the line.”
He stares up at me, seemingly without a care, for several moments, and it only infuriates me more. Finally, he says, “Does it matter? I’m telling you that you can end the war. You can do what dear Papa Rhaskar couldn’t do.”
I don’t say anything as his words echo in the silence. I could end the war. “Maybe you’re lying about that, too.”
Azric shakes his head, the smirk never fading. “Little Priestess, why would I go to all this trouble?”
Azric continues, “It doesn’t matter, though.
Believe me or don’t. Talk to my aunt and uncles if you need to.
Nyxthos needs a champion to fight for him, and if you win, he’ll be forced to accept you.
And that will be the end of all of this stupidity.
Your fellow humans will be safe-ish for the first time in eighty years, and I’ll finally have the chance to work with rather than against the other champions. ”
He stands up abruptly and starts pacing. Instead of shadows coiling around him, his hands change into bony claws, and he clenches his fists. The tips of those claws cut into his palms, and a steady stream of blood runs from his fists to the black stone at his feet.
“This war is a game to them, little Priestess. You don’t see it because you’re not in it.
They say that it’s a way to train their soldiers, and at one point, it might even have been.
Not anymore. The true war is coming, and it’s time that we all start learning to work together.
That’s why I need someone who can force them all to stop and actually think for a few moments. ”
He turns to me. “You’re the only person who can do that. Even the gods will heed my words if you win. Then, we’ll all have a chance of surviving the real enemy.”
I stand up to face him. “If everything you’ve said is true, then I agree wholeheartedly.
I doubt that very much, though. You have caused more pain and suffering than any other person on Nyth save your mother.
The fact you’d think I’m na?ve enough to believe you’d want that to stop, Prince of Bones, is insulting. ”
He smiles at me, and his hands return to normal, the wounds immediately healing, and he disappears only for me to feel his blood-red nails on my neck. His shadows wrap around my body, tightening into a vise again, just like that night in his room.
“Then don’t believe me,” he whispers in my ear.
“But hear my warning. You are the only genuine threat to anyone in this castle other than the champions. They just don’t know it yet.
Hide your lineage, Daughter of Rhaskar. Hide your powers and your potions.
Hide everything about yourself from anyone save Nyxthos.
Your right to be here is undeniable, and he cannot kill you or influence your chance to win without breaking an oath.
Your trials will be more difficult. Your position will be nearly unwinnable in every trial, but it must be winnable for him to keep his oath.
Just remember that Nyxthos cannot reveal you or kill you, but anyone else can.
And they will. Stay secret and safe, little Priestess, and don’t leave the road laid out before you in the dark of night. ”
My body’s shaking with uncontrollable need, but I hear every word he says. They echo in my mind. Then he’s gone. I still don’t move as the last bit of shadow leaves my body desperate for his touch.
The silence is as thick as porridge until a scream erupts in the hall. I whirl around to see that a stone wall has grown to cover the door to my room, a parting gift from Azric.
I hear my door shatter and the snarl of a demon before a muttered curse. There’s more fighting, more chaos in the rooms on either side. Screams and battle cries ring out, and I hold my daggers tightly.
He saved me. I hadn’t thought anyone would be brazen enough to knock down my door or to send demons after me. I’d thought it’d be a knife in the ribs in a corridor, not all out war in the rooms. Tonight, I underestimated my competitors. Now I know they’ll do whatever it takes to win these trials.
But I’m relatively safe because Azric didn’t underestimate them at all.
What about Darian? Is he safe? I know he has eighty years of dealing with these people, but if they worked together?
He’s never really seemed to be the warrior that King Rhion is.
He’s not a champion like Ainslee. He’s just a High Fae, so how could he fight demons or Abominations that Mages and Corpsebinders summon?
How could he fight off the Chained or Burning Ones?
There’s nothing to be done about it now. Even if I wanted to, unless I were to use my Mark of Chains, I couldn’t leave this room. If Azric were telling the truth, the last thing I want is for someone to realize I used any powers.
I do the only thing I can do. I gather up my equipment, including my short bow and quiver, and sit down to wait for the first trial to begin.