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“How is Ever doing?” she asked.
Valia shook her head. “He’s frightened, but Mistress Moran has taken him under her wing. She seems besotted with the child.”
Kerrigan nodded. “Good. She’s like that with all the littlings.”
“So, who do you think is going to win?”
“I really have no idea.”
“Fordham, of course,” Valia said.
But Kerrigan hadn’t had a vision again. She didn’t know who was going to win or if Fordham would be in danger. She was walking into this task blind. And it was the most important. The five people who succeeded would get one of the five dragons and be inducted into the Society. A dream come true.
“I hope so.”
They stepped into the competitors’ box in the arena. The last eight competitors stood in clusters around the room. Fordham stood alone with his arms crossed over his broad chest. Audria laughed with Roake, her blonde hair fluttering in the faint breeze. Noda stood with Posana and Chelcie, speaking furtively. Darrid glared at Fordham. Taiga seemed to be trying to get his attention. Everyone, but maybe Audria, looked stressed. Kerrigan could feel it coming off the room.
“Almost time,” Mistress Sinead said reassuringly.
Bastian appeared then, stepping into the box last. His eyes went to Valia, and he nodded at her. She scurried into whatever position they had agreed on.
He clapped Kerrigan on the shoulder. “My dear girl, I heard what you did last night.”
“Oh?” she asked warily.
“What an achievement. I’m so proud of you. We haven’t apprehended Basem Nix, but we certainly will. I assure you of that.” Bastian glowed with approval. “And rescuing a member of my own tribe, I cannot thank you enough. Having Ever Emberton home safe brings me so much peace.”
“Oh, well, of course,” she muttered, flustered.
“You have a bright future ahead of you.”
“Thank you, Master Bastian.”
“Now, on to the tournament!” he cheered and headed toward Valia.
Once Bastian was gone, Fordham came to her side. “Any information for me?” he asked hopefully.
She shook her head. She hadn’t had a single vision. Nothing to tell her what was coming. He was going in as blind as she was.
“That’s all right. I can win this anyway,” he said confidently, his hand going to his raven medallion.
“Have they told you what’s going to happen?”
“Last night, before the fight,” he confided. “It’s a battle of wits. We will be transported around Alandria and have to try to get to this cave network. We can only bring our medallions with us. There’s no set amount of time either. We could be out there for days and have to find our own food and water. There will be tasks along the way. If we make it through, then we get to choose a dragon.”
Kerrigan nodded. She had been a part of the last dragon tournament in the final task. Though she had sworn to never discuss it. They had even put a spell over the binding to keep her from saying anything. But she knew precisely what would happen once he found that cave network. She just hoped he made it.
“Good luck,” was all she said.
He reached out and slipped his pinkie around hers. Just the barest gesture, a slight squeeze, and her entire insides melted into goo. She looked up into his bright gray eyes, and her heart fluttered. He quirked a half-smile before straightening and joining the rest of the competitors.
Kerrigan moved to the front of the box as music blared, and the final eight competitors were paraded around the arena one last time. After today, eight would narrow down to five, and those five would all be bound to dragons, become dragon riders, and join the Society. The ultimate honor.
A pang of envy flashed through her. She had told Helly that she wanted to make something of herself. That she didn’t want to just be left behind… again. But it was more. She wanted that. Fame and glory and to be a part of the lawmaking. From the inside, she could actually enact change—or at least, try, which was more than was happening now.
But it would never, ever be. After Cyrene, they’d never allow a half-Fae girl in their ranks. And on some level, Kerrigan hardly blamed them… but that didn’t mean she wanted to accept it.
The competitors were in line, and the master of ceremonies gave final instructions. The crowd cheered. The tension in the enormous arena was frothing.
And then came the final bout of information.
“Today, we’re testing to see if you are worthy to join the ranks of the great Society. We have already tested your physical and mental prowess in the first two tasks, but this will test your will. To do that, the officiators have agreed to give each competitor a potion that will temporarily remove your access to your magic.”
Cheers from the crowd. Shock and disgust from the competitors. Kerrigan remembered the feeling of being without magic when Clare had delivered a similar potion. It had been terrifying. Also, she found it ironic that a society built around the biggest and baddest magical wielders would make their competitors no better than the humans they so loathed. Only someone so deep into their own privilege wouldn’t see the absurdity of it.
