19
Selena
The moment Sorcha entered the Royal Box, everyone in the arena silenced and stood up. The inside of the arena smelled strangely sweet, like honey and roses.
From where I stood in the back of the box, I could only see the people sitting in the upper bleachers. They were all half-bloods. Of course the half-bloods had the worst seats in the house. They looked like dots in a swarm of ants.
My stomach swooped as it set in that we were about to be on display in front of so many people. It was one thing knowing they were watching through the orbs. It was far more real to see them in person.
“How many people fit in the arena?” I asked Cassia, who was standing next to me.
Bridget piped in before Cassia could answer. “Fifty to eighty thousand,” she said. “For the Games, it’s filled to maximum capacity.”
I took a sharp breath inward, my heart pounding faster. That was more than ten times the amount of people that lived on Avalon. I’d never seen that many people congregated in one place in my life.
Sorcha glided to her throne—a sparkling chair made of pure crystal. The light gleamed off every angle of it, and spikes shot out from the top like the rays of the sun.
Once she turned to face the crowd, I walked toward the far less impressive golden throne beside hers. As I continued forward, I saw more and more of the interior of the Coliseum.
All of the seats were marble. As expected, the fae had the best seats, lower down and closer to the action. People held onto a variety of snacks—cakes, fruits, and sweetmeats—although they’d all stopped eating when Sorcha had entered.
Then the center of the Coliseum came into view, and I stopped in my tracks.
The bottom of the arena was filled with water. Tons of tons of water, so dark that it looked like it had been ripped out of the middle of the ocean.
Three Roman warships floated in the center. Made of wood, the sides of the ships were painted three different colors. Ocean blue, pure white, and deep violet. The wing colors of Octavia, Emmet, and Molly, in that order.
A golden trident sat on the hull of each ship.
There was only one reason to design this fight with water and tridents.
The gods—and the fae—must want Octavia to win.
“Selena?” Sorcha said, and I blinked a few times, remembering that tens of thousands of people were watching us. “Come take your place next to me.”
It’s okay, I told myself as I walked toward the Empress of the Villa throne. Emmet and Molly are on board with the plan. They’re strong fighters. They can beat Octavia, even while she’s surrounded by her element. And Emmet’s element is air. Along with being surrounded by water, they’re surrounded with air, too. They’ve got this.
I reached the throne and turned to face the crowd. But I barely saw any of the people inside the Coliseum. All I could focus on was the watery battlefield.
The other players walked to their seats after us. Their marble chairs were a step below and in front of our thrones. As instructed, they remained standing in front of their seats.
Sorcha took her time gazing around the entirety of the arena. No one spoke as she studied them. It was so quiet that I was afraid to breathe. Finally, she looked straight ahead again and lowered herself onto her throne.
I sat down next, followed by the other players, followed by the fae, and lastly, by the half-bloods. Once seated, everyone remained quiet. It was a massive change from their raucous behavior in front of the gods.
Servants entered the Royal Box—one servant for each of us—and presented us with trays of snacks and honeyed wine.
Sorcha took a pastry with apricot jam in the center and a glass of wine.
I needed to keep my head clear during the Games, so I passed on the wine. But not wanting to get on the bad sides of the fae or the gods, I took a date and popped it in my mouth.
Since the arena was still silent, I gave the servant a small smile and a nod, hoping to convey that the date was all I wanted. He bowed his head and hurried with the other servants to stand in the back of the box.
I looked around for Prince Devyn, assuming he’d have one of the best seats in the house. But the crowd was so huge that I couldn’t spot him.
Maybe he was watching through the orbs.
Or maybe he wasn’t watching at all, because his omniscient sight had already told him what was going to happen.
Suddenly, there was an explosion of bright light at the top center of the arena. Bacchus rode out of it, like he was coming through a curtain.
Four black panthers pulled his chariot. He held his pinecone scepter, although now he wore a black toga that covered only his bottom. His chiseled chest was bare—minus the snake curled around his neck. His eyes gleamed with a bloodthirsty madness they hadn’t had before.
The crowd stood and stomped their feet, getting louder and louder until the noise rumbled in my chest. This was the crowd I remembered. But their cheers were darker now. Twisted. Yearning for blood.
Sorcha remained calm and unmoving in her throne. It was impossible to tell whether she supported the Faerie Games or not.
Bacchus circled the arena a few times, the eyes of his jaguars glowing bright yellow. His dark gaze met mine, and shivers traveled up and down my spine.
Finally he settled down, his chariot floating in the center of the arena. His jaguars sat down on what was seemingly empty space. One of them started licking its paw.
Bacchus raised his scepter, and the crowd quieted. “Citizens of the Otherworld!” he said, his voice booming through the amphitheater. “You’ve come from near and far to watch the first fight to the death of this year’s Faerie Games. We’ve gone all out for you, to give you a show you’ll never forget. Doesn’t the arena look spectacular?!”
He motioned to the water below him, and the crowd went wild again. They didn’t stop until he raised his scepter once more.
“I’m sure you all know the rules, but since it’s the first fight of the Games, it’s my duty to remind you of them,” he continued. “When I give the go, the three champions selected by this week’s Empress of the Villa will enter the arena.”
All eyes in the stadium went to me, and Bacchus grinned wickedly.
I clenched my fists where they rested on the armrests. Electricity sparked below my skin, and my hands lit up with it, orbs of lightning surrounding them.
The crowd cheered again. The orbs around my hands grew, and the crowd’s cries became louder and louder.
They thought I was doing this to entertain them. But as their cheers grew, so did my anger, and so did the globes of lightning around my hands. They were the size of basketballs, and getting bigger.
I needed it to stop.
Glancing over at Sorcha, I steadied my breathing, embracing her serene aura.
After what felt like the longest few seconds of my life, the orbs around my hands shrank until extinguishing completely.
All eyes returned to Bacchus.
“The stage is designed uniquely for each fight,” the god continued. “Since these fights can get messy, there are barrier spells surrounding the perimeter of the stage for your protection. On my go, the three chosen champions will enter the arena, and will fight using their magic and the tools provided for them. They’ll fight until one of them is dead. Simple enough, right?”
The crowd roared and clapped once again. It was almost like Bacchus’s presence worked them into a frenzy. Only those of us inside the Royal Box appeared unaffected.
He raised his scepter and shot purple magic toward the ceiling, making the crowd burst into another wave of cheers and applause. The magic burst into a cloud cover, and bunches of grapes rained down on the audience. People reached upward to catch the grapes, shoving past each other to get to them. They cheered and raised the grapes above their heads in victory before digging in.
One of the bunches dropped straight onto my lap. It smelled of fruit and alcohol.
Bacchus had made the grapes alcoholic.<
br />
I picked up the bunch of grapes by the stem, held it out above the floor, and called upon my magic. The electricity sizzled under my skin, and I shot it into the grapes, disintegrating them in a second. The ash floated down to the floor.
No one noticed. The grapes continued to fall. Fae and half-bloods alike continued to catch them and cheer.
Anger crackled through my body. The electricity grew hotter and stronger as I watched them lower entire bunches to their mouths and devour the grapes straight from the stems, like animals.
My trainers had warned me that the Games were viewed as entertainment. They’d warned me that the competitions were rigged.
They hadn’t warned me that the fights to the death would be full-blown celebrations.
The grapes kept coming, falling faster and faster.
I couldn’t watch it anymore.
I stood up, raised my hands, and released bolts of lightning toward the grapes falling in front of the Royal Box. I struck one after another, like I was a huntress and the grapes were my prey. I didn’t even pause to breathe. My lightning kept coming, fueled by each bunch of grapes I struck down from the air. The sheer power of it was electrifying.
I didn’t count how many bunches of grapes I’d turned to ash before realizing that the entire arena had gone quiet.
Bacchus lowered his scepter, his purple magic disappeared, and the grapes stopped falling. He stared me down with eyes that hungered for blood. His panthers stared at me, too. The other players had turned to watch me as well. Most of them looked entertained by my spectacle. Julian, Cassia, and Bridget were horrified.
I slowly sat back down. The electricity coursing through me fizzled out completely.
Just like with the orbs, my magic had taken control of my body. It had a mind of its own. And it didn’t care if it broke the rules of the Games.
My heart pounded. I looked at Bacchus, gripping the armrests of my throne and waiting for him to call upon Juno to decide my punishment.
Bacchus threw his head back and laughed. “Jupiter’s chosen champion is determined to steal the spotlight!” he said once he’d gotten ahold of himself. “That doesn’t seem fair to the champions she selected to fight for their lives today, does it?”
One fae raised a bunch of grapes in the air and started chanting.
Fight! Fight! FIGHT!
Everyone joined in, repeating the word over and over and over.
Bacchus spun around in his chariot, grinning as the feverish chant grew so loud that it could probably be heard in the neighboring city.
My transgression was being celebrated—not condemned.
Confused, I thought back to the rule I’d broken when I’d destroyed the orbs.
Any player who attacks or destroys objects created by the gods for use in the Faerie Games will be punished.
Realization set in. Unlike the orbs, the grapes weren’t created for use in the Faerie Games. They were created to add excitement.
I hadn’t broken any rules. My magic had shown itself to be volatile and dangerous, which would likely put even more of a target on my back. But I’d escaped punishment thanks to simple rhetoric.
Bacchus’s eyes danced with amusement, and he raised his scepter back into the air.
The crowd’s sudden silence was more deafening than the chanting.
By now, I was convinced that Bacchus was affecting the emotions of everyone in the arena. He had to be. There was no other explanation for the hold he had on them.
He continued looking down on the crowd, his grin morphing into something animalistic and feral. “You all came here for a fight!” he said, and the audience cheered in approval. “So it’s time I gave you a fight!”
He pumped his scepter into the air again. Three doors set far away from each other at the bottom of the arena slid down, spilling more water inside.
Three people in gold gladiator costumes floated out in tiny rowboats—one from each door.
Molly, Emmet, and Octavia.
20
Selena
Each rowboat headed toward one of the bigger ships in the center of the arena. It was set up so each champion could get to the ship painted the color of his or her wings, grab their trident, and fight.
Octavia raised her hands, and blue magic poured out of them, connecting with the water. It rose up like a fountain beneath her rowboat and dropped her onto the deck of her ship, where she grabbed her trident.
Molly shifted into one of her favorite forms—a hawk—and flew toward her ship.
Emmet used his magic over air to fly toward Molly’s ship. He was going to help her.
But he gathered his white magic and pushed a gust of wind toward her, flinging her across the arena.
She smacked into the invisible wall surrounding the perimeter with a sickening crack and slid down into the teaming water below. Right before she hit the water, she shifted back to human form.
My breath caught in my chest. The crowd cheered, but it was muffled around me.
Emmet can’t attack Molly, I thought. This must be a ploy so Octavia doesn’t realize the two of them are about to gang up against her.
He swooped down onto Molly’s ship and grabbed her trident. Then he zoomed over to his ship and grabbed his trident. He held both of them over his head in victory, setting the crowd off into a frenzy again.
Molly didn’t surface from the water.
Octavia stood on the hull of her ship with her trident in hand, smirking as she watched Emmet’s boastful display.
I looked desperately into the water for Molly, although the water was so dark that it was impossible to see where she was. But she was still alive. If she’d drowned, Bacchus would have already ended the fight.
Emmet flew over to Octavia’s ship, landed beside her, and handed her one of his tridents. “It’s only fitting for the chosen champion of Neptune to have an extra trident,” he said, magic amplifying his voice so everyone in the arena could hear.
“Yes, it is.” Octavia narrowed her eyes and surveyed the water. Her blue magic thrummed through the tridents and came out of their points, swirling around her. Like Emmet, her voice was also magically amplified so we could all hear. “After all, I have a fish to fry.”
Her magic spread outward toward the water. The surface roughened, angry waves cresting and crashing against the sides of the arena. The ships bobbed like they were in a storm at sea.
Molly wouldn’t be able to hide for much longer.
“Fight back,” I said, although the claps of the crowd drowned out my cry, and Molly clearly couldn’t hear me. “Come on, Molly. Fight back.”
My magic crackled to life in my chest, jolts of electricity rushing through my body.
The magic didn’t have time to surface before there was a light brush of fingers on my arm. Sorcha. At her touch, calmness floated through me like a shot of morphine.
Nothing you do or say can affect the fight now. The empress remained facing forward, her voice echoing in my mind. You need to learn how to control your magic. For now, this will do the trick. But it’s only temporary.
She moved her hand away, although the calming effect she’d had on me remained. The intense electricity of my magic had dulled to a low hum.
Like all fae royalty, she was gifted.
And she was using her gift to help me.
Why was she helping me? But more importantly…
“Isn’t interfering with the Games against the rules?” I asked.
“I’m the empress of the Otherworld,” she said with a serene smile. “I can do whatever I want. And preventing you from having another outburst is beneficial to everyone watching the Games.”
“How so?” With her magic dulling my senses and emotions, I was as cool and collected as she was. Especially since no one was paying attention to us. They were too focused on the fight in the arena.
“You’re intriguing,” she said simply. “It would be disappointing if Jupiter’s first chosen champion did something stupid to get herself elimin
ated from the Games this early on. And the last thing I want is for the citizens of the Otherworld to be disappointed.”
Sorcha wasn’t helping me out of kindness. Of course she wasn’t. She viewed us as pawns—just like the gods.
Suddenly the crowd roared, and I whipped my head back around to refocus on the center of the arena.
A great white shark as big as a school bus had burst forth from the water. Molly. She propelled herself toward Octavia, her mouth wide open, her multiple rows of sharp teeth bared.
Yes, I thought, although my emotions felt distant and dull because of whatever Sorcha had done to me. Take her down.
But Octavia shot a stream of water straight at Molly, knocking her back into the teaming waves. Water splashed around Molly as she crashed back down. Then Octavia hurled one of her tridents straight at the spot where Molly had just landed.
As the trident connected with the water, there was a crunching, cracking sound from the other side of the ship. The ship upended, and Octavia stumbled. Then, the ship started to sink.
Molly had bitten a hole in it.
Octavia and Emmet took a running leap off the end of their ship and jumped.
Emmet flew in an arc through the air, landing on Molly’s still intact ship.
A jet of water gathered beneath Octavia, propping her up. It went up to her waist, and she was right in the center of it, like a mermaid out for blood. The trident she’d flung into the water soared out of the surface and landed back into her hand, in the same way Thor called for his hammer.
The Faerie Pawn (Dark World: The Faerie Games Book 2) Page 7
