Page 103 of Trial of Thorns
But if that were true... why not kill me when she had the chance? When it was clearly in her best interest. I saw the pain in her eyes in that moment. I remember clearly the panic on her face when Drake handed her the dagger. An obsidian dagger just like the one she’d killed my brother with. Just like the one I killed her with during the orb of terrors trial. I saw the moment determination hit her eyes and knew she would turn against them before they did.
But why? Why not kill me when it could give her all the things she wants? She could still try to win the trials, and if she lost she’d have one hell of a consolation prize—a pardon.
Now what does she have? All or nothing on winning these trials.
Killing her, I realize, is going to become harder and harder the more time I spend with her. But I am certain of one thing—I will never forgive her. Banishment is a forgiving punishment, and I wouldn’t ever dream of giving her anything less.
Just the thought that my father would consider pardoning her is a bigger punch in the gut than the thought that he wants me dead. Which is really sad when I think about it.
I’ve always known he hated me. He doesn’t think I am good enough.
He’s probably the biggest reason I wasn’t named heir already. If I win these trials and retrieve the cure, the queen will have basically no choice but to choose me. There would be riots in my court—if not elsewhere—if she were to spurn me again.
My father may hate me but my people don’t.
I’m so lost in my own thoughts that I almost don’t notice Caelynn coming to a stop up ahead, and I halt just inches from ramming into her.
My chest is so close to her back, I can feel her warmth. I can hear her rapid breathing. I freeze, every muscle tense, afraid to move.
Not wanting to move.
My breath is heavy, and I can see her silver hair dancing against it. Caelynn doesn’t move, though the skin on the back of her neck grows goosebumps.
I look past her, at the sparkling black arch—a hundred times the size of the portal we passed to get here. She takes a step forward, saving me from my awkward closeness. Her steps are slow and measured, her eyes cast up to the onyx stone surrounding her.
“Have you seen it before?” I ask.
“Many times,” she says, her voice soft as velvet. I swallow.
I blink and break my intense stare at her emotional reaction to the Black Gate and visually search for something out of the ordinary. At the foot of the right arch column there is a bright red stone. I approach until I’m close enough to notice a message written along the top.
“Here,” I say to the others. The message is simple. “Pass through the gates. Find the caves. Answer your riddle.”
“Riddle?” Tyadin says. “I hate riddles.”
“It says your riddle, not the riddle,” Caelynn says, her voice back to normal, her spell broken. “Do we each have our own?”
I shrug. “I guess we’ll find out. Do you know of a nearby cave?” I ask her. We could spend an hour searching, assuming it’s within a mile of here, but it would save precious time if we could find it quickly.
“Possibly. But the exact path...” She pauses, her golden eyes growing dimmer, then flickering back. “Well, my memories are a bit hazy.”
“I can help,” Ty chimes in. “Do you know the general direction?”
Caelynn nods and points past the massive black stone arches. The air between shimmers like a mirage.
I shiver because passing through the Black Gates looks simple, but I know better. Much like the Ruby Well, it’s legendary. It’s a Shadow Court rite of passage for adolescent fae. Had Caelynn been old enough to complete the ritual before she became a convicted murderer?
She stares at the arch, face blank but eyes wide, full of more emotion than I’ve seen from her. “What should we expect?” I ask her.
She pulls in a deep breath and shrugs. “I’ve never passed it before.”
Tyadin’s mouth falls open. “How? Why?”
“I was banished a few months before my ritual.”
I swallow, turning away from the tears in her eyes, from the way my stomach aches. From the desire to comfort her. What the hell is up with that?Mortal enemy, remember?I tell myself. She deserves this pain.
“I was told you’d be shown your future,” Ty says, also looking away from her.
