Page 7

Chapter

Six

“Welcome to the Courting,” the Master of Trials intoned, his voice weaving through the thrumming crowd like a vibrant melody.

“You stand upon the threshold of an ancient and sacred tradition. This annual gathering is more than mere opportunity; it is a rare invitation, a beacon beckoning the brightest, the most ambitious, and the most deserving among our citizens. Each of you has been chosen to contend for a cherished place within the hallowed halls of one of the four courts of Azmeer—the pinnacle of honor to which one can aspire.”

Kadian’s gaze found me, his eyes begging the question as to why he had received an invitation.

But I knew Kadian deserved to be here.

“The courts are not mere seats of power or symbols of prestige; they are the sacred legacy gifted to us by the Primals themselves. In their infinite wisdom, the Primals forged these courts to uphold the delicate balance, peace, and prosperity of our realm,” he proclaimed, his voice resonating with unwavering conviction.

“Each court embodies a vital essence of this world.”

I struggled against the creeping unease that threatened to overtake me, my gaze drawn to the restless fidgeting of those surrounding me, but I anchored my focus back to him.

“Every trial you face, every challenge you conquer, is a reflection of your worthiness to uphold the legacy of the courts and the will of the Primals.”

With a commanding grace, he ascended the dais that had materialized, taking two measured steps toward its summit.

“Prepare yourselves. The path ahead is fraught with trials, yet for those who prevail, the rewards transcend measure. You are not merely competing for a place among the courts; you are vying for your legacy in the annals of history.” His voice rang out with authority as he declared, “Your first task is to solve a puzzle. The first two hundred and fifty contestants to unravel its mysteries will be granted passage into Azmeer and the chance to claim their place within one of the courts. Fail, and you will be cast aside.”

As the Master of Trials finished speaking, a hush rippled through the crowd, swallowing even the smallest murmur.

The air buzzed with anticipation so thick it seemed to settle on my skin.

My stomach twisted in knots, a tight coil of anxiety that pressed against my ribs, threatening to spill over.

A bead of sweat rolled down the back of my neck, but I forced myself to stand straighter, to keep my hands from trembling.

We were all herded into a line like cattle, and though I tried to breathe, my pulse betrayed me—too fast, too loud.

Beside me, an amber-skinned man, bald with a wide, toothy grin, turned toward me as if this was the most casual outing imaginable.

“Good luck,” he said, his voice low and warm, with a softness that clashed with the raw tension pulsing around us.

My lips curled into what might pass as a smile.

“You too.” My voice shakier than I'd hoped.

To my right, Lil caught Kadian’s eye, and the two of them exchanged a small smile, a brief flicker of warmth that cut through the mounting pressure. My chest tightened as I watched them, a wave of longing mixing with my fear. I wanted us all to make it through, but a cold voice in the back of my mind whispered that this puzzle might tear us apart. Not everyone would make it. Kadian then turned to me, bringing his forehead to mine. We took a moment to pause, to breathe, to just be. “I’m with you, Bri. Until the end.”

“Until the end,” I whispered as we pulled apart.

The Master of Trials raised his hand, and with a sweeping motion, the ground beneath us trembled. A massive maze began to rise, walls stretching high with intricate mechanisms carved into stone, shimmering runes glowing faintly between cracks. My heart slammed against my ribs. This wasn’t just a test of wit or skill. This was a gauntlet meant to devour those who weren’t fast enough, sharp enough—strong enough. I glanced toward Kadian, needing just one more look. His green eyes found mine, and he gave me the smallest nod.

A horn sounded, and we surged forward. The walls of the maze closed in around me, symbols and diagrams twisting and shifting, mocking my every step. The pressure to succeed was suffocating, the maze itself a living, breathing entity designed to confound and confuse. My chest constricted. I clenched my fists, nails digging into my palms, a small attempt to steady the shaking in my limbs.

The walls loomed in every direction, a maze of jagged stone and flickering shadows. The light here seemed wrong, casting twisted shapes that moved as if alive. I swallowed hard, my throat dry, my heart already pounding. The center of the room held the source of it all—a deep red orb shrouded in heavy, metallic armor, its surface pulsing with a sinister glow. It hovered in the air, watching, or at least it felt that way. Shadows inside the orb writhed, curling in slow, menacing spirals. The cold, almost mocking judgment it projected sent an icy wave down my back.

The ground beneath my feet shook as a colossal timepiece emerged from the floor, its hands spinning wildly. My heart leaped into my throat as huge metal rings mirroring the action of the timepiece simultaneously appeared on the back wall. My stomach clenched as I watched them, my hands shaking. They moved too fast, out of sync, spinning in chaotic, unpredictable patterns.

Sweat poured down my brow, stinging my eyes as I squinted at the spinning rings. The timepiece before me seemed to tick louder with each second, its mechanical hands moving in strange, erratic motions as if mocking my confusion. I blinked, trying to steady my breathing, but my chest felt too tight, my thoughts too scattered to focus.

Making my way to the wall, the rings spun in all directions—some slow, others faster than I could track. They blurred together, shifting constantly, as if alive with their own chaotic energy. My head ached trying to follow their paths, but the symbols on them—small, faint markings—were too unclear to decipher. Were they stars? Celestial signs? I couldn’t tell.

“Focus, Brida,” I muttered, dragging a shaky hand across my forehead. The room felt too warm, the pressure of time closing in around me. I stared at the rings, trying to find something—anything—that would make sense.

Minutes passed. Or was it only seconds? My pulse was thundering too loudly for me to focus.

Then, out of the corner of my eye, I caught something on the wall behind them. A faint, almost imperceptible pattern etched into the stone—a constellation. I turned, my eyes scanning the intricate design. It matched the symbols on the rings.

“That’s it,” I whispered, my hands trembling. “I just need to align them…”

But the rings spun relentlessly, faster now, as if they sensed I was getting close. The symbols blurred again, and I cursed under my breath, wracking my brain, trying to remember anything—any scrap of knowledge about celestial alignments and ancient mechanisms. I knew this. I had studied it, but in this moment of frantic panic, it was slipping through my grasp.

The timepiece behind me groaned, its ticking intensifying, and a wave of dread washed over me. I was running out of time.

I clenched my fists to steady the shaking and stared at the rings again. The timing required proficiency. Match the constellation—line them up—just like the diagram on the wall.

Think, Brida, think!

I took a deep breath, trying to recall the movements, the rotations, and the spacing. Slowly, painstakingly, I moved the rings, one by one, trying to match them to the celestial pattern behind me. My heart raced, each movement feeling like a gamble.

One ring slipped out of place.

“No, no, no!” My voice came out more desperate than I intended, panic rising in my throat. I readjusted it, squinting to keep the symbols in view. Another wrong move, and I’d have to start over.

After what felt like an eternity, the symbols clicked into place, aligning perfectly with the constellation. I exhaled, my whole body sagging with momentary relief. The celestial alignment shimmered before me, casting a soft, ethereal glow. I wiped my sweaty palms on my tunic, my chest tight.

But it wasn’t over. The timepiece.

I spun back to it, my mind racing. How was I supposed to match the timepiece to this alignment? I fumbled with the hands, trying to make sense of it, but the symbols on the clock face weren’t anything familiar. I closed my eyes, fighting the growing panic, and tried to recall the connection between celestial movements and time…

Stars and time…they were intertwined. I gritted my teeth, trying to remember how my mother had explained it to me when I was little, but the memory was hazy.

Then, it hit me.

I forced my trembling fingers to adjust the hands of the timepiece, aligning them not to hours but to phases, matching them to the stars in the alignment. It was maddening, each tick of the clock like a knife to my nerves, but I kept moving the hands, praying I was right.

With a soft click, the timepiece locked into place. A low rumble echoed through the chamber, and the orb groaned as its armor began to fall away, exposing its glowing red core. I let out an exasperated breath, not believing I had done it.

But before I could dwell on it, the walls of the chamber changed again, revealing a dark, narrow corridor.

I stepped forward, my legs unsteady, my heart still pounding in my chest. The walls were lined with ancient parchment, the faded writing difficult to decipher, but it called to me. The corridor stretched on, endless and shadowed, the air thick with tension.

As I passed the parchments, faint voices called out, as if reading the words aloud.

“I see you, Brida Larrow.”

“You do not belong here.”

I paused as a warm breeze brushed against my cheek, sending a shiver down my spine, trying to determine if voices were speaking to me or if it was the last vestige of my resolve. I froze, glancing around the empty corridor. The air was still again, silent—but then, I heard it.

Keep going.

“Keep going,” I repeated to myself, half convinced I’d imagined the voice.

But even as I pressed on, the words lingered in the back of my mind, urging me forward.

Reaching the end of the corridor, I faced a massive mosaic on the floor. The stones beneath me were cold, biting into my knees as I knelt down to inspect the fragmented tiles. My hands shook, both from exhaustion and the weight of knowing what was expected of me. The pieces lay scattered, each one representing a moment in Azmeer’s long and bloody history—the rise and fall of empires, the forging of alliances, the betrayals that had shaped the courts.

I had studied this. Countless nights spent with Kadian, poring over old texts and diagrams, had led me here. My mind raced, trying to pull the right memories to the surface. But my hands wouldn’t stop trembling, making the pieces fumble between my fingers as I began to arrange them.

Each click of a tile felt like a countdown. The orb’s shadowy tendrils pulsed, their movements in sync with the rhythm of the puzzle, growing stronger with every correct placement. I swallowed hard, feeling the pressure closing in on me. The faint hum of the orb filled the room, its red glow casting eerie, distorted shadows on the walls as if it was reacting to my every move.

Focus, Brida. Piece by piece.

The history of the Courts stretched out before me, an intricate web of power struggles and long-forgotten betrayals. I knew where each piece fit, but my mind was clouded by panic. What if I missed something? What if I wasn’t fast enough?

I pressed harder, trying to block out the fear. My fingers traced over a tile depicting a pivotal alliance, one I had memorized with Kadian. It fit with a soft click, and the orb pulsed again, its tendrils curling tighter, almost impatient.

The last tile slid into place. I let out a shaky breath, leaning back to take in the completed mosaic. The orb’s armor began to fall away, piece by piece, until it stood bare—a glowing, pulsing heart of red light, suspended by threads of silver. The air around it hummed with a strange, almost musical vibration, like a song just out of reach.

I didn’t know why, but I felt compelled to touch it.

I hesitated for only a moment before placing my trembling hands on the orb’s surface. The vibrations coursed through me like tiny shocks running up my arms, and the shadows within the orb shifted, twisting and dancing in a chaotic ballet of light and dark. The room seemed to fall away as a vision enveloped me, pulling me into its depths.

Sunlight broke over a vast, endless void. It was calm at first, serene, but then chaos. A rush of creation, violent and overwhelming, as if the entire world was being born and torn apart. I felt it all: the raw power of beginnings and endings, of order fighting to emerge from chaos.

Faces flickered within the vision, one after another as if drawn from my very soul. My mother’s face, full of warmth and hope. My dad, his worn eyes heavy with sorrow. Kadian, his steady presence always grounding me. Lil, fierce and unyielding. And then Dainan—his dark, commanding gaze burning through the vision, unsettling me in ways I didn’t understand.

Each image brought a fresh wave of emotion crashing over me, but I shook my head, trying to focus. The orb pulsed again beneath my hands, the shadows shifting once more, swirling faster.

What do I do? I wanted to scream, to demand answers, but all that came out was a whisper. The orb shifted in my hands, the vision swirling into something else. Chaos, order. Beginnings, endings. It all blurred together, making my mind spin. I closed my eyes, struggling to make sense of it, struggling to find the clarity I needed.

“Please,” I whispered. “Show me a way out of here.”

The shadows inside the orb stilled for a moment, and then they began to shift, forming shapes—tendrils of darkness curling into a path. The tendrils stretched out before me, twisting through the air and carving a way forward, leading toward the exit. The path glowed in the darkness, a vision of light cutting through the void.

I followed it, my breath coming in shallow gasps, each step forward feeling like a battle against the panic tightening in my chest. The whispers of doubt still lingered, clawing at the edges of my mind, but I pushed them aside, focusing on the light.

Each footstep echoed through the chamber, a reminder of how alone I was in this moment. The way forward twisted and turned, and with every step, I felt the weight of my decisions—the lies, the risks, the hope that maybe I could still make it through. I wasn’t sure if I was walking toward redemption or something far worse.

As I reached the final stretch of the path, the orb pulsed one last time in my hands, and the vision around me began to fade. The darkness lifted, leaving me standing at the exit.

With the final challenge behind me, I stumbled out of the dark passage into the sunlit courtyard, blinking hard against the brightness. The sudden flood of light felt harsh and disorienting, as if I had been thrown from one world into another. My legs wobbled beneath me and the air felt too thin, too real after the oppressive, shadowy maze. I blinked again, trying to steady my breath, but all I could think was: I made it.

A hush fell over the courtyard as people turned to look at me. Their murmurs seemed distant, like the soft hum of bees. I could feel their eyes on me, weighing me, judging me. My head was spinning, my heart still hammering in my chest. I was here—I had survived the first challenge—but where was Kadian?

“Brida!”

I jolted at the sound of my name, my heart leaping into my throat. Lil appeared from the crowd, her face bright and relieved. “I’m so glad to see you. I was worried you might not make it.”

I tried to smile, but it came out weak, my limbs still trembling from the exertion. “Yeah,” I croaked, swallowing the tightness in my throat. “Me too.”

Before I could catch my breath, the Master of Trials strode forward, his dark eyes locking onto mine with unsettling precision. “Brida Larrow,” he announced, his voice cold and commanding. “You have completed the puzzle. You are the one hundred and twentieth to do so.”

Not first. Not last. Somewhere in between. It should have brought relief, but all I could feel was panic. Where is Kadian?

My thoughts were racing, careening wildly, too fast to catch hold of. I tried to steady my breathing, but it felt like the air was being sucked out of my lungs. My eyes scanned the courtyard, darting from one face to another, searching for him. But he wasn’t there. The longer I waited, the more the panic wound inside me, constricting like a vice around my chest.

What if he doesn’t come out? What if something happened to him in there? The thought struck me like a hammer, and I felt a cold sweat break out across my skin. My heart raced faster, the pounding in my chest becoming deafening. Please… please let him make it.

The crowd was watching me, but I couldn’t stop my hands from trembling. I felt nauseous, dizzy, like I was balancing on the edge of a cliff. Every minute dragged by, each one a fresh spike of panic. My mind kept flickering back to the maze, to the red orb and the puzzle, and then back to Kadian. He’s strong. He’s smart. He’s fine. But the mantra didn’t help. It felt hollow. My breaths were coming in short gasps now, my vision blurring at the edges.

I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to hold it together, but the fear was gnawing at me, pulling me under. Why is it taking so long?

Lil’s voice floated toward me, gentle but worried. “Brida? You okay?”

I barely heard her. The world around me felt distant, muffled and far away. My body felt too heavy, too disconnected from the ground. I can’t do this. I can’t do this without him.

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to breathe through the panic, but my thoughts kept spiraling. I’m going to pass out. I’m going to faint right here in front of everyone. I’m going to ? —

After what felt like an eternity, a figure staggered through the archway. I blinked, my breath catching in my throat. Kadian.

He’s okay. Relief surged through me so fast that my knees buckled, and for a split second, I thought I might collapse.

“Kadian!” I shouted, my voice trembling as I ran to him, my legs wavering beneath me. Lil followed close behind.

Kadian looked up, his face pale but determined, his hair damp with sweat. A tired but triumphant smile spread across his face as our eyes met. “I told you we’d both make it.”

I threw my arms around him, holding on as hard as I could, feeling his warmth, his presence, the solidity of him grounding me in the moment. “You not making it would’ve been worse than the red orb,” I said with a shaky laugh, my voice muffled against his shoulder.

He chuckled, the sound strained. “Red orb?”

I pulled back, wiping my forehead with the back of my hand, the adrenaline still coursing through me.

But the moment of relief was short-lived.

From the edge of the crowd, a sharp glare caught my eye. A Fae woman with bright red hair was staring at me, her expression cold and unreadable. Her gaze was like a dagger, piercing through the haze of exhaustion that clouded my mind. I tried to shake it off, but a chill ran down my spine. Something about her stare unsettled me, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that her scrutiny was far from friendly.

I turned away, focusing back on Kadian and Lil. The enormity of what lay ahead began to sink in—the trial we’d passed was just the beginning. The true tests were yet to come. But for now, we had this moment of victory, this fragile, fleeting moment of relief.

I let out a long breath, trying to steady myself, trying to push the fear and doubt back into the corners of my mind where they wouldn’t suffocate me. With one final glance at the courtyard, as shadows began to lengthen across the stones, I squared my shoulders.

This was only the beginning.