Chapter 9
“What are you thinking, Axira?” The throne room is far behind us as we march through the halls of the palace.
“Hear me out.”
“No. I won’t support you entering the tournament.
You’re ruining everything. As a servant here, we could work on getting the Heartfillers before the tournament.
” Each of his steps is twice the length of mine.
He told the Mercyenforcers he’d escort me to contestant quarters and send for my things. But we are headed back to his room.
“I cannot be stuck here as a servant. I have to get back home.”
He doesn’t respond. I have to make him see that my plan gets him what he wants and helps me.
When we are in the privacy of his room, he strides to the window and gazes out.
I stand in the doorway. The idea of being alone with him feels different than it did a day ago when I was still hoping to escape.
My skin prickles at the weight of our silence.
Whatever’s between us has shifted—or is about to.
“I know you want something from that tournament. You said you had to get it. Were you planning to drug the tournament guards so you can sneak into the tournament and steal what you want?” I’m guessing, trying to put together what little he’s given me.
I watch him for some indication that I’m right, but Caelus only pulls the fabric over his window.
“If that’s your plan, it would never work.
It’s always easier to steal from the inside. ”
Still he says nothing, his back to me. If he won’t agree to pull me out of that tournament the minute I steal what he wants and put me on a ship, I’ve just ruined any chance I have at a different life for me, Serafina, or any of us at the orphanage.
I don’t know much about the tournament other than that there are trials that whittle the contestants down until there is a clear winning true-love match.
There are rumors about what the trials are like, but it’s hard to know what’s true. I can’t end up like Miss Omon’s old helper. I’m not a help to Serafina or anyone dead.
“Once I steal what you want, find a reason to disqualify me, I can become violently ill, you can sneak me out, something.” He’s the Prince of Ethyria. His father listens to him. I’ve seen it. “Then, put me on a ship with a bit of gold.”
Caelus faces me finally with folded arms. “This won’t work.”
“I am the best smuggler on this damned island. Get me a ship and you will have whatever you want to steal from your father.”
“You don’t understand what you’re up against. You’re not—”
“I’m not what?”
“The tournament requires you to love someone, Axira.” He scowls with a disgust I understand in my bones. “You’re clever and fast. But that can only do so much. It’s a competition to find your truest-love match. You can’t even be within arm’s reach of me or anyone without being uncomfortable.”
“I—” My throat is dry. I hadn’t considered how much the love part would play. I just thought about the trials.
“To get what I need, you’d have to survive until the Ascension Ceremony, when the winners are cloaked in Skyborn robes and granted citizenship. You’d have to finish in the top two to be sure you’ll make it to the end. You have the savage instinct, but you don’t have…”
“The heart.”
Our eyes meet in understanding. To survive to the end, I’d need to be in love with someone.
I’m not exactly sure what that is like, but if Lucent’s lover being helplessly distraught over him when she saw his body was any indication, I’m not interested.
I cross the room and sit down on a chair next to his desk. “How would they know if I’m in love?”
“What do you know about the tournament, Axira?”
“Not much is known.”
“You have to pass three character trials: courage, loyalty, and strength to prove you can be trusted with Skyborn citizenship.” His expression darkens.
“The trials are brutal. My father designed them himself, in secret, laboring over every detail for the last decade to make sure they weed out those who cannot be trusted. Allegiance is his goal. Between the trials you’ll have the task of finding your best love connection among the contestants. Bonding. Growing close to each other.”
A tightness creeps into my shoulders, and my arms fold across my chest before I even think to move them.
“See, you’re already uneasy,” he says.
“I can pass the trials. I know I can.”
“The trials prove you’re brave enough, loyal enough, and strong enough to handle the pressures that come with love,” he says.
“Pressures?” I ask.
“Love is power, Axira.”
“I don’t understand.” I say.
“If you’re hanging off the side of a mountain and your foot slips, it will become very clear very quickly who you care about. You can’t fake this. The tests are designed to show where your heart really is.”
Mine speeds up. “Is there some other way? I’m efficient. If you can tell me where it is, I bet you I can find it before the competition gets stiff.”
“There’s no other way. The people who win are desperate to experience love,” he says with such force, I flinch. “To be wrapped up in it, consumed by it. That’s what it takes.”
“I can pretend!”
“No, you can’t.”
I sit stunned by the weight of his words.
If it takes true love, proven true love, to win the competition, he’s right—I cannot win this.
But I don’t want to win. Becoming a Skyborn, living in this place under the Benevolent’s watchful eye, doesn’t sound much better than being in the districts.
Winning doesn’t get Serafina medicine, it doesn’t make sure Miss Omon, the others, are treated like humans. Winning fixes nothing.
Ethyria is a cage.
I’m breaking out of it.
I notice he is wearing the same clothes he had on yesterday. His eyes are red, his usually neat braid unkempt.
“You won’t make it to the end,” he says. “And I don’t mean that as an insult. Neither would I.”
He’s wrong. He doesn’t realize how badly I want this. How much Serafina is depending on me. “Try me.”
“I have one chance to get this right, or I have to wait another ten years.”
An idea strikes me that makes my gut swim. “I’ll pair up with someone and pretend to like them or love them or whatever. Is the item you want something small enough to fit in my pocket?”
“You should have taken the servitude sentence and done this the way I wanted.”
“Easy for you to say. You weren’t the one being expected to sign your entire life away.
Caelus—” My breath hitches at hearing his name come out of my mouth.
Like I know him. Like we know each other.
“I’m in the tournament; it’s done. So you can try trusting me with this and help me succeed, or give up on your plans. ”
I’ve put everything on the line. This is the only way I have a shot of getting off this island.
“I can do this,” I say. “I can fool them all, and I’ve never found a place I couldn’t slip my way out of.”
“Until coming here.”
I close the distance between us, trying to prove something to both of us. He’s so close I’ve stopped breathing. Heat rushes through me. “Lucent bet on me. I am your only chance.”
At the mention of his cousin, the mood in the room shifts, like a change in the wind. After a long silence, he crosses the space pensively. “You want a ship?”
“And gold. I’ll also need new identification for me and a few others.”
He considers me. “I’d need their names in advance.”
“I can do that.”
He is silent, and my heart tries to jump out of my chest.
“People die in this tournament, Axira.”
I go cold all over, blinking too quickly. “I won’t die,” I say. “I have too many reasons to live.”
He doesn’t speak for some time. Finally, when the air inside me feels like it might burst, he says, “Fine.”
I try to exhale but can’t.
“You cannot fail,” he continues. “The Ascension Ceremony is after the final trial, when they bring all the tournament survivors to the arena. You have to pick someone among the contestants to pretend to be a true-love match with. When I get you out, if I can get you out unseen, you’ll be a highly sought-after criminal.
Your match will be punished severely. They will think he’s guilty too. He will probably be…”
Killed.
I swallow.
“We have to be very careful how we communicate,” he adds. “We shouldn’t even be seen speaking after this.”
“I’ve already forgotten your name,” I say.
He almost laughs, and it breathes life into me. Maybe I will see Serafina again; maybe she will dance in the sunshine on the deck of a ship.
“First thing,” Caelus says, “figure out who you will pair up with. My father expects strong breeding matches out of these pairings. He’s thinking about the patriots you’ll be expected to birth.”
I feel sick.
“Everyone will be hesitant at first,” he continues, “but when the Heartfillers wear off and the withdrawal fades, and there are no gloves and chains, everyone will be starved to find a connection. If you wait until everyone’s taken, you might end up with someone who is not easily duped.”
“Find someone to betray. Got it. Can you tell me more about the trials?”
“I don’t know much more. They’re physical. You’re Saltblood and a smuggler—you’ll do better than most if you stay focused. Convincing a contestant you’re falling in love with them will be your biggest challenge.”
I tug my gloves tighter up my arms.
“Get me the names of everyone who needs new identification,” Caelus says. “The Mercyenforcers I’m sending to get your things are leaving by midday. I’ll send you with them to say your goodbyes and make any last preparations. Be discreet. Do you understand?”
“I do.”
“Alright.” He extends his hand. “Steal for me and a ship is yours.”
I take his hand, slipping my gloves into his to shake.
The mold of our fingers cupped around each other feels strange.
Like holding something more fragile than flesh.
I don’t pull away from him right away, and neither does he.
When his thumb explores the back of mine, I snatch it back, my heart squeezing at the thought of seeing the orphanage again.
“You haven’t told me what I’m smuggling from the ceremony.”
His jaw flexes. “Magic. You’re stealing magic.”