The Sorcery Trial (The Faerie Race Book 1)

by J. A. Armitage

  John nodded, his eyes closed in rapture as he chewed the donut. He swallowed, grabbing his coffee. “That’s the plan. The Faerie King wants to bring people in to show us humans what it’s really like. Something about furthering human-faerie relations or some such bullshit. I don’t care why, only that I’m the one who will be producing the damn thing.”

  John gave a self-satisfied smirk and took a sip of his coffee. He nodded slightly to let me know that I’d done a good job with it. Much better than the time he threw his coffee at me for it being too cold.

  “It’s going to be a race. But better than a race. We’ll have faerie-human teams, so there’ll be plenty of drama. They’ll have to dodge obstacles in rough terrain, avoid freakish faerie beasts, solve riddles. And, now that magic’s out in the open and legal, we’ll have that too. Magic—actual magic.”

  His eyes misted over as he held his hands out wide, complete with half-eaten donut. “Danger! Intrigue! Magic! Maybe even romance. God, this thing is going to be a gold mine! People are going to go nuts.”

  “Who are the contestants going to be?” I asked casually, trying to keep from sounding like I was too interested. If people were going over the Hedge, I was going to do everything in my power to be one of them.

  “I don’t know yet.” He looked right at me, his chiseled jaw working. “I guess we’ll do what all those talent shows do and hold auditions?” His blue eyes lit up. “That’s it. We’ll hold auditions. Great idea. Write it down.”

  It hadn’t been my idea, and I wasn’t his secretary, but I wasn’t about to point either of those things out to him. Instead, I grabbed a pen and a notepad from the credenza against the wall and began to write.

  “Anything else?” I asked once I’d finished writing the word ‘audition’ in black ink.

  “Not yet,” John barked, snatching the notepad out of my hand and reading that one word. He nodded thoughtfully at it.

  Auditions. If they were holding auditions, that meant they weren’t going to hire actors. They were looking for real people. My heart began to beat quicker once again. It was really getting a workout today what with everything going on.

  “What will the auditions consist of?” I asked. If I was the first to know, maybe I could take advantage of my head start.

  “Something really cool…” John answered, staring off into space. I wondered what exactly he was picturing. “And dangerous.”

  “Something cool and dangerous?” I echoed back to him, trying to pluck up the courage to ask him the question I really wanted to ask. Cool and dangerous was so vague. It could mean anything. But did it matter? For a chance to find my sister, I’d skydive over shark-infested waters.

  “Hmmm.” John ran a hand through his perfect blond hair.

  I plunged ahead. “Is there any chance I would be allowed to audition?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady and my tone even.

  When he turned to look at me, it was like he’d only just noticed I was in the room—even though we’d been conversing for the past few minutes.

  John looked me up and down, and I tried to interpret what he saw. Pretty-enough blonde girl with hazel eyes? Not too tall, biceps slightly too big, boobs slightly too small? Jeans and boots scuffed from real labor, rather than bought that way at some overpriced boutique?

  I stifled a sigh. It was plain to see from the expression on his face that despite me bringing him coffee twice a day for nearly a year, he didn’t have the first clue who I was. And he wasn’t impressed by what he saw.

  “No,” John answered abruptly, and just like that, my dream of finding my sister was shattered once again.

  3

  The auditions for The Fantastic Faerie Race, as the show was to be called, came together crazy fast, as everyone was worried that another network would find out and try to hijack the show. The entire lot was buzzing with the news; everywhere I went the word “faerie” was on someone’s lips. I scowled each time I heard it, sinking deeper into my funk the closer we got to auditions.

  I didn’t really blame John for rejecting my request. I knew how it worked. They were looking for contestants who would make the best TV—the most beautiful or talented, the most drama-prone and self-destructive. There was a formula to putting together a reality show cast, and it seemed that aspiring stunt girls from Montana were not considered a key ingredient.

  I buried myself in my tasks at work, keeping my head down, and in the evening, after sitting in the hour and a half of traffic it took to get home to my barely-affordable apartment in Irvine, I doubled my workouts. I went to my regular evening boot camp or MMA class and then went for a long run afterwards, trying to fit in some stairs or other resistance training. The physical exhaustion kept my mind from spinning too badly, thinking about Cass and how badly I was failing in my sworn promise to find her and bring her home.

  The police and the ICCF had given up searching, my parents had lost hope, and after a year of her being gone, I'd given up too. Not hope, I never gave up hope, but I'd given up searching. What was the point when I knew in my heart where she was but couldn't get there. I'd trampled the fields and forests for miles around our home, hoping to find some portal they’d used, but even as I drove myself to exhaustion, I knew it was pointless. She was gone.

  She'd been acting differently in the few weeks before she left. Distant. Secretive. Worried. Pulling away from me. So when Cass looked me in the eyes and begged me not to tell anyone she was going to be gone for a little while, it had been an easy promise to keep. I was just glad she was trusting me with something. But I was such an idiot—because I hadn’t seen her shaking hands, the way her eyes darted about, for what they were. Signs I should have picked up on. Signs that everything was not okay—and that Cass was in trouble. I don’t know what that faerie had on her, or how he forced her to leave, but she never would have left us by choice. Not Cass.

  A year after she left, I finally admitted defeat and moved away from the bad memories, leaving my mother and father to grieve for another lost daughter. They knew where I was, and I called them all the time, but the guilt at leaving them still gnawed at my heart as it did when I thought of Cass and how I just let her walk out of all our lives.

  Despite doing everything in my power to avoid all thought and mention of faeries, when the first day of auditions arrived, I found myself gravitating towards the far corner of the lot with everyone else. They’d been interviewing contestant candidates the past few days, and only the top contenders would have a chance to compete in the main auditions.

  My eyes widened as I ducked into the cavernous space where the auditions were being held. In the span of a week, they had set up one of the most elaborate obstacle courses that I’d ever seen. Even knowing what miracle-workers Hollywood set-designers could be, it was impressive.

  It was designed like a forest landscape—filled with gnarled trees and rough terrain, including a waterfall and craggy cliff face. I spotted a barbed wire fence, rope ladder, and—I held up a hand to shield my eyes as a gush of flame shot skyward—some sort of pyrotechnic geyser?

  A group of people were talking on the edge of the course, and my feet moved inadvertently, pulling me closer. These must be the contestants. There were the types you would expect—tanned bodybuilders in tank tops and perky, tiny-waisted girls in sports bras and tight athletic shorts. But then there were others—strange forms and faces I’d never seen before. An incredibly tall pale man with white hair down to his waist, a lithe woman with green-tinged skin and curls of ivy in her emerald curls, a huge craggy creature that looked part mountain—could he be a giant? My mouth went dry at the sight of them. What kind of world contained creatures like these? And could my sister have survived it?

  “Jacqueline?” a hesitant voice asked, and I turned to see a guy hurrying up to me, a friendly, partly apologetic smile on his face. He looked familiar... I struggled to place him.

  “It is Jacqueline, right?” he asked.

  “Uh, yeah. I go by Jacq,” I said.

 
“Jacq.” He grinned. He was cute, in a slightly doughy way, with brown curly hair and a bright smile. “Ben.” He held out his hand, and I shook it. “We met at Christine’s party a few months ago.”

  “Right.” I sighed in relief at placing him. He’d been one of the many faces at my roommate Christine’s housewarming party. She was an aspiring actress and was constantly hosting soirees to try to make connections. I usually tried to make myself scarce as I found her friends and her friends’ friends to be fairly obnoxious human beings, but I’d stayed around for that one. “Ben. You’re a…camera guy, right?”

  “Yep!” he said proudly.

  “Are you going to be working on FFR?” I asked, using the moniker that had quickly been attached to the new show.

  “Yes!” His brown eyes lit up with excitement. “Each of the six teams is going in with one cameraman. It’s going to be amazing. There’s talk that we’ll each have our own like…enchanted flying horse, or dragon, or something to ride above or alongside our team, out of danger, filming whatever happens. It’s going to be epic.”

  “Sounds really cool.” I smiled at him, marveling at how easy it was to mention dragons these days without batting an eye. Even in Hollyweird, the mention of real dragons would have sent someone to the loony bin just a few short years ago. Now, they were as passé as cats and dogs. What a strange world.

  Ben grinned. “I’m the youngest cameraman to be selected,” Ben said proudly. He did look young. Not much older than me in fact. But his enthusiasm was infectious.

  “I thought electronics shorted out around faerie magic?” I asked. “How are you going to film it?”

  “I guess the King has some sort of charm he’ll give us to protect the electronics from the magical interference. It’s going to be amazing.” Ben was practically jumping up and down with excitement, and for a second, I was jealous. I wasn’t sure I’d ever been as excited about anything in my life as he seemed to be right now.

  I glanced over at the action happening on the set. There was one director in charge of it all, but a group of assistants with radios attached to their belts were working as contestant wranglers, busily shouting orders and trying to get everyone under control. To the untrained eye, it looked like a hot mess, but I was sure they knew what they were doing.

  “What do you think of the teams?” I asked Ben. “Do you know who you want to be paired with?”

  “Too soon to tell,” Ben replied as we watched one of the faerie auditioners dart into the course ahead of schedule and a studio assistant in heels follow her, shouting after her.

  “I think the dryad’s kinda cute though.” He blushed. How could he be attracted to these otherworldly creatures? There was something so alien about all of them, even those who did look human. The air crackled around them like some kind of magical aura, and though it was barely noticeable, I could feel it, even from this distance. It was like the whole atmosphere was sucked dry around them.

  “Is she the green one?” I asked, though it didn't matter. I didn't know what a dryad was in the first place. I hadn't felt the need to major in mythical creatures in high school. It wasn't a topic I thought I'd need later on in life. I really should go to the library now that it turned out most of them weren’t mythical after all, just living in a different plane of existence.

  Ben nodded. “They say the Faerie King’s heir is an obvious competitor. He’ll get in no matter what. Nepotism at its finest, but what can you do?”

  “Which one is he?” I asked, curiosity overcoming me. I searched the strange, handsome faces and started when I realized I recognized one of them. The golden-haired faerie from the coffee shop.

  “He’s that one,” Ben nodded his head, lowering his voice. “Tristam Obanstone. Even his name sounds fancy.”

  “The handsome blond one?” My voice was faint, my ears burning. Please, please tell me I did not spill four venti Americanos on the crown prince of Faerwild…

  “Yep, that’s him.”

  “Of course, it is.” I closed my eyes briefly, fighting my mortification.

  “Oh, there’s Katarina Ruskikov.” Ben continued. “She’s a Russian Olympic gymnast.”

  I eyed the blonde girl Ben was pointing out. She was tiny but totally ripped. “She came from Russia? For this?”

  “Yep, it’s drawn competitors from all over the world. Hmm, I don’t envy her partner. He looks like he got up on the wrong side of the bed.”

  A tall, ebony-haired faerie male loomed over the Russian gymnast like a dark cloud. He wore all black—black jeans, black boots, and a black leather jacket. It was an understatement to say he looked out of place next to the neon spandex and tech-fabrics of the other competitors. Dark stubble shadowed the lines of his preternaturally handsome face. He looked like the angel of death, and with a face like that, some might go willingly to the grave.

  As if he could hear my thoughts, his head swiveled in my direction, his piercing gaze locking on me. My breath caught in my throat. His coal-black eyes were lined with dark lashes so long they hardly looked natural.

  “Jacq!” A figure moved into my line of sight, breaking me free from the prison of that faerie’s eyes.

  I pulled in a ragged breath. “John.” I straightened. I’d never been so relieved to see my asshole boss.

  He waved a paper at me. “I’ve got lunch orders for the contestants. We’re filming all day, so I’m going to need you here until we wrap.” He shoved the paper into my hands and spun on the heel of his expensive wingtip shoe, heading back towards the course.

  “Duty calls,” I told Ben.

  Ben smiled at me. “Good to see you again, Jacq.”

  “You too.” And I found I meant it. It was comforting to see a friendly face amongst the weirdness of this day.

  John wasn’t kidding. The auditions lasted all day and well into the night. The obstacle course was only the first part of the audition. There was also a magic test and some sort of logic exam. Apparently, there would be three legs of FFR, testing the contestants in those three areas. Physical prowess, magic, and intelligence.

  It was well after midnight when John finally waved me off. I got to my car, a sad little teal Toyota Corolla, only to realize I had left my purse on the set after delivering a particularly large order of sandwiches. I swore, jogging back towards the building.

  It was a nice night, warm and cloudless. You couldn’t see many stars here, not with all the city lights, but a few peeked out at me. I felt a pang of homesickness. The stars back home were epic. They didn’t call it Big Sky Country for nothing. Cass and I used to love pulling our sleeping bags out into the backyard and falling asleep under the glittering spray of the Milky Way. I wondered what the stars looked like wherever she was. Were the stars different over the Hedge?

  The lights were low in the building, and the trees of the obstacle course cast spindly shadows on the concrete. I found my purse tucked under the table where I’d left it, and pulled the long strap over my head. But as I turned to go, I paused. The obstacle course called to me, a forbidden siren song. I looked around. The building was empty and the cloying magic that had been suffocating me all day had now dispersed leaving only fresh air, or at least as fresh as the air of L.A. ever got. And I hadn’t gotten my workout in tonight. It couldn’t hurt to have one go, could it?

  I’d spent all day watching the contestants running it. Some, such as the Russian gymnast had moved over it with such ease that they might as well have been merely crossing the road, but most had struggled. Some had barely stepped foot on it before falling at the first hurdle. Watching them all had left me itching to try it out. I hadn’t been busting my butt in the gym for the last two years for nothing. I knew I could do it.

  I strode quickly to the start of the course, dropping my purse at my feet and making sure I really was alone on the lot. I pulled off my flannel shirt, leaving only my white tank top. I examined my route as I pulled my hair into a tight ponytail.

  And then I ran. Through the trees I dashed, dodging da
rk pine needles and hurdling over downed logs. I aimed for the post of the barbed wire fence, using it to launch myself over the prickly wire in one jump. A smile stretched onto my face, and I found myself laughing with the thrill of it. This is why I wanted to be a stunt girl. I never felt more like myself than when I had the wind in my hair and adrenaline coursing through my veins. Everything else fell away—my worries, my doubt, my failures. There was only the thrill. I was born for this.

  Up I went, scaling the rope ladder, taking two or three rungs at a time and jumping up onto the cliff face. The exploding fire geysers were turned off, but I was confident I could have dodged those, no problem. My legs and my lungs burned with effort as I sprinted the last leg, hurdling a makeshift river to dash the last few yards to the finish bell. I rang it proudly. I had kicked that course’s ass just as I’d known I would.

  The peal of the bell echoed loudly in the cavernous space, mingling with the ragged tempo of my breathing. The hairs on the back of my neck rose, and I stilled, looking around the shadowed building. I was overcome with the feeling that I was being watched.

  “Hello?” I called, squinting my eyes, trying to see into the dark recesses and corners. The last echo of the bell died away, and I blew out a deep breath. I hurried down the stairs from the upper platform I’d summited and grabbed my shirt and purse, jogging towards the door. All the while, feeling certain that I wasn’t alone.

  4

  “Have you seen this?” John thrust a newspaper under my nose as soon as I opened his office door. I took the paper from him and placed his coffee on the only part of his desk that wasn’t covered in newsprint.

  “That’s only one, but it’s everywhere. Look! This one has it on the front page!”

  I glanced down at the paper in my hand. As John had said, it did indeed have FFR on the cover. Not that I was surprised. The race was a huge deal. I’d seen it mentioned everywhere. Even the comedians on the late night talk shows were making jokes about it.