Cedric’s eyes widened. “That seems . . .”
“Impossible? Yes, it is.” Lord Church laughed. “But it made for a decent distraction. You might remember it for your return trip.”
Cedric smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.
“Therewillbe a return trip for you,” Lord Church assured him. “You’ve trained hard. Learned well. I have no doubt you’ll run circles around any foolish Arcanian that dares to try you.”
Cedric felt a weight lift from his shoulders. The nobleman’s confidence was bolstering. “Thank you, my lord,” he said quietly.
Lord Church’s expression softened further. “You have a strong heart, Cedric. Stronger than you realize. You can do this. I believe with every fiber of my being that you are the only one who can.”
The wagon creaked and swayed as they continued along the winding road toward the Lost City. The landscape began to change, trees thinning to reveal rolling hills and the deserted remains of towns that had been decimated when the Chasms tore through the land. The aurora overhead grew bright as the sun slipped lower in the sky.
“There,” called Thibault, pointing ahead.
Cedric’s gaze followed a path of flickering campfires to Luminaria’s ivy-covered city walls. The broken spires of Castle Lumin poked through the mist, towering over them.
Lord Church took a tremulous breath.
Two separate camps were set up on the outskirts of the city, and Thibault turned the wagon toward the one on the right. But somethingelse caught Cedric’s attention, tugged his focus in the opposite direction. A shiver ran down his spine—magic.
Voices that should not have been audible at this distance rode on a phantom wind from the camp at the left—the Arcanian camp, Cedric realized. He couldn’t make out the words being exchanged, but the sentiment was clear enough. Anger, rage, hurt. Cedric squinted, recognizing the pointed ears and luminous wings of two fae women. One of them summoned a burst of water that sent her opponent stumbling.
Cedric smirked as she fell to the ground.
“Can they not keep their magic to themselves for even a single night?” Thibault griped.
“Truly boorish behavior,” Cedric agreed, even as he found himself wondering what the reason for the scuffle was. Then, another thought occurred. “How are they fighting each other?” he asked.
“Far be it from me to understand the intricacies of the Crucible’s magic,” Lord Church replied, sounding bored. “But I would surmise it is because their intentions are not malicious. Violence may be forbidden during this time, but perhaps we are simply witnessing some sort of...family spat.”
Hargrave let out a grunt. “They flaunt their magic to intimidate us, knowing Cedric and the other human champions must conserve their mana for the trials.”
“Would that we could just go over there and slaughter them all,” Thibault said, lip curling as his eyes darted to the sky. “This magical truce forced upon us by the aurora is utter bullshit.”
“I do believe that kind of thinking is the precise reason said magical truce exists,” Cedric offered. “I imagine the celestials prefer we champions at least make it into the Sanctum before we start killing each other.”
“Pay the brutes no mind,” Lord Church said, waving his cane dismissively. “Cedric will have the opportunity to deal with them in the Sanctum soon enough.”
Thibault nodded as he slowed the horse, pulling off to the side of the road. He kept one eye on the scuffle, looking slightly nauseous, even as he helped unpack supplies from the back of the wagon.
Cedric found it difficult to look away too. His vision narrowed on the second woman—the one who had been knocked down. He couldn’tsee much—a flash of purple hair, the shimmer of sparkling wings that were a near-perfect match in color to the aurora blooming overhead.
Then, he didn’t need to look, because hefelt. Felt a rush of power as the ground rumbled below him. Lord Church grabbed onto the side of the wagon for balance and Cedric ran to assist him, finally ripping his gaze from the fight.
“What was that?” Hargrave muttered as he helped Lord Church right himself from the other side.
A chill slithered through Cedric. He suspected he would very soon find out.
9
TYPICAL FAE
CEDRIC
Two days later,the aurora vanished.
For one glorious moment, the sky looked like it was on fire. The brilliant, eddying colors of the aurora burned brighter and brighter until they finally coalesced into ribbons of pure white light.
