Page 15 of A Race of Trials


  “I’ve never seen so many of them,” I whispered to Ash. “What are they doing?”

  He watched them for a few moments, noticing their unmoving, expressionless forms.

  “I guess they’re there to make sure we don’t step out of the line,” he said. “Seems like a bit of overkill though.”

  I nodded. My thoughts exactly. Once again in these stupid trials, I doubted that all was what it seemed.

  “Champions, enter the circle!” the minister announced grandly. “Wait for the horns!”

  Ash squeezed my hand briefly and then stepped forward into the circle. Tejus entered the circle as well, and they slowly walked toward one another, meeting in the center of the arena.

  Ash drew his broadsword from its scabbard, the pommel dark and worn with age, but the blade still powerful and deadly sharp. Tejus held the sword that he’d won from his father at the labyrinth, the sword of Hellswan. It glinted dangerously, ornate and bejeweled, but its blade uncompromised, and no doubt made from the best steel that money could buy.

  The horns sounded, low and booming across the hollow of the arena. My gut clenched, and I sent out a prayer that Ash made it out of this alive.

  Ash was the quickest to respond. He swiped his sword at Tejus, who blocked it forcefully—a clash echoed. As Tejus blocked the onslaught, he pushed forward, making Ash take a step back to regain his footing. Tejus raised his sword up high, then brought it down, aiming for Ash’s arm. The blades locked together once again, and Ash pushed off.

  A rhythm started to emerge. Both men were well matched. Tejus was clearly the warrior with better precision and style, but Ash’s build and strength seemed to make up for the rest.

  They grunted and heaved, each blow clashing, steel on steel, creating a grating sound that pierced my eardrums and made me wince. As they moved in a guarded, circular motion, my heart felt like it was in my throat. I waited for the familiar feel of Ash reaching out for me with his mind, but it didn’t come.

  A few moments later, I began to realize that both Tejus and Ash were starting to grow tired. The blows came with less speed, and then with less force. They were both sweating heavily, their grunts of effort grew louder. With the crowd waiting in absolute silence, and not so much as a breeze evident, their heavy panting soon became audible and it was almost as if I could feel the effort it took Ash to raise his arm to block or parry each blow.

  I was confused as to why the battle was taking this much out of them, and why their energy seemed to have disappeared almost in an instant.

  They’re being drained.

  I looked around at the red robes who surrounded the circle. Their gazes were fixed intently on the champions, unwavering. No wonder they were growing tired! The red robes were siphoning off their energy—and there wasn’t a thing either of them could do about it.

  Ash, siphon off me!

  I tried to create a connection with him myself, reaching out for his mind so that he could take what little I had to give.

  It was no use—nothing was happening.

  Whenever I felt the connection of our energy start to intertwine, mine would fade out, and Ash would be left unable to grasp onto anything. But he continued to fight, heaving his entire body weight into every blow against Tejus.

  Looking over at Hazel, I could see that Tejus was siphoning heavily off her, but she was starting to fade. She swayed slightly as she stood at the periphery of the circle, her eyes fixed determinedly on her champion.

  Why can’t I do this?

  I re-focused, trying with all the energy I had to reach out to Ash, to give him something, anything I had left.

  It wasn’t enough.

  I could see Ash’s focus slipping away. When Tejus brought down his sword now, Ash’s blocks were slower, the blade closer to his body. He was bleeding heavily from his arm, and I could see another gash in his leg.

  Tejus looked monstrous, his dark features pronounced as his face screwed up in fury and the same look of determination that Hazel wore. He had a deep cut across his cheekbone, covering one side of his face in a dark crimson.

  Please, hold on, Ash, keep going!

  “Come on, Ash!” I cried out loudly. If I couldn’t give him my mental energy, then I was going to give him his own cheerleading section. The crowd started to murmur, and then my cries were joined by theirs—

  “Come on, Ashbik! Win for us!” and, “Keep going—end the Hellswan!”

  Most of the crowd were up on their feet now—tense, anxious—desperately wanting their chosen champion, the champion of the people, to pull through.

  He fought harder. It was killing him. His pale face was even whiter than usual, his eyes a bloodshot red as the siphoning took effect.

  Ash rallied for one last blow. With both hands he clutched at his sword, and with a loud, brutal cry he brought the blade down with a swoosh.

  Tejus blocked it, but Ash held fast, both blades inching steadily toward Tejus’s neck. A brief look of triumph passed through Tejus’s features as he suddenly, violently threw the blades back, knocking Ash to the ground.

  It was done.

  Tejus held the tip of his sword at Ash’s neck.

  “A good fight,” Tejus breathed heavily, “you put up a good fight.”

  No!

  The crowd fell silent, and it was only the ministers who applauded Tejus’s win with an enthusiastic, though restrained, round of hand-clapping.

  Tejus held out his hand to Ash, who took it and let his opponent pull him to his feet. Ash’s face was downcast, and when he stood his shoulders were slumped in defeat. I couldn’t bear to watch.

  Out of the corner of my eye I saw the minister of ceremonies take the podium. He stood right by the royal box, where Queen Trina looked murderous.

  I couldn’t hang around to hear the sycophantic praise from the minister.

  Turning toward the entrance, I set off at a run, moving as fast as my stupid, de-energized body would carry me.

  “Ruby!” Ash called after me, but I was gone.

  I ran into the forest, needing to be alone and as far away from the sounds of the arena and the voices of the smug, self-satisfied ministers within it.

  Finding a fallen log, I slumped down on it, placing my head in my hands. I sat for a moment, listening to the silence of the forest and my gasping breath.

  It wasn’t long before I heard a thrashing coming from the undergrowth toward me, footsteps slow and labored. I looked up in time to see Ash move a branch out of his way and step into the clearing where I was sitting.

  “What are you doing?” he panted.

  “Ugh! I’m so sorry. I completely failed you.”

  He continued walking, even slower but just as determined. His shirt was soaked in blood and sweat, and his body heaved painfully with every step he took, blood slowly seeping from his cuts.

  “It’s my damn fault you lost. I couldn’t—“

  “Ruby. Shut. Up,” he interrupted, taking a final step toward me.

  He yanked me roughly upward from the log and held me fiercely in his arms, his eyes looking straight into mine, boring into me.

  I opened my mouth to speak again, but as I did so, his lips met mine with a low groan—forcing me silent.

  Oh.

  He kissed me, bruising my lips with his force, until his arms wrapped around my frame. I felt dizzy, like the ground was falling away beneath my feet—but Ash held me so tightly it didn’t matter. I could have been falling through air and still have felt like I was anchored safely. My arms tentatively reached upward, across his broad back to feel the trembling skin beneath the fabric of his shirt.

  “Ouch,” he breathed out, breaking his lips from mine and running them gently across the skin of my cheek.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered back.

  “You have nothing to apologize for. I would never have gotten this far without you.”

  His lips found mine again, this time gentler and sweeter, showing me that it was okay, that all that mattered was us—in this m
oment, with the crowds, the ministers and the trials fading into the distance.

  I let it all go, and drowned in the increasing crush of his kisses, while answering them with my own.

  Hazel

  I had taken over Tejus’s bedroom for the afternoon, at his request, while two servants helped me prepare for the coronation ceremony. One was a glum-faced old woman who hadn’t looked me in the eye all day, but the other was a younger, smiling creature who seemed to be bubbling over with excitement.

  I was sitting at a vanity mirror, an item brought in for the occasion, while my hair was combed and pulled into an appropriate style befitting a friend of “his royal highness”, King Tejus of Hellswan.

  After Tejus had won the trials, and the ministers had finished crowding round him and congratulating him while the ‘commoner’ crowd of sentries had trickled off, downhearted and grumbling, Tejus and I had returned to the castle to have someone tend to the wounds Ash had inflicted. Too tired to do much else, I had gone to bed.

  When I woke, my surroundings had changed—I was no longer in the small cubby hole that I’d fallen asleep in, but instead I found myself in one of the guest bedrooms in Tejus’s quarters. I wondered who had put me in here, but I’d not seen Tejus all morning to ask. Only the servants had appeared, and I hadn’t seen anyone else.

  I should have taken a trip down to see Ruby. She had run off after the trial before I could stop her, disappointed with their loss. But before I could do so, the servants had entered the room and practically forced me into a hot bath.

  “Are you excited?” the servant girl asked quietly, out of the elder woman’s hearing.

  “I’m excited to be going home,” I said. “They’ll lift the barriers soon and I’ll be able to return to my dimension.”

  She frowned. “Oh. You’re not going to stay?”

  “This isn’t my home. I want to see my parents. It was the deal I made with Tejus in return for helping him.”

  “But don’t you want to stay with the king?” she replied, apparently shocked.

  I thought she might have the wrong idea about our relationship, and I hesitated before replying.

  “My friends and I… we just want to go home.”

  She nodded, the excitement in her eyes dulling as she digested my news. After a few moments she brightened again. “Well, I loved watching the two of you in the trials. You made such a good team. Don’t you think he’s so handsome?” She giggled, and covered her mouth.

  Handsome?

  Um… Yes, he was. I found him more attractive than I was ready to admit. But he was arrogant, selfish and egotistical too. I felt like I might always have something of a bond with Tejus—we’d been through too much together for me not to feel that way—but I also knew that my feelings toward him were complicated; his mood swings and general surly, calculating demeanor were not things I would miss. Neither would I miss the roller-coaster rides of emotion he brought up in me—furious the one minute, and then feeling almost affection the next as he battled his demons at every turn of the trial—a broken family, spiteful ex-girlfriend, and most of all himself.

  “He is,” I replied to the servant girl.

  It had been the right answer. She continued to work on my hair, her face pink with excitement as she twisted and pinned it up into an elaborate hairdo.

  Next came the dress. It was brought up by two other servants, and there was lots of fussing and inspecting of the needlework. I felt hugely uncomfortable while all this was going on—I was starting to feel like a bride on the day of her wedding, and was totally overwhelmed by all the attention. I started to wonder what would be expected of me at this coronation…I was hoping to be able to blend into the background, but as soon as I caught sight of the dress I realized that would be highly unlikely.

  The bodice was almost sheer gold silk, with artfully placed lace flowers to protect my modesty. It flowed down to a long gown of the same silk, which rippled across the floor—covered in the same lace flowers, thousands of them, woven into the dress. I had also been given a pale white cape, its fabric similar to the smoothest suede, with soft, gray lining.

  I crossed my arms.

  “What’s wrong?” asked the youngest servant girl.

  “Well, it’s beautiful, but… it’s just too much.”

  “But King Tejus ordered this for you. It’s made to your measurements exactly. You have to wear it,” she pleaded.

  “I don’t mean to be ungrateful…but isn’t there something a bit plainer I could wear?” I asked.

  “No.” The girl looked downcast again. “We’ll get into trouble if this gown isn’t worn. I don’t think the king would be happy with us.”

  I rolled my eyes. She’d played her trump card. I couldn’t let a bunch of sentries who’d tried to help me get in trouble—especially with Tejus new to his role. If he wanted to change the reputation of the Hellswans, stuff like this would matter.

  “Okay,” I agreed reluctantly, making a mental note to have a word with Tejus about this later. “Let’s try to get it on…” I looked doubtfully at the gown—it looked so small, and had no obvious openings. Would they have to sew me into the thing?

  Miraculously, only a few minutes later I was dressed. They brought me a full-length mirror, and I stopped dead when I saw myself. Well, it hardly seemed to be me. I looked like some fairy princess, totally unrecognizable—and totally uncomfortable with the transformation. There was something about the intricate detail and the immaculate coloring and finish of the gown that made me want to run off and find my Chucks and my most comfortable sweats.

  “Here, try the cape.” The girl rushed forward and threw the article over my shoulders. This was an item I could get behind. It was so soft and luxurious, and kept the near-constant chill of the castle at bay.

  “I like this… Thank you.”

  “You look beautiful,” she replied. “Like sentry royalty!”

  No, thanks.

  I covered up my disdain with a smile, and realized that my jaw was going to be aching for the rest of the day with faux-smiles and nodding along to praise directed at Tejus.

  A moment later, the servants scuttled from the room as if they’d all simultaneously heard some unspoken command, and Tejus walked in.

  He stopped in the doorway, his gaze taking in my hair and the gown and then swiftly settling on the view from his bedroom window.

  Charming.

  “You look… different,” he managed eventually.

  “So do you.” He was dressed in the robes I had seen his father wear—a dark crimson red, embroidered with golden thread. Rings adorned his fingers, and he looked the part—the cold, distant king of Hellswan.

  “I hope the ceremony will be brief,” he replied, changing the subject, “I want you to sit by my side at the throne. It’s a non-negotiable request,” he added, before I could protest, “the last one I will make of you before you’re free.”

  I stared at him stonily, angry that another demand was being made of me against my will.

  “Hazel… I need you there,” he said.

  “Can you not ask someone more suitable to join you? Like Queen Trina, for instance?” I asked before I could stop myself.

  He frowned, confused.

  “Why would I ask her?”

  “Oh, I don’t know—wasn’t my attempted kidnapper your past girlfriend or whatever?” I bit out.

  I didn’t know why I said it. I supposed I was just sick of so many unsaid things between us—the stone, the queen, the integrity trial. Now that the pressure of the trials were over, I wanted answers.

  “So you overheard that,” he replied after a pause.

  “I was looking for you. Why didn’t you tell me? Don’t you think I should have known that I needed to be wary of her?”

  “She wasn’t a threat. I would never have let her harm you.” He stopped talking for a moment and looked at me with raised brows. “Is this what you’ve been so angry about all this time? That you thought I wasn’t protecting you?”
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  “No.”

  Yes.

  “I was annoyed you’d been keeping secrets from me, especially after you gave me such a hard time over the stone. And I wasn’t impressed with the integrity trials—I could have died and your only concern was winning.”

  He looked taken aback by my unexpected revelations… and to be honest, so was I.

  “You weren’t going to die. You know that. I knew that. The ministers aren’t quite the monsters you think they are, Hazel. The trial was about balancing the interests of the kingdom with personal ones—I did what was right.” He stared at me, his expression adamant.

  I didn’t know what to say. His arguments seemed perfectly reasonable—but it still didn’t help the way I felt.

  A silence fell between us, during which I avoided Tejus’ gaze. Then he broke it. “We need to leave. Are you ready?”

  I nodded.

  He walked over to me slowly, and held his arm out. I wondered what he was doing for a split second before I understood that he meant for me to take it and walk down with him.

  “It’s appropriate,” he muttered.

  I laid my hand on his upper arm, my body brushing against his. Despite everything, his nearness seemed to be helping my nerves. If I was going to have to face a room full of ministers and sentries, Tejus would still be my first choice of companion.

  The coronation was uneventful.

  I’d been guided—or manhandled, depending on your perspective—to the throne next to Tejus’s. It was hard and uncomfortable, with a tall gilded back which matched the opulence of the rest of the building. The ceremony had taken place in what reminded me of a church—joined to the castle by a long hallway I’d never seen before. Only the ministers were present, and none of the townspeople or the rest of my friends.

  “Don’t leave my side,” Tejus murmured before the ceremony began. I couldn’t help but notice how tight-lipped and pale he looked. I suspected the truth of it was that he was nervous. Instead of reassuring him again that I had no intention of “leaving his side”, I placed my hand over his for a moment. He didn’t say anything, or even look in my direction, but I noticed his muscles relaxed.