Page 5 of Trial of Thorns
And yet he was killed by a fae who stands before us openly weak and powerless. How?
I shake my head. It doesn’t matter. Though her dim eyes leave me with uncomfortable questions, it also tells me what I need to know.
She can’t win.
She’ll be easy to beat. Easy to kill.
The blond betrayer marches down the aisle, her eyes straight ahead, face determined. Emotionless. Her body is high fae—skin glistening, nails sharp, eyes gleaming. Her clothing, though, is human. Raggedy skinny jeans, her feet adorned with plain black boots and a black T-shirt with some symbol I don’t recognize. Plain. Harsh. Ugly.
I curl my lip, not taking my eyes off of my sworn enemy. She does not even glance towards us. It makes me hate her even more.
A snowy owl soars through the open hall and its squawking covers the silence in the room. “What is she doing here?” my mother whispers.
“She’s been invited to the trials,” my father says calmly, though he still stands, watching her intently as she finds her place at the Shadow Court table. “I didn’t think she’d have the gall to actually show up.”
I clench my jaw. “I can’t believe they would have thegallto invite her,” I say. “Or the other High Lords to allow it.”
“She is their champion?” my mother asks, her voice a mere whisper.
If I could kill this betrayer from here, I would. In fact, what would be the punishment? Banishment to the human world like she got for murdering a High Court heir?Worth it.
Whispers sound through the hall. Some of the most infamous fae in modern history have piled into this room, and yet it’s her that holds the attention. Her, because she’s the root of a feud. She’s no one. Meaningless. Except that my family has sworn to kill her.
And I fully intend to fulfill that vow.
***
“SILENCE!” WE ALL TURNto face the source of the booming voice at the podium in the front of the room. The queen of all fae stands, facing every important faery in the world. Fae of every kind, from every court, have packed into the Flicker Court estate to witness these historic games.
The queen’s auburn hair glimmers as she scans the room. Her face is harsh, sharp cheek bones and sunken eyes. Not a wrinkle in sight, but there are other signs of age. She was over one hundred when she was chosen as High Court Queen. Her hundred years of ruling is nearly passed. She’s not anywhere near to death, but her energy runs low. Her retirement will be well met, I assume. Ten more years and still no new heir has been chosen.
“Tomorrow, we will begin the first Trial of Thorns in one thousand years,” she announces. The room cheers. This is quite a historic event, indeed.
The Trial of Thorns is legendary. No one alive has witnessed one.
Every one hundred years we choose a new ruler of the High Court—that is about the only thing that remains the same today. How we chose our rulers was quite different a millennia ago.
In the past, all twelve original courts would compete, sending their most elite young people. The winner would become the next high ruler.
This barbaric ritual not only resulted in killing off some of the strongest fae, it often resulted in a very violent king or queen. One who lusted for power and had been willing to rip and steal their way to the top.
Things have changed significantly in the last few thousand years. The courts have changed, and the way we choose our ruler is entirely different—more civilized.
After many wars and splits and betrayals, there are now fifteen courts, instead of twelve, but only eight of those are “ruling” courts. The others are lesser. Weaker. The High Court ruler still changes every hundred years, but they are chosen politically and only from the eight strongest courts.
“Instead of choosing a ruler, we will be choosing a hero. A savior of our entire realm.”
I clench my teeth. It doesn’t matter what the queen tells us, because she still has not chosen a replacement heir—those of the lesser courts think this is their chance to reclaim their power. They think if a lesser court wins, they’ll stand a chance at having a High Court ruler again.
“Our champions have been chosen and will compete to become the savior of our world. Most of you have witnessed the plague known as the scourge. Our forests are decaying, our precious children dying, our cities crumbling.”
Much of our infrastructure is based on magic, so not only are fae dying but our very way of life—clean water and crops, transportation and communication—has dissolved where the scourge has hit.
“As the scourge grows, so shrinks our hope to outlive it. But today, I am here to tell you that there is a cure.”
The room breaks into applause.
“The High Court, the council, and every ruling court has spent the last several years seeking a way to save our world, our people. We have found the source and learned how to stop it.”
