Page 61 of Of Stars and Lightning (Sun and Shadows #1)

Forty Five

THE FINAL DUEL

IT HAD BECOME natural for Sol not to sleep.

She spent the whole night sick to her stomach, opening the windows to feel the breeze, and then wondering if a fall from so high would kill her.

She constantly glanced at Cas's own open window stories below, stupidly wishing he would be looking for her too. He’d chosen a room on the third floor, which had been disappointing.

Not that she wanted him in her room, but the one next to hers would have been nice.

Keep telling yourself that.

The hope that he would come find her lingered all night, keeping her awake more than the brewing anxiety.

But he didn’t. Not through his window or her door, not even a single Shadow all night.

When the birds began to chirp outside, signaling the imminent sunrise, Sol went from being sad he hadn’t sought her out to pissed.

It could be their last day on Erriadin, and the man still wouldn’t make a move. He had been so sweet, only to leave her with a thirst she had never had the discomfort of feeling before. Sol might be naive and inexperienced when it came to magic and politics, but she knew when someone liked her.

She decided to go in a more tactical outfit for the day, a pair of leather breeches and a flowy white blouse bound tightly by a black chest cover and waist belt to hold her knives. Hopefully, she wouldn't need them.

She was lacing up her boots when a soft knock sounded at her door, making her heart stammer. Cas waited a few seconds before easing the door open.

He wore his usual outfit, an all-black tactical suit with a purple chest band holding his sword to his back. Leaning on the doorframe, his gaze roved her over. “Rimemere fashion suits you, Princess.”

She continued working the ends of her lace but spared him a slight side smile. “It’s grown on me, I guess.”

They spent the remaining time before sunrise in the kitchen, eating leftover berries, but Sol couldn’t stomach much of anything. They made small conversation—nothing as vulnerable as the night before.

That’s how she could tell he was nervous.

The carriage was just as somber. For thirty minutes she watched the forest pass, the little animals zoom in and out of the road, and the grass swaying with the lazy, late-spring breeze.

Sol couldn’t help the flicker of joy she felt when the Rimemere castle finally came into view.

Even from a distance, it was obvious crowds had gathered around the courtyards.

“What is the final duel?” Sol asked. “Like a fight?”

Cas also peered out the window from his spot in front of her. “It changes every time.”

They bypassed the castle completely, passing by a large, sinister graveyard before disappearing back into the cover of the forest.

Sol fidgeted with her braid. “Do you know where it is?”

He exhaled from his nose. “The Colosseum.”

The first sign the day wouldn’t end well was that Fin awaited them by the Colosseum gates.

The building itself seemed to be made out of a mixture of clay, mud, and stone, giving it a rusted color.

The ground beneath them morphed from grass to dirt the closer they got.

Past the entrance was a narrow hallway that led to a larger opening, which Sol figured was an arena of sorts, based on the circular ground.

As they emerged, there were two additional hallways on either side of them.

“Princess to the left,” Fin said with a wave of his hand. “Other one to the right.”

Sol tried meeting Cas’s gaze one final time, but he was dragged the opposite way before she could.

Two kingsmen grabbed her by the arms, dragging her down the corridor, tightening their hold when she tried to wiggle out of it. The last thing she saw as she looked over her shoulder was Fin placing shackles on Cas before they rounded the corner into the depths of the cave.

Sol managed to free herself. “I can walk.” After five minutes of walking, they had reached a small cell. There was nothing within it, and the far wall was solid metal. It vibrated with the sounds from its other side.

“You wait here. The wall will open when it's time.” The kingsman motioned her forward.

Sol glared at them, crossing her arms. “I demand to see Cas.” They laughed. “Oh, you will, Princess,” one of them drawled. “You will see him plenty out there.”

When she made no motion to enter the cell, one of the men pushed her in. Sol yelled after them, but they faded into the darkness of the underground area without so much as a glance back. Chants reverberated across the roof of the cell, giving away just how large the crowd gathered above her was.

Yarrow. Yarrow. Yarrow.

Xanthos. Xanthos. Xanthos.

Sol clamped her jaw shut, sinking to the cell’s muddy ground. The only reprieve from her emotional torment was the fact this was the end.

After this, she would Awaken her magic, then take the throne before bracing the gods-awful note her mother had left her.

Breathe.

Breathe.

She traced the dirt with her fingertips, drawing a star then crossing it out. Sol wouldn’t fight him. She couldn’t. There had to be a way—something besides one of them dying. A way to get them both out of this.

Come, dove.

Sol inhaled. “Lora?”

Let me show you, dove. Come.

It was the third time the echo of her voice rang through her, and each time something happened.

Fuck it.

“Fine,” Sol said, utterly defeated. “Show me.”

The shift of scenery knocked the air from her lungs.

One moment, Sol sat in the cell, then she was falling into nothing and everything all at once.

It was like home. There were small shops with straw roofs and roads made of soft dirt and cobblestone, even the smell of sweet jam from the bakeries was the same.

As Sol stepped forward, though, she realized it only looked like Yavenharrow on the surface, but the liveliness and life her town had was absent. Abducted.

The mirage was wholly silent. Only the stray leaves crunched beneath Sol’s bare feet.

She continued down the main road, looking for any signs of souls, of anyone other than her through the otherworldly mist.

But there was no one.

“Sol.”

Sol turned. “Aunt Lora?”

Lora smiled softly. “Hi, dove.”

Around her, the town echoed their voices, then Sol’s steps as she trudged closer. “What is this? Where are we?”

“Somewhere in-between,” Lora said, folding her legs beneath her and plopping onto the ground. “Come. Sit. You called me.” As Sol stopped in front of her aunt and bent to sit, she froze.

Lora’s skin was hollow and dull, her sandy hair knotted and thin. Just as Sol was about to ask about it, her attention landed on her aunt’s eyes.

Her pupils overtook them, then red veins and bruises around her cheeks. Lora smiled faintly. “It’s been a bit rough over here, I’m afraid.”

“What’s happened to you?” Sol’s voice shook. “Lora, what is it?”

“We have no time to catch up right now, dear.” She blinked, a small twitch pulling at her jaw. “You asked for me.”

It took some moments to gather her thoughts, to truly bring herself back from wherever she was. “I—Cas.” His name burst from within her. “Oh gods, Aunt Lora. The Trials. The Coronation Vows. I—my uncle made me do them, and I joined them, but Cas killed someone, so he had to join too—”

Her aunt laughed. “Ah, Semmena hasn’t changed a single bit. I miss the man sometimes, if only to laugh when he didn’t get his way.”

“Lora, I have to get me and Cas out of the final Trial. Semmena is making us fight to the death.”

“Casimir will not hurt you, dove.”

Sol nodded, picking at her nails. “I know. And I will not hurt him. There has to be another way—I heard my mother somehow had Draven and Semmena survive.”

Lora watched her, her onyx eyes narrowing. “Using that loophole will require sacrifice from the both of you.”

“Tell me. Tell me what to do, Lora, please.” Sol nearly fell forward to her knees in a plea. “Please.”

“After Irene’s Vows, everyone called her on the loophole. Why do you think we had to leave? The foul play was obvious. Your mother did it for Mel and destroyed her credibility in the process.”

Sol felt the time running out. The air began to freeze, her skin shivering and tingling as if she was waking from a dream. “I’ll take the risk.”

Her aunt watched her for a long moment before sighing, “Rule and Law 5.4 from Stone Ledge states if the final prospects are both on the brink of death, the match gets called a draw.”

Sol blinked. “And how do I do that?”

“Our blood bond.” Lora stood. “It acts as a siphon. You can draw my magic in short bursts—Call out the law to Semmena and I will do the rest.”

Sol could see her breath pooled in clouds by her face. “Magic?”

“Void—Dark Magic. Blood bonds are Dark Magic.”

Lora gestured for Sol to stand, then grabbed her shoulder. Her aunt’s touch was cold. Almost foreign. It made Sol flinch slightly. “You’ve been helping me during the Trials?”

“Slightly. Although, I promised I wouldn’t. I couldn’t just feel you suffer.”

“Is that... safe?”

Lora’s eyes seemed distant, as if she looked past Sol and not at her. “I will be fine.”

“But—Lora.”

With a smile too reminiscent of the creatures of nightmares, Lora whispered, “Good luck.”

Sol barely had time to gather her wits as her soul, or mind, or whatever that was, returned to herself. She lay on the dusty cell floor, then quickly turned away from the wall as it pulled open, the brightness a jarring contrast from the dimness.

She stood on shaky feet.

Dust and debris swirled around as she stepped into the arena, the sun bright and blazing heavily compared to the usual cover of clouds from the east side of Rimemere.