Chapter 35 #2
Darian shrugs, but he’s grinning. “No idea. I’d rather have more cards to play in Khorra than fewer, though. This bag is just a different card than our friendly competitors are used to playing with.”
What is in the sack?
Rhion’s smiling, but he says nothing else about what he’d given Darian. “Are you ready?”
“Not really,” Darian snips. “Doubt that matters, though.”
Ainslee chuckles. “No, I don’t think it does.” She turns to me and smiles.
Her eyes suddenly shift toward her right where Lucine Reden, Rivena’s champion, steps out of the crowd. I won’t forget her face after she tried to force me from the competition after I killed Corentin. She only glances at me for a moment before moving to Elara.
Elara bows deeply to her champion. Lucine glances around at the rest of us before pulling Elara away from us to talk.
It’s strange to think after this past month that we’re all still enemies.
I need to remember that. Other than Darian, every other person on this team could try to murder me if they think they can still win the trial without me.
Easier to do it now rather than later, especially with all the strangeness that surrounds me, which was just pointed out.
“Nyxthos is close,” Ainslee says softly.
“Come on, let’s talk,” she whispers to Darian and me.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see a man who’s obviously Rurik and Erik’s father pulling the Stormbringer prince aside.
Jorren wanders away as if pulled by an invisible tether, and Isola is left all alone.
That’s when it clicks. Where is Erik? I follow Ainslee, but my eyes are wandering everywhere, trying to find the last member of our team. He was just supposed to be adjusting a piece of armor before he came downstairs, not rebuilding it from scratch. Where is he?
Ainslee looks pointedly at me, and I return the look. “The trials will be viewable by all the champions and nobility. I’m not entirely sure how we’ll be able to see it, but know that we will. Fiona, remember that when you…”
I nod to her, and there’s no attitude in my body language. She’s been nothing but helpful since I arrived in Dunloch. “I’ll be careful.”
Rhion follows that up with, “Be smart, too. We’ve been talking with the other champions, and most of them have people on multiple teams. They’ve all been training for battle almost exclusively. They’re going to act like they’d act in war. Whatever you do, don’t do that.”
Darian smiles at his brother-in-law. “Don’t worry about that. We’re ready to win this thing. Whatever it ends up being.”
Ainslee steps toward her brother, and she gives him a hug. It feels strange seeing her relax from the position of command and become a loving sister. “Be safe, Darian,” she says. “I don’t want to go a month without you. Do you hear me?”
He chuckles. “I don’t know. A month-long break sounds pretty nice.”
Rhion arches an eyebrow. “I doubt that spending a month having your soul reattached to your body would be any better than sitting around all day playing Khorra like I hear you’ve been doing.”
Darian winks at the large man. “You know me. As lazy as they get.”
Rhion and Ainslee let out little laughs.
It occurs to me in the silence surrounded by chaotic chatter from all the other groups, there’s no one to tell me to be safe.
Sure, Ainslee and Rhion care whether I live or die, but it’s because they want me to become Nyxthos’s champion to end the war.
They care that I win, not that I get to see them again.
I don’t have a brother or a friend. I don’t have a father or mother who’s praying I come back to them.
I don’t have anyone. Until just recently, I’d thought I had a father.
I knew Rhaskar wasn’t my blood, but he’d been the one I’d yearned to impress, the one who’d been my safety. He’d been everything.
Now, he’s a murderer. He’s the one who tore my happiness away and replaced it with training and power.
A part of me still wishes he was here to whisper in my ear, to hug me and tell me he’ll see me on the other side. Even if I hate him for what he did, it’d be nice to have someone.
Then, the now familiar feeling of being drawn away from the conversation pervades the Great Hall, and everyone’s attention is pulled to the center of the room where Nyxthos appears from the shadows.
Floating, as always, above the crowd, I’m reminded of just how different the gods are compared to humans or Godforged.
I can ignore even Ainslee, a champion who’s been imbued with Adelyth’s powers.
I can turn away from anyone I’ve ever met, but I can’t turn away from Nyxthos.
His eyes seem to see into my very soul, and even if I were to look away from him, my attention would be on the fact that those eyes were seeing everything I’d done and thought and felt throughout my entire life.
“Competitors, you have survived to see the third trial. You have proven you are strong enough to attempt to earn your place as my champion. Tonight, and for the next three days, you and your teammates will attempt to capture a tower. It will give you the defensive edge against your enemies, but more than that, whichever team holds my flag at the strike of midnight seventy-two hours from now will be the team that competes in the last trial.”
My mind records his words just as I have each time Cedric lectured me on history or strategy.
Yet, I’m not paying attention to them. I’m staring into his eyes, and for the first time in my life, I’m truly terrified.
He knows the games we’ve been playing. He knows why Corentin didn’t return.
He knows I’m the girl Rhaskar raised, that I was trained to fight his armies, and that I was given powers even he doesn’t fully understand.
Nyxthos, the God of Darkness and Secrets, is pouring his power into the connection between us.
Memories of the last month flash through my mind, and there’s no doubt the god in front of me is seeing each of them.
I know there is one thing I can’t reveal–the shadow cutting the steel beam.
I’m sure that if I could only close my eyes, the connection would break.
I can’t blink, though. Instead, I force my hand upward, ever so slowly, to cover my face.
Each inch seems to be more difficult than the last.
Then, as if one of the other gods had answered a silent prayer, a chair crashes onto the floor like someone had thrown it.
For a half-second, even Nyxthos’s attention is pulled away from me, and I close my eyes, not daring to open them again.
I can feel his power wash over me, but the memories don’t flood my mind again.
Somehow, all of that happened in the span of a breath.
That vicious war between us and the interruption had lasted less than a second.
“What happens between now and midnight three days hence does not matter,” he continues without acknowledging our battle of wills.
“Only the one who holds my flag at the moment the clock strikes midnight will win, so make your plans accordingly. Take the tower early and gain the defensive position while becoming a target for the rest of the teams, or wait until the last moment to take it. Choose your strategy wisely. Good luck, competitors. May you embrace the darkness willingly.”
Everything changes then, and instead of being in a castle in Dunloch, my team is standing in the middle of a forest under a starlit sky.