The opening widened, thorny tendrils moving with ease. As if sighing with relief, the roots unwound, untangled. They bent to Elyria’s will with barely more than a thought.
Within moments, a wide, arched doorway stood in front of the group.
And as quickly as the glorious mélange of magic had come on, that thrumming power in Elyria’s veins decreased, dampened, softened...until it was gone.
She stepped back, dabbing at her cheek with the back of her hand. “See? What did I tell you?” she said between panting breaths. “Unity.”
All seven champions stared at her, disbelief etched on their faces.
“What?” she asked, suddenly self-conscious.
“That was . . .” Gael trailed off.
“You were...” Zephyr seemed at a loss for words.
Nox just watched Elyria with that keen crimson gaze.
Several more moments passed before Kit finally spoke. “You were glowing, Ellie,” she said. “The second Cedric’s blood dropped into your hand it was like...I can’t describe it. You were like a living aurora.” She paused, wringing her hands, then lowered her voice. “Was it...Was it like that before? With Ev?”
Elyria bit her bottom lip. It wasn’t. That had been nothing like this. Not even close. Not just because of the number of people or the amount of power involved, either. Itfeltdifferent. And Elyria thought that Kit might have understood that because without waiting for an answer she strode toward the newly created doorway.
“Shall we?” Kit said, peering into the passage beyond.
The labyrinth loomed before them, dark and twisting pathways stretching ahead, cutting off to the left and right. The walls seemed crafted from the same roots and thorns as the outer perimeter, reaching all the way to the tops of the trees—to the barrier. There would still be no flying ahead, no peeking overtop.
No cheating.
Elyria thought she saw something move deep inside the maze, something flickering in the shadows. But before she could be sure, the walls shifted, root and thorn unwinding and rewinding to change the path before their eyes.
“Of course,” Cyren muttered, his wings flicking in irritation as he joined her. “Couldn’t just be a straight path, could it?”
Suddenly, Kit spun, her eyes narrowed on a spot behind Elyria’s head. “No. Not you.”
Elyria turned to see Leona and Belien standing unnervingly close. The back of her neck prickled in warning.
“We’ve seen enough,” said Leona, taking another step toward the doorway. “We’re off to get our crown now.”
Gael stepped into their path, between the pair and Elyria. “You shouldn’t even be allowed in! You didn’t help. You didn’t doanything.”
“Now that’s not fair,” sneered Leona. “We had to sit here and wait for your pathetic asses to figure it out. That took a great deal more effort than you’d think.”
“You’re a disgrace,” Kit said. “You give all humans an even worse name than you’ve already got.”
Belien tensed. “Watch your tongue, pixie witch.”
“It’s thanks to one of us ‘pixie witches’ that you even have the option of moving ahead. Elyria still has yet to hear your thanks.”
Leona laughed—a shrill, piercing sound. “Of course, how rude of me.Thank you.” She sketched a mocking curtsy. “All hail the mighty Revenant—champion of Nyrundelle, slayer of humans, living nightlight.”
Elyria’s hand twitched. The light from the champions’ combined magic might have faded, but some remnant still thrummed in her veins. She could feel it sparking at her fingertips, right alongside her now very awake shadow.
She fought the urge to lash out at the two humans. To fight now would go against everything they just accomplished, everything they now knew about how the Crucible worked and what it wanted.
Leona didn’t seem to care. With a glance at Belien, she took a step toward Elyria, full of menacing promise. “In truth, there is something we should thank you for, I suppose,” she said.
Elyria’s brow creased. “Oh?”
“You demonstrated so beautifully how we might even the magical playing field once we’ve won the crown. If all it takes is a little bit of your blood to wield Arcanian power, maybe things really can start to change after all.”
