Page 51 of Trial of Thorns
I tear my eyes from the image. Already, my heart races, my palms sweat, and my stomach twists in panic. Facing Rev and Reahgan is one thing—that beast is another.
For the first time, I doubt my ability to do this.
It’s not real, I tell myself.
Not real. Not real. Not real. Not real.
Rev’s eyes meet mine from the front of the crowd of champions, hate swirling in his gaze. I swallow down my panic and steel myself with my own shadows. I meet his gaze, steady, unmoved.
Pain ricochets from his face, and I wish I wasn’t such a good actress. What would it achieve, though? If he knew how I really felt? If he knew how much I hated myself? How much I wish I could undo what I’ve done?
Instead, I live with it and I let it become me.
That’s what this is testing right? That monster I faced—it took my soul. I took its essence, and used it to survive.
I’ve lived with this every day of my life. I’ve never cast it off or pretended to forget it. Never let praises from my own people skew my perception of it.
I know my own darkness and I wear it like a shield.
I’ll do the same today and I’ll make it out on the other side. My panic still swirls inside of me like a storm but my determination is stronger. I grasp it tightly.
The beast will be gleeful at what he’s turned me into. He’ll laugh that I ever thought I’d beaten him.
His power to crush my life and my very soul was proven to be beyond reproach. I may have physically escaped, but at the end of the day, he won.
***
WE GO IN REVERSE ORDER, the weakest courts first, then the ruling courts in their typical order.
This means Tyadin is first. I’ll go second.
I barely watch as he steps into the misty orb, magic rippling like water where he entered and then settling back into its smooth translucent gray.
Now, all we can see is Tyadin’s silhouette. First, he stands there, his shoulders back, his head high. But then he stumbles back, pressing against the orb’s glistening barrier. His chest heaves dramatically.
I can’t tell what his challenge is, but suddenly he’s holding a sword. He grips it tightly in both hands, his muscles tense. He reels it back, ready to slash through some unseen enemy. But then his muscles freeze in place and he remains like that for a full minute. My heart pounds and it’s not even my challenge.
Finally, his hands loosen their grip and the sword clangs to the ground, and he drops to his knees. The crowd oohs and ahhs, unsure. Is he failing? Or is his task inaction?
He holds his hands over his ears and screams in agony.
My teeth chatter as I watch.
He stays like that, screaming until his voice is hoarse, hands over his ears.
Then he stands, his shoulders slumped—defeated. Another moment, he walks to the other edge of the orb, which parts for him.
The crowd is silent for a long moment, then they erupt in a massive roar.
Tyadin is the first to pass the second challenge.
He doesn’t seem pleased with his success or the attention as he stumbles to the champions’ benches, his hands shaking. Tears stream down his cheeks.
“Next, Caelynn of the Shadow Court.”
Nausea sweeps through me as I step forward on shaky feet. I take in three deep breaths and stop before the orb to steel myself. There are some kinds of darkness that terrify even me, but I must embrace even the deepest. So, I allow it to sweep over everything, and my shaking calms.
The black liquid shifts to allow me in, and I enter the orb of terrors.
