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The pointed scowls.
The venomous cackles.
The exchange of gold coins and the tally marks next to our names—mine still at the bottom.
We were nothing more than cattle being herded to our slaughter.
Entertainment.
I lifted my chin higher, refusing to let them get under my skin. Refusing to offer them a performance.
Talon veered to the right and up the stairs to join the other guards on the viewing deck where they’d have a front-row view of the trial as I went to the left toward the other competitors.
“Don’t choke,” Talon mouthed as he took a seat, resting his elbows on the back of the seat.
I glared. He had such a way with words.
Ignoring him, I took my place next to Kelvin, below King Harkin and Prince Bowen’s thrones. Neither he nor Aeron acknowledged me, thankfully. Stone cold, the two of them stared ahead.
I did my best not to fidget.
“Do you have any idea what we’re doing?” a soft voice asked beside me.
I turned to my right to see Lewis—his pale blond hair disheveled.
“No clue. It’s like some sort of circus.”
“I hope not.” Lewis shuddered. “I hate clowns. Elowyn, if King Broderick knew how cruel these creatures truly were…” He knew better than to continue his thought.
The coliseum fell silent as King Harkin and Prince Bowen made their presence, halting our conversation. It gave me an odd sense of comfort knowing we were all trapped together. I only wished we could all leave together. The thought that some of us might not be alive soon was paralyzing. How these might be some of my last moments.
King Harkin held up a hand and everyone, save for the competitors, took their place. “Good morning, sprites, and pixies, fae, and nymphs. Welcome to the first trial.”
Just as they did days before, the crowd erupted into cheers and applause. They were eager thralls to their king’s every word.
By instinct, I searched the crowd for the frustrating—but familiar—eyes of my mentor. Talon remained stoic, however, his gaze still locked on me.
I squirmed, shifting my weight from one foot to the other, and glanced at the king and Prince Bowen, trying to dismiss the way my skin burned from his gaze. He might’ve been sadistic, but he was beautiful—almost uncomfortable in a vicious kind of way.
The king held up his hand again, and the audience obeyed the prompt for silence. “This will be the first of seven trials designed to ensure there will only be one winner. There are no rules other than to complete the assignment of each trial. I have placed a veil around the audience, preventing them from using their magic to give aid or disrupt the trials.”
“You will have one hour to exit the maze. There will be obstacles along the way designed to test your avidity. Incentives to appease your thirst. Those of whom that cannot escape won’t be moving on to the next trial.”
A deep rumble vibrated the ground beneath us, and we turned to find the walls of mirrors rotating in an irregular, haphazard pattern in the center of the arena.
How were we going to navigate an ever-changing maze in an hour? It was impossible. A recipe for failure.
Fear licked my spine, stealing the air from my lungs, and I turned around to find Prince Bowen smiling at us—his teeth sharp and bright in the dim light. The hair on the back of my neck stood. It was crude. Malicious. And something in his eyes—or lack thereof—unsettled me.
Evil.
Pure evil.
I thumbed the ring on my finger, willing myself to relax, but I couldn’t shake the unease that gnawed at my insides.
The veil surrounding the audience shimmered to life, blocking them from view, and the arena darkened. The only source of light now came from the shrubs themselves, and I could’ve sworn twelve more sprouted from the ground.
“Keep in mind, humans, selfishness is insatiable and knows no end. May the one who desires freedom most, win.”
