Page 34 of Court of Twisted Angels

The city sprawls beneath me like a tapestry of starlight. Golden wards shimmer between buildings, ancient protection spells that have guarded our realm for centuries.

Prayer bells toll from the Temple District, their pure notes carrying on the wind. Below, zarryn hooves click against cobblestone streets as the beasts draw late-night carriages through the thoroughfares.

My family's estate rises from in front of me, once proud towers now dulled by the curse's creeping influence. Where other mansions gleam with preserved magic, ours stands like a shadow among stars. The curse seeps into the very stone, turning pristine white marble to weathered gray.

I land on the western balcony, my boots silent against the flagstones. Guards nod as I pass - fewer now than in our glorydays, but still loyal despite our fallen status. Their wings show similar signs of corruption, gray patches spreading through once-pure feathers.

The curse pulses through my blood, stronger here where it first took root. Each beat of my heart echoes with dark magic, a constant reminder of time slipping away. But now, with Kyrie's map pressed against my chest, hope wars with the guilt threatening to consume me.

My wings ache from the swift flight, the curse making even simple magic more taxing. But I push forward, through carved doors and down halls where portraits of my ancestors watch with judging eyes. Their wings, painted in pure gold and white, mock what we've become.

But I have a way to fix it all.

20

KYRIE

The flickering light from the orbs casts dancing shadows across my small room in the contestant quarters. Tomorrow marks the final trial, and my heart pounds at the thought.

I never did ask where Azrael was that day he disappeared. But he's been here every day after for the last week, helping me prepare. I haven't told him about the map, and each night he's walked me back to my room and been here until I fell asleep. I've yet to study it again, though I did so much that first day that I know I have it memorized.

Still, I finally managed to get away from him, telling him I had to go to the showers. I moved fast and slipped out the opposite entrance of where I went in so he couldn't escort me back here.

Now alone, I go to the corner of my room and shift the rock out of the way. I shift closer, sliding my hand inside - but I find nothing.

"No, no, no." I drop to my knees, trying to look inside, but it is empty

My hands shake as I tear through the room, upending the wooden chest containing my meager belongings. Tunics and training clothes scatter across the floor. The map should be here, along with the gemstone—my only advantages for tomorrow's deadly climb.

Cool night air seeps through cracks in the stone walls as I check every hiding spot. Behind loose stones, inside the legs of my rickety bed frame, within the folds of my extra blanket. Nothing.

"Think, Kyrie." I press my palm against the conduit band, drawing on its stored magic to illuminate the darkest corners. The soft blue glow reveals only dust and cobwebs.

That map was going to help me get through this trial. And the gemstone would have boosted my magic. Now they are both gone.

My bare feet pad across the cold floor as I check the window ledge one last time. Outside, the spires of New Solas pierce the night sky, their ethereal light a constant reminder of what I'm fighting for. What I need to win to save my mother.

A sound in the hallway makes me freeze. Footsteps? I press myself against the wall, listening. The steps fade away, but doubt gnaws at my gut. Someone must have taken them. Another contestant? Or worse - the xaphan themselves. Have I been caught? And that's what this is?

I slide down the wall, my fingers tracing the scar on my neck. Without those items, my chances of surviving the final trial just dropped from slim to nearly impossible.

A creak pierces the silence, and I tense as my door as it swings open, revealing Azrael's towering figure. His white wings catch the moonlight streaming through my window, but something's off in his usually stern expression.

"You gave me the slip," he murmurs, watching me warily.

His ice-blue eyes dart to the scattered contents of my room before meeting mine. There—a flicker of something I've never seen in him before. Guilt?

I launch to my feet, my conduit band humming with stored magic. It hits me, why he didn't want me alone. "It was you. You took them."

"Little bird—" He steps into my room, closing the door behind him.

"Don't." I advance on him, jabbing a finger at his chest. "The map. The gemstone. Where are they?"

His jaw tightens. "You don't understand?—"

"Then explain it to me." Magic crackles along my arm, making the candlelight flicker. "Because from where I'm standing, you just sabotaged my only chance of surviving tomorrow."

Azrael's wings shift, a telltale sign of discomfort I've learned to read over our training sessions. He reaches for me, but I step back.

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