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Severin

As the four representatives take their place around the bridal crystal, Meloria’s minion shoots her a look of worry and fear. In contrast, Naomi looks at Hannah with concern and support and pride.

My previous self remained with Meloria because of her supposed strength. Hannah has shown me what true strength is: the ability to give your all for others so that you can form connections and create a community of people who care for you and support you.

Hannah flashes her friend a small smile, as if to comfort Naomi even though this trial is Hannah’s hurdle to leap. Then she turns those big, beautiful brown eyes on me, full of care and warmth and something more I can’t quite name.

But I want it to be love.

Because this strange feeling in my chest, the one I’ve never felt before? I can finally name it.

I love Hannah. I love her joy in life, her quiet strength, her determination. I love her heart, which is big enough to carry an entire town.

I step forward, ready to declare all of this, when a chime rings through the garden. The representatives have activated the bride crystal.

A scroll lands in Varyn’s outstretched hand, and he opens it with a flourish.

“The third trial is the trial of discernment. Any wishing to join the shadow fae must see through illusions and glamours. To win this trial, you must find your future husband out of all the possibilities. The successful contestant with the best time wins.”

Hour glasses appear in the air beside each of the contestants.

The representatives disappear right as a pillar of light also takes me.

There’s a dizzying moment of nothingness, then I stand in the middle of my garden, surrounded by eight other Severins, each a perfect copy.

When I try to ask what’s happening, I can’t move, can’t even twitch.

I breathe, I blink, but even those are regulated, their timing controlled.

My shadows lay dormant under my skin, my tattoos completely still.

Frustration burns in my chest, growing hotter when I discover I can’t even grind my teeth. Locked in place like this, I can’t do a damned thing to aid Hannah.

“To win this trial, you must find the true Severin.” Varyn gestures towards all of the Severins in the garden.

“You can eliminate any of the Severins by pointing at them and saying, ‘No.’ But be warned.

To lay hands on one of them is to make your choice, so do not touch until you make your final pick .

“As winner of the first trial, Elowen will go first.”

Her hour glass tips over as the wood nymph raises both arms and sings, a wild song of wind and storm-tossed branches.

The trees on the right side of the garden respond, each shedding a fraction of their leaves, which the already-present breeze sweeps across the center of the garden.

Leaves tap against me and fall to the ground, as they do with four of the other Severins, who must be the glamoured representatives.

Yet leaves fly straight through the remaining copies of me, showing them to be illusions.

Elowen points to the illusionary Severins, saying no each time, and they disappear, leaving her with only five to pick from. She walks past each of us, studying us closely. When she gets to me, she peers into my eyes, but there’s no spark of recognition in hers, and she continues on.

She says no again, and a glamour pops, exposing the wood nymph representative. Another no, and Naomi appears. Then Elowen stops in front of one of the other Severin’s and presses a finger to his shoulder. In a flash of light, the gnome representative appears.

“I’m sorry, but you’ve lost this trial,” Varyn says.

With a chime, I’m swept up in a column of light, which clears to show all nine Severins back in place, with me located in a new position.

The bridal crystal is going to scramble us each time to keep the trial fair, so nothing the previous contestants learned about the various Severins will pertain to the next person’s attempt.

“As winner of the second trial, Ruby will go next.”

Right as her hour glass flips over, the gnome drops to her hands and knees and presses her palms to the ground. A deep, booming song pours from her tiny throat, showing the power of her magic. It ripples outward through the earth and echoes back to her.

I can feel the magic moving but can’t interpret its meaning.

Ruby, however, leaps to her feet and points to four of the Severins, saying “no” each time. Then she trots toward another and points. “You’re too light. You’re a no.”

The glamour disappears, and that copy of me turns into the gnome representative.

Ah, Ruby uses feedback from the ground to feel the weight of each of us—or in the case of the illusions, the lack thereof. Clever.

She dismisses Naomi and the wood nymph representative in the same manner, then stands, caught between me and the other shadow fae. We are both six-and-a-half feet tall, both well muscled. I’m not certain there’s a discernable difference in our weights.

Ruby steps up to the closest Severin and pats his knee, and Meloria’s representative appears.

“I’m sorry, but you’ve lost this trial,” Varyn says.

The world turns white as the ancient magic picks me up again to deposit me in a new position.

Without waiting for Varyn to give her permission, Meloria steps forward, her hour glass turning over.

Her shadows whip from her skin, picking up clumps of Elowen’s dropped leaves and flinging them at each Severin.

Each time they pass through one of the illusions, Meloria dismisses that fake copy of me with a “no.”

Once she’s down to the five of us, she tries the tactic again, throwing the leaves straight at each of our faces. But the glamours hold, exactly as a good glamour should. Even though Naomi and the gnome are far too short to have any solid mass where my face is, the leaves still bounce off.

Meloria scowls and prowls around each of us. Then she shrugs as if she’s made a decision. Her shadows spool out of her, wrapping around each of the Severins’ necks. Since none of the glamours disappear, it seems Meloria gambled correctly—her shadows do not count as a touch.

Smug pleasure twists her lips, and she squeezes her hands.

The band wrapped around my neck tightens, as do all the rest. Three of us, myself included, immediately have enough trouble breathing that we start to wheeze. Meloria points to the two who are unaffected and says, “No.” Naomi and the gnome representative appear.

Meloria turns back to the three of us still in the game. Her hands clench again. The cord around my neck clamps down, cutting off all air. One of the other Severins collapses, and Meloria dismisses them with a “no” that reveals the wood nymph representative.

It’s me and Meloria’s lap dog left. What should I do? If I collapse immediately, will she think I’m him trying to help her win? In point of fact, why hasn’t he given up already?

I try to fall, but the bridal stone’s magic won’t let me move, which means I’ll have to actually pass out to fall down. Dammit, I so wanted to fool her. I remain standing, even as my lungs burn and the edges of my vision start to go black.

The other Severin collapses, and Meloria leaps toward me, her hand smacking into my chest at the same second she releases her shadow noose from my neck.

Horror shivers ice down my spine. Goddess, no. It can’t be true!

But it is.

Triumph blazing from her eyes, Meloria smirks at me. “I win.”