Page 83 of Empire of Flame and Thorns

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.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

The 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 forDraven 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.

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