Empire of Flame and Thorns (Flame and Thorns #1)

Chapter 26

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

T o say that Draven is looking murderous would be the understatement of the decade. The flames in his eyes could have set a medium-sized ice palace on fire. He flexes his hand, and a muscle flickers in his jaw, as he glares at me from across the large gathering hall.

I blow him a kiss.

Lightning flashes across his face. And if it weren’t for the fact that his precious Iceheart monarchs were seated not three strides away from him, I’m pretty sure that he would have stormed across the room and killed me on the spot.

“Uhm…” Fenriel begins from next to me. His blue and gold eyes flick between me and Draven. “What’s that all about?”

“Oh he’s just angry that I managed to recover in time for the trial,” I reply with a light shrug.

It’s a lie. But a fairly innocent one. The other contestants don’t know that Draven has kept me locked up in his room these past three days. Or that he had the leader of the Orange Dragon Clan heal me after the attack. They all think that I’ve spent the past three days in an infirmary or something, slowly healing from my wounds. And I haven’t corrected them because… well, because it’s too complicated to try to explain everything that has been happening between me and Draven. So after I escaped, I just returned to my own room as if nothing had happened.

“Huh,” Fenriel replies. “And he tried to put a target on your back during the commencement ball too.” A contemplative look blows across his narrow face as he pushes a few long red strands of hair back behind his pointed ear. “What even is the deal with you two?”

Before I can try to figure out how to reply to that, Imar strides through the door and into the large gathering hall. A ripple goes through the remaining contestants who crowd the floor around me.

“Welcome to the third trial,” Imar says as he comes to a halt in front of us and clasps his hands behind his back. “Today, we will weed out the last dregs of unworthy ingrates before the fourth and final trial.”

Anger flickers through me, and I can barely stop myself from scowling at the trial administrator. Unworthy ingrates? We have nothing to be grateful for. And we are already worthy. I clench my fist. By Mabona, as soon as I win these trials, I’m going to make sure that people like him never set foot in our court again.

“Today,” Imar continues, “you will face twenty-four opponents.”

We all glance around at each other, assuming that he’s talking about us. But to my surprise, Imar sweeps his arm out and points towards the door.

Another shifter from the Red Dragon Clan pushes the two double doors open.

Surprise ripples through our group when people from our city stumble in through the doors. An anxious murmur starts up. Both from them and from several of us. I study the fae men and women who shuffle nervously across the floor and spread out across the room.

Imar motions towards them. “These are the people from your city who have volunteered to help out in today’s trial.”

I barely manage to suppress a scoff. Volunteered? More like volun told .

“There are twenty-four of them,” Imar continues. “Just like you.” Then he pauses for dramatic effect as he sweeps his gaze over us. “Ten of them are carrying a small wooden coin somewhere on their person. They will not hand them over willingly, so your mission is to acquire one.” A wicked smile tugs at his lips. “By any means necessary.”

Several of the volunteers swallow and anxiously shift their weight while casting worried glances between us and Imar.

“There are only ten coins,” Imar announces. “And without a coin, you won’t move on to the final trial. Other than that, there are no rules.” He flicks his wrist. “Begin.”

My heart leaps into my throat at the sudden start.

All around me, people lurch into motion and scramble to catch up as well.

I remain frozen on the floor as indecision tears through my soul.

Isera’s words from the last trial echo through my mind. Why don’t you use your magic against everyone else?

I could . I could use my powers to mess with everyone’s emotions. This is the perfect kind of trial for that. Everyone is in the same room, and I can stand on the sidelines without being attacked. This is the perfect opportunity for me to sabotage all the other contestants. The perfect opportunity to make them too frustrated or too worried or too uncertain to finish the task. The perfect opportunity to make everyone else fail.

Nausea rolls through my stomach. Am I really that kind of person? Am I really someone who would sabotage people who have done nothing to me?

My gaze drifts to Fenriel, who has summoned his hawk and is apparently waiting for the bird to scout the room from above. Even though we’re in a stressful trial, there is a smile on his face as he watches his hawk soar through the air.

I drag in a breath while pain squeezes my heart. Could I really sabotage someone like Fenriel? Or Isera, who I consider something of an ally now? Or Lavendera, who protected me against Alistair back in that corridor after the first trial?

Indecision whirls through me like a violent storm.

A scream of fear cuts through the room.

I whip my gaze towards it.

Halfway across the room, Alistair has just shot a torrent of fire at one of the volunteers. The guy threw himself on the ground to evade the flames and is now pushing up to his knees. I watch as he holds out a trembling hand to Alistair. A wooden coin wobbles in his palm. Alistair picks it up.

And then starts towards the next volunteer.

Panic washes through the room as everyone realizes something Imar alluded to. There are only ten coins, and without one, you can’t move on to the final trial. But he never said that each person could only collect one coin. So if Alistair gets three of them, there will only be eight people in the final trial. And if he gets five, there would only be six people.

The room explodes into frantic movement as everyone else hurries towards the other volunteers to see if one of them has a coin while also fighting each other for it.

For a moment, I just study Alistair.

Then my mind settles.

I am not like him.

I want to win. Desperately. But I don’t have to sabotage other people to do it. I don’t have to play the game the way Alistair plays it. I can’t. Because I still care too much about what other people think. Still care whether they like me or not.

But that doesn’t mean that I can’t win. I don’t need to be cruel to win. I just need to be smart.

Lurching into motion, I channel my magic and throw it across every volunteer in the room.

Almost all of them have a purple spark of worry in their souls. Since I can’t just sense emotions without manipulating them, I decrease those sparks of worry ever so slightly while I scan through them all until I find the ten people who have the biggest sparks.

The ones who are carrying one of those coins know that they need to resist if we try to take one. If they don’t, the dragon shifters will no doubt punish them. But if they resist too much, we might hurt them. Which means that the people with the coins will feel the most worry.

A fae woman with curly red hair a little to my left has a spark of worry the size of her entire chest. I cut off my magic and start towards her. One of the other contestants is already there. It’s Trevor, the guy with stone powers. He raises a block of stone that he looks to be threatening her with. She takes a step back while shaking her head, no doubt trying to convince him that she doesn’t have a coin.

I call up my magic again and shove it straight at Trevor.

Just as I had hoped, I find a cerise spark of impatience in his chest. While continuing to walk towards them, I pour a flood of magic into that spark.

Trevor curses and slams his block of stone down into the floor. Then he spins on his heel and hurries over to another volunteer.

I reach the woman two seconds later.

Dread washes over her features when she sees me. But I think it has more to do with the fact that I’m another contestant rather than any fear of me specifically.

“I don’t have a coin,” she presses out right as I come to a halt in front of her.

My eyes begin to glow as I summon my magic again while I reply, “I can read people’s emotions, so I know that you do in fact have one of the coins.”

Alarm flits across her face, and she swallows but doesn’t say anything.

“And I know that you don’t want to be standing here holding one,” I push while I continue to work my magic on her. “It makes you a target. But as soon as people see you hand over a coin to someone else, they will leave you alone.”

My magic pours into the spark in her chest. Into that cream-colored spark of logic.

“I’m asking nicely.” I give her a pointed look. “The next person won’t.”

She bites her lip, her gaze flicking around the room. She knows that I’m right. About all of it. She doesn’t want to be standing here. She just wants this to be over. And very few other contestants will simply ask nicely.

I manipulate her emotions until those very logical thoughts become so impossible to ignore that she sucks in a sharp breath and then nods vigorously.

All around us, the room has descended into a frenzy. Magic flash and people scream and yell in anger and fear and frustration as twenty-three contestants scramble around the room and try to convince twenty-three volunteers to hand over coins that they may or may not have.

And at the edge of it all, I stand calmly and smile as I hold my hand out to the redhead before me.

She smiles back at me, her face full of the strong relief and certainty that only clear logic can bring, as she drops a wooden coin into my open palm.

I curl my fingers around it while victory glitters inside me.

I don’t need to ruin everyone else’s chances to win. I don’t need to be cruel or violent or threatening.

I just need to outsmart them.