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

Chapter 27

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

T he dining room is now so empty that the clinking of our utensils echoes between the pale stone walls. I glance around the room while I eat my dinner in silence. There are only ten of us left, and everyone is sitting at their own table. The tension in the air is so thick that I could have cut it with my knife.

“Wow,” Fenriel suddenly exclaims as he sits down after getting his food. “You’d think that we’re all waiting for our execution tomorrow. Not the start of the final trial.”

Several people jerk their heads up and twist around to glance at him. I do too. His plate and utensils produce a soft thud as he sets them down on the pale wooden table in front of him. Light from the torches along the walls casts dancing shadows over his red hair and makes his eyes glitter as he raises his eyebrows and looks around at all of us.

“Come on, people.” He flashes us all what appears to be an entirely genuine smile. “We made it to the final round. We’re the best of the best. We should be celebrating.”

His excitement is infectious, and smiles tug at several people’s lips. Despite myself, I smile too.

Ever since I passed the third trial two days ago, I’ve just been waiting for the other shoe to drop. For Alistair to attack me or for Draven to try to lock me up or for the Icehearts to just randomly decide that I don’t qualify for the final trial after all. Everyone else put on great displays of magic in order to get their wooden coins. Some even had to fight Alistair for them. But because my magic isn’t as flashy or noticeable, it looked to everyone else as if I just walked up and asked the volunteer and then was given it without any real effort.

Back then, I could feel Jessina and Bane watching me through narrowed eyes, full of cold calculation. And I was so sure that they were simply going to declare me unworthy and take away my win. But thankfully, that hasn’t happened. Not yet, at least.

But the final trial starts tomorrow morning, and I’m still here, so I allow myself a small breath of relief and smile at Fenriel’s excitement.

He leans back in his chair and stretches his legs out underneath the table. My heart aches with jealousy at how carefree he looks. I don’t think I’ve ever felt that at ease in my entire life.

“What would you do?” Fenriel asks, and looks around at all of us. “With your freedom, I mean. If you win the Atonement Trials tomorrow, what are you planning to do with your freedom?”

A few people exchange startled looks. We’ve never shared personal details with each other before. After all, in here, we’re all rivals.

I glance around at the people in the room with me. Isera is sitting at a table by the wall, eating her food as if she’s the only person in the room. As usual, her face is an impassive mask, and she hasn’t looked up even once since Fenriel started talking.

Alistair is sitting at his table in the middle, which is now empty except for him since all of his friends have already been eliminated. He has paused with his glass halfway to his lips and is watching Fenriel with orange and green eyes that are full of suspicion.

A short distance from him, Lavendera is sitting at her own table. The plate of food before her is completely untouched, and she’s absentmindedly tracing patterns on the pale wooden tabletop with her finger. Her eyes are fixed on the white stone wall across the room as she stares at something that only she can see.

“I would open up a bakery.”

We all start in surprise and turn towards the source of the voice.

Trevor, the blond guy with stone magic, blushes a little when he notices our surprised looks. But then he clears his throat and shrugs before elaborating. “I’d find a nice human town, without any dragon shifters, and open up a bakery. I would bake all of those incredible pastries that I’ve only read about in books.” A broad grin spreads across his face. “And then I’d eat them all.”

Soft laughter ripples through the room.

“I mean, I’d sell them too,” he adds with a smile. “Eventually. But first, I’d just eat them.”

Fenriel excitedly slaps the tabletop with his palm and then points towards Trevor. “See? That, right there, is a true life goal!”

Another round of chuckles spreads through the room.

The tension that used to vibrate in the air evaporates almost immediately, and it’s suddenly much easier to breathe.

I eat some more of my food while someone calls from across the room, “What about you then, Fenriel? What would you do?”

Fenriel lets out a satisfied sigh and leans back in his chair again. “I would set out on an adventure.” Another grin spreads across his mouth as he crosses his ankles and reaches up to rest his hands behind his head, the very image of relaxed comfort. His face takes on a dreamy expression as he gazes up at the ceiling. “I want to travel the world. Wander through the great forests. Climb the Peaks of Prosperity. Explore the land all the way to the Western Sea.” He shifts his gaze back down to us and flashes us another smile. “With Talon, of course. He would love to soar freely too.”

Unexpected warmth spreads through my chest, and I find myself smiling too. That does sound like a wonderful dream.

Sitting up straight, he turns towards Isera, who is still eating her food without bothering to look up.

“What about you, Isera?” he asks, trying to bring her into the conversation too. “What would you do?”

At long last, she looks up from her food.

Silence descends over the dining room as she meets Fenriel’s gaze. Her eyes betray nothing. No hint of emotion. As usual, her entire expression is just a blank mask.

I get the overwhelming urge to reach out with my magic and push at different emotions, just to figure out what she’s really feeling. But I don’t do it. I never use my powers on people without their permission if I can help it. And Isera trusts me for some reason, or at least she did back in that tunnel, so I don’t want to do anything to ruin that.

Everyone holds their breath as they wait for her to reply.

She just looks back at us.

And then goes back to eating.

A sigh of disappointment escapes several throats.

“You would try to find your mother, wouldn’t you?”

Isera jerks her head up. Shock and alarm flash across her face like bolts of lightning. It’s the strongest emotions I have ever seen on her face, and the sight of it stuns me so much that I sit back in my chair.

“What did you just say?” she demands. Her grip tightens around her knife, and for a moment, I think she might be getting ready to summon her magic too.

Kevlin, the person who made that shocking statement, just looks back at her with a steady gaze. “I said that you would most likely try to find your mother. Wouldn’t you? Your father was killed by a shifter patrol when you were only two years old, so your mother is all you have. But she was one of the three winners of the last Atonement Trials,” he motions vaguely at the world around us, “so she’s out there somewhere.”

My mouth drops open in surprise.

Clothes rustle as we all turn to stare at Isera.

She is gripping her knife and fork so hard that I’m surprised the metal hasn’t started to bend. A muscle flickers in her jaw as she grinds her teeth before forcing out, “How did you know that?”

“I competed in the last Atonement Trials too, remember? I knew your mother. We were friendly. Or at least until she beat me in the final trial and took the last spot as the third winner.”

Isera’s chest rises and falls with uncontrolled breaths, but she says nothing. Without reading her emotions, I can’t tell if she’s angry or hurt or maybe panicked. Eventually, she forces out a long breath and relaxes her grip on the utensils.

“Yes,” she says at last. “If I win, I would try to find my mother.” Pain flickers in her silver and blue eyes for a second. “She said that she was going to come back for me and take me with her. She never did.” She works her jaw. “I was ten.” Bitterness crawls into her tone as she adds, “I don’t need her. I raised myself. But yes, if I win, I would track her down and confront her lying ass about why she broke her promise.”

My heart aches as I watch her.

Silence hangs over the dining room. It’s so loud that I almost hear it ringing in my ears. I know that we’ve all had a shitty life in different ways. After all, there is not much happiness to be found in a conquered court. But Goddess above, has Isera really been on her own since she was ten?

“Satisfied?” Isera demands, her voice suddenly as sharp as her ice magic, when she realizes that we’re all staring at her. “You wanted an answer. Now you have it.”

Then she snatches up her knife and fork and promptly goes back to eating while ignoring the rest of the room.

Fenriel clears his throat. Loudly. And a tad awkwardly. He casts his gaze around the room, seemingly looking for some inspiration on how to smoothly change the topic. Apparently, he doesn’t find it, because he just ends up blurting out, “What about you, Lavendera? What would your life look like if you won?”

For a few seconds, Lavendera just continues staring at the wall. Then she blinks, gives her head a short shake, and shifts her gaze to Fenriel. He watches her with hopeful eyes.

“It would probably be filled with lots of pain,” she announces.

And then she goes back to staring at the wall.

Fenriel lets out a groan from the back of his throat and rubs his forehead while the rest of us stare at the incredibly beautiful but very strange fae woman. Lavendera just continues watching the pale stones for things we can’t see.

“I would settle down in a nice cottage in the woods,” someone calls from my left.

“There!” Fenriel exclaims, and sits forward excitedly while pointing towards the guy who said it. “That’s another great life goal, right there.”

Laughter sweeps through the room, and the tension that had begun to settle again evaporates once more.

I continue eating and drinking while several other contestants share their dreams for what they would do if they won. When Fenriel asks me, I just make up a generic dream since I can’t very well announce publicly that I’m planning to kickstart the fae resistance.

Torchlight glitters in Fenriel’s eyes as he lifts his glass.

“Well then,” he begins. “Cheers to great life goals!”

“Cheers!” most of us reply.

Only Isera, Alistair, and Lavendera don’t join in.

The rest of us empty our glasses.

While setting down his now empty glass, Fenriel turns towards Alistair and gives him a mischievous grin. “You didn’t poison this one, did you?”

Alistair blinks in surprise, looking genuinely stunned.

Fenriel just grins wider while amusement sparkles in his eyes. “Too soon?”

For the briefest of moments, the ghost of a smile steals across Alistair’s lips. I stare at him in shock. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him smile at a joke before. At least not a joke that wasn’t somehow cruel. But he looks genuinely amused by Fenriel’s playful jab.

“Hey, you never told us what you would do if you won,” Trevor calls.

That fraction of a smile vanishes from Alistair’s face in a flash. A ruthless expression slams back down over his features as he cuts a scathing glare at Trevor. “Why would I ever tell you lot anything? All you need to know about me is that I’m going to win tomorrow. And if any of you dare to stand in my way, I will fucking kill you.”

Shoving to his feet, he kicks his chair out of the way and then stalks out of the dining room without another word.

I watch his retreating back while a sense of loss spreads through my chest.

All throughout the dining room, that tense atmosphere returns with a vengeance. Everyone glances around, their eyes now full of suspicion again, as we’re all reminded of the merciless fact that there can only be three winners. We’re not a team. We’re not friends. We’re contestants fighting for the same chance to make our own dreams come true. At the expense of everyone else’s.

We might all hate the dragon shifters together, but we are still in this tournament alone.

I heave a sigh.

Enemies by necessity.