Chapter Twenty-five
LOR
choke on the dust coating the inside of my mouth as I roll over onto myI back, sunlight stinging my eyes. The crowd is still cheering, celebrating the Tributes who’ve survived. I feel hands on me, someone gently tugging my leg, and I groan as fire shoots through my limbs. I can’t feel anything but
pain, my foot numb and my breathing cinched tight.
Two Fae healers hover over me, tending to the slice in my thigh. They work with efficiency, cleaning, then bandaging my wound. Atlas had said they could only heal us to prevent our death, so they’re doing what they can to stem the loss of blood. My head spins and my vision blurs.
While they tend to me, I listen to the crowd celebrating, wishing I could muster up the same energy.
It takes me a few minutes to piece together everything that just happened.
Halo. What was she thinking? I’m so furious with her that a hard knot of rage
flares in my gut. She nearly dragged us both into that pit. Even if she could have leaped clear of the hole, why would she forfeit the contest? She was going to throw this all away. If she’s eliminated from the Trials, she gets a cushy lifetime job as a handmaiden, but I can’t drag up an ounce of sympathy, knowing that if it had been me who’d landed on the stadium floor, there would be no honored place in Aphelion for me.
One healer places a hand under my back and helps me sit, holding out two small pills. I take them and swallow them dry. They immediately take effect, dulling the searing ache in my leg. I’m surrounded by several people, including Halo, Tesni, Apricia, Gabriel, and Atlas, along with a trio of palace note-takers frantically writing.
The king drops in front of me, his large hand cupping the side of my face.
“How are you feeling?” he asks, concern in his bright blue eyes. “That was quite a finish.” He grins then, and while I’m exhausted and angry and hurt, there’s so much evident pride in that smile that I can’t help but return it.
Gabriel is now crouched down next to Atlas and rolls his eyes. “Let’s get you back to the palace.” He reaches out to help me stand, holding one arm
while Atlas holds the other.
“Your Majesty,” one warder says, “I can do that.” Atlas waves him off.
“Lor,” Halo moves in front of us. “I’m…” she trails off, not wanting to reveal her actions in front of the king. Throwing the contest would be an act tantamount to treason against Aphelion, and the consequences would be
much worse than simply being cut from the Trials. But I have no desire to punish her to that extent, so I say nothing, pinning her with a glare that I hope conveys the scale of my displeasure.
“We’ll talk about it later,” I say pointedly, and she folds her lips together, nodding.
Atlas and Gabriel spin me around, one of my arms wrapped around each of their necks. They’re both so tall they have to bend down considerably for me to reach. Atlas lets out a huff of frustration and scoops me into his arms.
Startled, I look up at him, my eyes wide.
He grins. “Hello there.”
“Hi,” I say.
“Wrap your arms around my neck,” he orders, and I nod, doing as he says.
The movement sends a fresh wave of dizziness to my head, and I press my forehead to the curve of his neck, waiting for it to pass. He starts walking and I slowly peel open my eyes, looking over his shoulder. Apricia watches me in the king’s hold. Blood streaks across her cheek, and her eyes are like daggers.
It’s then I remember someone shouting my name as I crossed the narrow balance beam.
I’d convinced myself it was Willow. In my stressed-out haze, my mind had been playing tricks. Realization dawns, and I throw her a searing glare. It was her. She made me slip and nearly fall into the pit. She smirks in response, her eyes glowing with her near moment of triumph. I'm going to kill her, too.
Gabriel files in behind Atlas, blocking my view, and I scowl. He returns it with an imperious arch of his brow.
“How many made it?” I finally ask, my thoughts settling slowly. I look up at Atlas, his expression growing dark.
“We lost one to the pit,” he says in a low voice, and my stomach clenches.
I see the flash of her red hair and hear the sounds of the thogrul as he smashed through her bones and chewed up her life. “Griane and Ostara were disqualified.” I close my eyes.
“So there are four of us left.” My voice is wooden, like its insides have been scraped out. There are two more challenges and only four of us left. I
mourn the loss of Hesperia, though she was never kind to me. It’s hard to not think about how I’m even closer to my goal. What if I survive to stand before the Sun Mirror? What will it do with me?
We’ve reached the palace gates, thanks to Atlas’s brisk pace. He takes me through the halls as dozens of people offer to relieve me from his arms, but he brushes them all off. We reach my room to find Mag already waiting with
her hands clasped together, bouncing on her toes.
She coos when she sees me, fluttering about me like a headless mother hen.
“Oh, you’re a fright!” she declares. “Bring her into the bathroom. I have the tub waiting. We need to get her cleaned up.” Mag bites her bottom lip in worry as Atlas brings me in and gently sets me on the upholstered bench where Mag directs him. She immediately drops to her knees and starts unbuckling my boots.
I lean against the wall, letting her take care of me. It feels nice to have someone worry about my well-being, even if she’s paid to be here. When she’s done with my boots, she reaches for the laces on my jerkin and then
looks at the king, clearing her throat.
“Your Majesty, it wouldn’t be proper for you to stay while I attend to the Tribute.” She says this meaningfully, and I snort a tired laugh. Atlas has already seen plenty of me, but I guess we’re pretending we’ve both been on our best behavior. Atlas tips his head to Mag and then to me. “Of course. I’ll
come back and see how you’re doing later.”
Before he leaves, he bends down and presses a gentle kiss to my temple before he takes a deep inhale. “You were amazing today,” he says softly, and
I smile up at him, a river of warmth trickling through my ribcage.
“Thank you.”
He gives me a quick bow and then leaves, clapping Gabriel on the shoulder where he stands in the doorway, glowering.
Mag waves him in. “Help me get her out of these.” She gestures to my blood-soaked pants, or what’s left of them, after the healers tore away most of the fabric to get to my wound.
“Hey,” I say. “Why can he be here? I don’t want him seeing me naked.”
Gabriel smirks and pulls out a dagger from his belt. “Nothing I haven’t seen before, Tribute.”
“That is hardly the point,” I say through clenched teeth, pain flaring as Mag shifts me to remove my jerkin and the thin shirt underneath. I cross my arms over my chest, glaring at Gabriel, who eyes me with cool detachment.
“Trust me, I’m not interested in the unmentionable bits of mouthy human girls.” He brings the dagger towards me, and I let out a small shriek, attempting to get away and then groaning as my leg gives a sharp throb. The pills the healers gave me helped, but they haven’t taken away all the pain.
Gabriel digs his fingers into the waistband of my leggings and jerks me towards him with little concern for my injured state. “Sit still,” he growls,
and then deftly begins cutting away the leather.
“Mag,” I hiss. “Could you get something to cover me?”
“Oh! Of course,” she says, grabbing a towel and throwing it over me just as Gabriel peels away the last of my leggings, but not before he gets an eyeful of the unmentionable bits he claims he has no interest in. My cheeks
flush and he smirks, clearly wallowing in my distress.
“Help me carry her to the tub,” Mag says, standing up, and I can’t believe how unbothered she is by Gabriel seeing me naked like this. “The healers
gave her waterproof bandages so she can go straight in.”
“Don’t.” I put out a hand when he reaches down to scoop me up. “I can
walk.”
He raises his hands in supplication and I prepare to stand, but my leg has gone stiff and as soon as I try to rise, I nearly collapse on the ground. Gabriel catches me, his large hands finding my bare skin. He wraps one arm around my shoulders and then sweeps another under my knees and rolls his eyes.
“Watch where you’re touching,” I snap, and he snorts. Mag keeps
gesturing him over as though it’s not completely obvious where the massive tub sits in the center of the room. Gabriel walks up the three steps, then stops at the top. He flashes me a wicked grin, and suddenly I’m worried.
“Enjoy your bath, Tribute.”
Then he lets go, dropping me in an unceremonious heap into the tub. I scream as I land, my ass hitting the hard marble with a thud, pain flaring in my tailbone and up my spine. I flail in the water, the towel now wet and pasted to my breasts and stomach. Finding the edges of the tub, I hoist myself into a sitting position, my leg shrieking in protest.
Gabriel is laughing so hard he throws his head back, and I can see every one of his teeth. His wings flutter as though they’re also in on the joke.
“You asshole!” I scream. He backs down the stairs, still laughing. “I hate you!” As he turns to leave, I shout at his back, but not before he gives me a mocking tip of his imaginary hat. I’m going to kill him.
When he’s gone, Mag sets to work scrubbing my skin and dousing my hair in warm, soapy water. “Can I request a new warder?” I ask. “Is he this much
of an ass to everyone?”
Mag flattens her lips. “He does seem to have taken a strong dislike to you,” she muses. “He wasn’t like that last time.” At that, her eyes go wide and then
she quickly looks away.
“Last time?” I ask. “What do you mean last time?”
She waves an absent hand. “What? Oh. I didn’t say that.”
“Yes, you did.” Mag doesn’t answer, wiping my arms with the soft sponge.
I grab her wrist and hold it, forcing her to look at me. “What aren’t you telling me?”
Worry trickles into the lines of her face. “It’s forbidden,” she whispers, looking around the room as though someone is here in the bathroom,
eavesdropping.
“You might as well tell me now, because I won’t stop asking until you do.
Or I’ll ask Atlas.”
Mag shoots me an ominous look, but that’s the right motivation because she says, “You didn’t hear this from me.”
“Fine,” I agree. “A bird told me.”
She glares. “I’m beginning to see why the captain dislikes you so much.”
“Tell me,” I say, ignoring her comment.
She dips the sponge in the water and then swipes it along my back, scrubbing my skin. “The last Sun Queen Trials weren’t over five hundred years ago,” she says. “They were two years ago.”
Something drops in my chest. “What do you mean, two years ago? What happened?”
Mag stops scrubbing my back, leaning her forearms on the edge of the tub.
“We’re really not supposed to speak of it.”
A snarl gathers in my throat. “But you’re going to tell me.”
Mag meets my gaze. “They all died.”
That feeling in my stomach sinks even further. “What do you mean?”
She shakes her head. “It was during one of the challenges.” She drops the
sponge in the bath and squirts a dollop of purple shampoo into her hand.
Standing behind me, she begins washing my hair as if she can’t bear to face
me. “I don’t know what happened—they kept the details secret, but the Tributes went in and then no one came out. Just the king, the warders, and Madame Odell. The Trials were cancelled and then never spoken of again until a few weeks ago, when the king announced they’d be holding them again.”
She’s scrubbing my head vigorously now, her nervousness manifesting
itself on my scalp. I let her continue, enjoying the feel of her digging into my skin. We both sit in silence, accompanied only by the squelch of the soap’s lather.
A detail about what Mag just told me nags like a scratch I can’t reach. If the last Trials were two years ago, then another Tribute from The Aurora must have been chosen. I rack my brain, trying to remember if another young woman from Nostraza left the prison. No one comes to mind. Most of Nostraza’s inmates are men, and I would have noticed a woman around my age go missing. Unless the Aurora King chose her from somewhere else? I still don’t understand why he let me go after everything that happened.
When Mag is done washing my hair, she flips on the handheld shower and
rinses it with a warm stream of water. I turn to look at her. “You have no idea
how they all died?”
“I hear rumors. The servants talk.”
“What rumors?”
“I’m sure they’re not true.” She squirts a dollop of conditioner on her hand,
not meeting my eye.
“What rumors?” I repeat.
“That the king wasn’t happy with the prospects and so he ended the
Trials…prematurely.”
I cut her a look, and her face has gone pale. “Is that true?” I think of the
king. Of his kindness. Of the way he’s been so good to me. There’s no way that same Fae could do something like this. Is there?
“No,” Mag says firmly, but it feels like she’s convincing herself. “Of course it’s not true. People will say all sorts of terrible things, won’t they?”
Her voice has taken on an edge, the pitch rising as she prattles on about how people love to tell lies and the king wouldn’t do that sort of thing.
The more she denies it, the more skeptical I become.
If it’s true, could it happen again? There are only four of us left and two more challenges. Will any of us make it to the end? How did those other Tributes fail to measure up? Atlas has hinted more than once he expects me to win, but have I just been hearing what I want to hear?
Mag must be mistaken. These are just cruel rumours spread by bored Fae who have nothing better to do than spin lies made of barbed wire.
She rinses the conditioner from my hair and then wraps my head in a towel to squeeze out the excess water.
“There,” she says. “Much better. Are you okay to walk, or shall I summon the captain to help you out?” She makes to turn from the room and I call out,
holding up a hand.
“No. Don’t you dare get him. I can manage on my own.” Gabriel would probably toss me off the balcony by “accident” this time. Mag holds on to my arms as I slowly ease up to stand, wincing at the ache in my leg. Sitting on my butt, I scoot out and drag myself down the steps before Mag wraps me in
a fluffy robe.
Taking a deep breath, I haul myself up to stand, my arm wrapped around Mag’s shoulders. She’s about half a head shorter than me and the perfect
height to use as a crutch while I limp heavily to the bed.
“You should get some rest,” she coos and then helps me ease under the
covers. Suddenly my eyelids are so heavy I can barely keep them open. I don’t respond as I bury into the soft blankets and pillows and drift off to sleep.
I’m not sure how long I’m asleep, but when I awake, the sky is dark and the lights in my room are low. I stretch my arms overhead, wincing at the dull ache in my leg. Someone has left a glass of water and two more pain pills on my bedside table. I reach for them when I hear angry whispers from the bathroom.
The door is partially open, and I make out the hushed voices of Gabriel and the king.
“Who is she, Atlas? What is she doing here and why are you so interested in her? I don’t trust this,” Gabriel says, anger in his tone.
Atlas responds, but only the muffled sound of his voice reaches me. I hold perfectly still, not wanting them to know I’m awake. I have every right to
hear what Gabriel is saying behind my back.
“You could have any one of these girls. They’d be a much better choice for you,” Gabriel says. “Get rid of her.”
At that, my eyes go wide as I lay perfectly still. What? Get rid of me?
“You’re being ridiculous,” Atlas says, louder this time. The exasperation in his voice loosens some of my tension. “There’s nothing to worry about. Trust
me. She’s the right one. I’m sure of it.”
“Atlas—” Gabriel says, a warning in his tone.
“I said enough,” Atlas replies. “You are responsible for her safety and ensuring she passes the Trials. Zerra knows I’ve done my part.”
“That’s what I’ve been doing,” Gabriel says, and I can practically hear him gritting his teeth.
I frown as several events piece themselves together. Atlas giving me the book in the library and the hint about the clothing. The mermaid monster
chasing me and suddenly stopping in its tracks. Gabriel drilling me on the balance beam. That magical hand that seemed to have saved me from falling off the gauntlet.
“If one single hair on her head is harmed, you will answer for it. Do I make myself clear?” Atlas says next.
There’s a long pause and I imagine them in a stand-off. Am I safe around Gabriel? If Atlas is truly worried, should he still be my warder? And why have they been helping me? What does Atlas want?
The Aurora King chose me for this, not Atlas. Right? Suddenly, that distinction seems very important. I think of the riot Gabriel claimed didn’t happen that night he took me from Nostraza and wonder if everything I’ve
been told here is the truth.
Finally, I hear Gabriel reply, “Yes, Your Majesty. Perfectly clear.”
“Good,” Atlas bites out. “And don’t question my judgment again. Our friendship only extends so far. I am still your king, and you are still my servant.”
I’m not sure if Gabriel replies or just nods, because a second later, the door swings open and I shut my eyes, feigning sleep. I hear footsteps move towards the bed, and I try to regulate my breathing and relax my face. A
moment later, I feel a soft hand touch my cheek and a thumb sweep across my bottom lip.
“I’ll come and check on you again later,” Atlas says in a soft voice. I then hear the sharp clip of his steps as he turns to leave the room.
“Come,” Atlas barks, followed by the sound of Gabriel’s footsteps. I wait for the door to close before I open my eyes and sit up, wondering what to make of what I just heard.
