Page 59 of Feralheart

Below, Eradin stood among the other survivors. Sand caked her knees. Blood smeared her palms. But she’d gotten to her feet and stayed there, and I couldn’t look away from the stubborn set of her shoulders.

“The maze will be efficient,” my mother said. “At least we’ll have proper fun for the second course.”

My jaw tightened, but I consciously relaxed it.

She noticed, and a frown built on her face.

“The crowd will appreciate the contrast,” I said.

Mother needed to maintain order. She thrived in a world where commons stayed in Shaleside, and elites stayed in viewing boxes, and no one questioned which side of that divide they’d been born on.

I didn’t want to watch another person die for the entertainment of people holding betting slips.

Especially not Eradin.

The teleportation magic built toward its peak, reality fraying at the edges where the spell would tear through to deposit the riders in the next arena.

My hands still gripped the rail. I made myself let go.

The Scorching would begin after the commons trial finished its culling. Elite riders would compete for the Oracle stone’s wish. My victory was assumed by everyone, including my mother.

Forty-one riders had entered the last Scorching.

Three had reached the Oracle.

The records didn’t say what happened after that. An oversight or…?

I’d always assumed they’d celebrated. That one of them had taken their wish and the others had been escorted home with some sort of secondary prize. No one actually talked about them now.

I rolled my shoulders, shaking off the weight that had settled there. An old habit. One that never worked, but I kept doing it anyway.

Eradin would survive the next trial or she wouldn’t.

I’d win the race because that’s what I did.

Below, through the shimmer of teleportation magic, I caught one last glimpse of her face.

She wasn’t looking at the maze entrance or her dragon or the other riders.

She was looking at me.

I leaned forward.

Then the magic took her, and I stood alone at the rail with my hands steady and my mask perfect and no idea why I wanted to follow.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

ERADIN

The world snapped back sideways.

Stone bit through my boots and sky pressed down like a hand on my skull, while my stomach remained in the between-space, scattered across the nothing where magic had torn me apart and knit me back together.

I fell forward, hitting the ground. Sand scraped my palms, too hot, and I retched. Nothing came up.

Six of us left.

The second trial waited.