Cedric’s eyes nearly rolled into the back of his head when herealized that despite her casual pose, she was arguing with the fae woman standing beside her. Their voices rose into the hall, cutting through the quiet conversations happening around them. He didn’t think there was a single person present who couldn’t hear every word.
The purple-haired hellion did not seem particularly bothered by this. “So that’s it? You won’t even let me finish saying my piece, Kit?” she screeched.
The one called Kit rolled her eyes. Even from across the hall, Cedric could see they were a fascinating contrast of colors—one of them ocean blue, the other green as new grass. She was of average height and strong body, with rich brown skin and silver-white hair cropped to her chin. A short sword was sheathed at each hip and a pair of silver-and-gold wings were folded behind her back. Not hidden, Cedric noted with interest.
“You’ve said more than enough,” Kit said.
“I haven’t even begun to?—”
“Look around, Elyria. It’s already happening. You need to let it go.”
Elyria.
The name was softer and more lyrical than Cedric had expected. He wasn’t sure it matched the hellcat currently seething at her...friend? Rival? That they knew each other was clear, though he couldn’t figure out the nuances of their relationship, nor did he have any notion as to what their quarrel was about.
Cedric recognized Lord Leviathan Church’s aggrieved sigh coming from behind him. “As I said before, no discipline, no restraint.”
“Indeed, my lord,” Cedric agreed, though he didn’t tear his eyes from the pair. Until Lord Church’s reminder, Cedric hadn’t put together that Elyria and Kit were clearly the ones who had been having that...family spat...when his party arrived. Had they truly been fighting about whatever this was this entire time? He sighed. They would be absolutely insufferable during the Crucible if this kept up.
“I can’t let it go,” Elyria said through gritted teeth, “ifyouwon’t let me in. You’ve spent the past two days avoiding me.”
“Can you blame me?” Kit mumbled.
A grin played at the edges of Cedric’s mouth. He thought about the way Elyria had been flattened by that burst of water. Kit was atideweaver, then.
If Elyria heard Kit’s sardonic interjection, she didn’t let on. “You wanted time to mope, I gave it to you. You wanted to stay distracted; I allowed it—much to my own detriment, I will add. But now we’re out of time. I can’t let you off the hook anymore.”
“You’re making a scene,” Kit said, her nostrils flaring. She seemed to be looking anywhere but at the many faces now staring at them as she stalked away.
Elyria followed. “I don’t care.”
“Clearly,” someone muttered. Another one of the fae champions—a woman with wine-red hair that cascaded between her orange wings in a smooth wave.
A smattering of snide laughter erupted in response.
“Mind your business, Gael,” Elyria sneered, her expression dark. The laughter cut off abruptly.
“I told you when you arrived that you wouldn’t change my mind,” Kit said, only a few paces from Cedric now. “You haven’t. Iwillgo through that Gate. I will enter the Sanctum. I will take on the Crucible.” Her eyes narrowed. “I will win.”
Cedric’s mouth was moving before he realized what he was doing. “You mean to keep her from entering the Sanctum?” he asked.
“Cedric.” Lord Church’s voice was a low warning.
Cedric barely heard it. “Are you so threatened by one of your own kind”—he suppressed the derision in his voice as best he could, but given the way Elyria’s eyes narrowed, he must not have done a very good job—“that you would keep her from championing your realm?”
Not that it truly mattered, Cedric supposed, given thathehad every intention of winning. But there was something in the idea of Elyria trying to prevent Kit from entering that didn’t sit right with him. Champions trained for years—decades for the Arcanians, he presumed—to take on the Arcane Crucible. For the hopefuls in this room, today marked the culmination of long-held hopes and dreams. He might have had his moments of trepidation, but it was for Cedric too.
And damn anyone who would actively try to prevent those dreams from being realized. Even for a fae.
Elyria whirled, her eyes narrowing on Cedric. “In what realm is thisconversationanyof your business?”
Cedric jutted his chin. “With the way you’ve been carrying on, I believe you have made it the business of everyone present.”
“Hear, hear!” cheered Gael.
Elyria ignored her. “This is a family matter, human. Stay. Out. Of. It.” She punctuated each word with a tap of her staff.
“She’s right,” Kit said. “Itisa family matter.” Her voice was like ice when she turned to Elyria and added, “So why are you here again?”
