The Faerie Pawn (Dark World: The Faerie Games Book 2)

by Michelle Madow

  36

  Selena

  On the morning of the arena fight, there was only one object in my closet. A slinky gladiator outfit identical to the ones Octavia and Molly had worn last week.

  Julian looked as dangerous as ever in his gladiator outfit that left his chest bare. Defined, slender muscles covered nearly every inch of his body. Only his bottom was fully covered by his gold gladiator kilt, which hung low on his hipbones.

  If only it dipped an inch or two lower, I’d know he wasn’t my soulmate once and for all.

  In the carriage ride to the arena, Bridget wouldn’t look at Julian or me. Knowing what was about to happen, I couldn’t look at her, either.

  The way she’d avoided us all week was strange. The champions selected to go to the arena usually made an effort to talk one-on-one, to try making deals. I knew Bridget hadn’t come to me, and Julian said she hadn’t gone to him, either. I believed him.

  Her behavior was sketchy, and being around her put me on edge.

  What does she have planned for us in the arena?

  We weren’t even halfway to the capital before the carriage ride started to feel unbearably long. “Can the fae not teleport?” I mused, gazing out at the endless green hills below us.

  “They technically can,” Julian said. “But teleporting was banned from the Otherworld back in Queen Gloriana’s time. There’s a spell over the realm that keeps even the empress herself from teleporting.”

  “Why?” I asked.

  “We love nature,” Bridget said quickly. “The act of traveling immerses us into places in the realm we might have never seen otherwise.”

  “I see.” I tried not to make a big deal out of the fact that this was the first time in a week she’d said a word to me. “But what about when something needs to be done quickly?”

  “The spell that prohibits teleportation was cast by full fae—not by half-bloods.” She shrugged. “Time is different to immortals. A year to us is like a day to them. There’s no need to rush from place to place if you have centuries—even millennia—ahead of you.”

  At the mention of immortality, her gray eyes darkened.

  Goosebumps rose on my arms at the reminder that her hours in our world were most likely numbered.

  “Why have you avoided us all week?” I asked now that the conversation between us had opened.

  “I received a few visions after Octavia became Empress of the Villa,” she said. “Visions that go beyond the scope of the Games.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I can’t tell you.” She shook her head, looking truly sad about it. “But there’s a specific way the fight needs to pan out today. I’ve been spending time alone as I come to terms with accepting it.”

  She turned away, making it clear she didn’t want to speak about it further.

  We rode the rest of the way to the Coliseum in silence.

  Once we arrived, the driver turned the opposite way of the carriages taking the other champions to the Royal Box. We flew down to a modest abode next to the Coliseum. The gates swung open to let us inside, and it turned out not to be a house at all, but a ramped entrance descending into an underground tunnel. The walls of the tunnel were lit with what looked like twinkling Christmas lights.

  The path eventually widened into an area of arched passages that appeared to make up the basement of the Coliseum. The walls and floor were bare, and there was no natural light anywhere.

  My chest tightened, and I held onto the side of the carriage to steady myself. “We’re beneath the fighting pit,” I said. “Aren’t we?”

  “Yes.” Julian was tense in his seat beside me. “We are.”

  As we rolled along the path, we passed cages holding lions and tigers. They growled as our winged horse passed them, licking their lips like they wanted to eat the magnificent creature for breakfast.

  Will they be in the arena with us today? I stared into a lion’s empty, hungry eyes, and my heart leaped into my throat. God, I hope not.

  Eventually, we stopped in what I assumed was the center of the arena. Three half-blood men stood in a short line, their arms straight to their sides as our carriage pulled up in front of them. Once we stopped, the man in the center stepped forward and opened the door for us.

  “Each of you will come with one of us,” he instructed, not meeting any of our eyes. “We’ll take you to separate locations and prepare you for your entrance into the arena.”

  Bridget held her head high, as stoic as ever as she stepped out first. The half-blood ushered her away the moment both of her feet were on the ground.

  The next half-blood stepped forward and looked to me, waiting.

  This is it. Icy fear froze my bones. I didn’t want to follow this strange man into the depths of this cold basement. I wanted to be back home, in Avalon. I could practically smell the tropical air as I pictured the lush island that had once been my prison, and now felt like an unreachable haven.

  Suddenly, Julian’s warm fingers brushed against my forearm, grounding me back into reality. “It’s going to be okay,” he murmured in my ear. “I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise.”

  I nodded, believing him. Julian was strong. He was the most skilled in combat of all the champions. He was going to protect me.

  And if the fight didn’t go as planned…

  Electricity sparked to life under my skin, like a comforting web of safety. I flexed my fingers, the magic buzzing through me.

  I have the power to protect myself.

  I took one final look into Julian’s caring blue eyes before stepping out of the carriage.

  The moment my feet touched the ground, the half-blood servant grabbed my hand and pulled me into the darkness.

  It took every ounce of control not to fry the half-blood on the spot as he hurried me through the damp stone hallway.

  Breaking the rules means instant death, I reminded myself over and over and over again.

  If I died in the Games, it would be at the hands of one of the other champions. Not because I broke the rules and got myself eliminated.

  We turned a corner, and ahead of me was a tall, narrow cage standing at the end of the hall. Its door was open, and the half-blood wasted no time hurling me inside of it and locking it closed.

  I collided into the cage’s hard floor with a thud. But I forced myself to stand, fear lodging in my throat as I gripped the cold metal bars and shook them as hard as I could. They didn’t budge.

  Terror built in my chest, and my breaths shallowed, my eyes darting around in panic. I was just like those animals I’d seen earlier, trapped inside of a cage.

  But my cage wasn’t only the physical one surrounding me. It was the entire Otherworld itself.

  “That metal was forged by Vulcan,” the half-blood said casually. “He’s the only one strong enough to break it.”

  That didn’t stop me from putting all my strength into trying—and failing—to shake it again. I screamed and jolted it with my electricity, but other than a blink of dull light, nothing happened. I screamed again, but this time, I dropped my arms to my sides in defeat.

  Expending energy now was stupid and careless. I needed to be strong for the upcoming fight.

  “I’m glad you’ve come to your senses,” the half-blood said.

  “Why?” I asked. “Are you rooting for me or something?”

  “The spell that Juno places upon us during the Games forbids us from telling you our opinions or saying anything that’ll help you,” he said. “But as Jupiter’s first chosen champion, you’re certainly intriguing. And I know you don’t want to die today.”

  “So you are rooting for me.”

  “I can’t say one way or the other.”

  However, his mischievous indigo eyes told another story. The fae were tricky, and good with twisting their words.

  He wanted me to win.

  “You’ll remain here until Bacchus is ready for you,” he changed the subject, serious once more.

  “Where will I go
once he’s ready?” I asked.

  “You’ll be transported to the arena. And then, you’ll fight.”

  37

  Selena

  As I waited for Bacchus, I asked the half-blood about his life. Talking with him didn’t quell my anxiety, but it was better than waiting alone.

  His name was Rufus. He lived in a tiny insula apartment in the outskirts of the capital with his wife and three children. He was one of the many half-bloods who acted as caretakers to the animals held in the pens under the Coliseum.

  The animals were there because on the days when the Coliseum wasn’t hosting the Faerie Games, half-bloods came from all over the Otherworld to fight them in the arena. The ones who won received money for their families. The sum depended on how much the viewers enjoyed the show. The ones who lost—and they usually lost—became that animal’s next meal.

  Rufus was receiving double his hourly wage for the honor of being in charge of me today, instead of doing his usual job of taking care of the animals.

  He was telling me about his son’s dream to become a wood carver when a loud clang above us cut the conversation short. A beam of bright light flooded into the basement, and it took a second for my eyes to adjust. The cheering and stomping of the crowd roared overhead.

  I pressed my face against the bars and twisted around so I could look up. A trap door was open in the ceiling.

  It was about the same size as the perimeter of my cage.

  “It’s time,” Rufus said, and what sounded like the rungs of a chain clinked above me.

  The cage jolted, and I stumbled backward, holding my arms out to steady myself. I gripped onto the bars as the cage started to rise, meeting Rufus’s eyes in fear.

  “Your magic is strong.” He tilted his neck upward as he watched me ascend. “We’ve seen you harness that strength. Now, it’s up to you to show them how powerful you can be!”

  My electricity surged, his words lighting a fire within me.

  I can do this.

  Rufus technically hadn’t said anything I didn’t know. Which, I supposed, was why he’d been able to say it. Because he wasn’t saying he supported me, or giving me outside information that would help me in the Games.

  But still, his words did help me. Not on a literal level, but on a mental one.

  And if I made it out of the Games alive, I wouldn’t forget the support he’d given me today.

  38

  Selena

  The cage rose up into the edge of the arena. I removed my hands from the bars once I surfaced and stood strong, not wanting to look like a scared, trapped animal.

  The floor of the arena was flat and covered in plain, brown dirt. And fire burned around the perimeter. The orange flames must have been three times my height, and they were hot against my back. They crackled and popped so loudly that they dulled the cheering of the crowd.

  Julian and Bridget waited in matching cages, although we were all as far apart from each other as possible.

  One longsword and one dagger made of black glass—obsidian—lay on the ground in front of each of us.

  This seemed like it was going to be far more similar to a traditional gladiator battle than the watery one last week. A fight to the death using swords and knives.

  A fight rigged in Julian’s favor.

  The fae and the gods want Julian and me to take Bridget out of the Games.

  Bacchus flew in his chariot overhead, looking as dark and twisted as he had last week. “Champions, get ready!” He pulled on the reins of his jaguars, stopping the chariot so it hovered in the center of the Coliseum. “This fight begins in three, two, ONE!”

  Our cage doors popped open.

  The tightness in my chest released, and I stepped out onto the ground.

  Immediately, I reached down to pick up the sword and the dagger. The obsidian blades were enforced with magic so they wouldn’t break, and they were lighter than the steel we used on Avalon.

  I held the swords at the ready, balancing on the balls of my feet in preparation to fight. Julian and Bridget did the same. Our cages sank back into the ground, and the trap doors slammed shut.

  It was only us, the weapons, and the fire. With the flames burning so high, it was easy to pretend the crowd wasn’t even there—as long as I didn’t look up.

  We all three stared each other down. But no one moved to attack first.

  “You can’t put this off forever!” Bacchus yelled from above. “We’ve made sure to see to that!”

  He raised his hand, and his purple magic circled around the perimeter of the fighting ground. The fire grew stronger and moved inward. The heat burned into my back, giving me no choice but to hurry forward. If I didn’t, the flames would consume me, burning me to death.

  The fire pushed us forward, forward, and more forward. Once the center of the arena was half the size it was before, the flames stopped growing.

  I glanced at Julian.

  He was intensely focused on Bridget, his swords raised.

  Bridget stared back at him, also in fighting position.

  I might as well have been invisible to them both.

  You’re skilled with a blade, I told myself. If you attack now, you can take Bridget by surprise. A clean swing straight through the neck, making it as instantaneous as possible.

  But I couldn’t kill her in cold blood.

  I wasn’t a murderer.

  Then, Julian looked over at me. His pained expression said it all.

  He wasn’t a murderer, either.

  The crowd roared in discontent, screaming at us to fight. Their cries turned into an anthem. Fight, fight, FIGHT!

  Suddenly, Bridget raced toward Julian, moving in a blur thanks to her super-speed.

  He snapped into focus, raising his blades to protect himself. The crowd cheered in excitement, and even the flames burned brighter and higher.

  But Julian and Bridget didn’t fight.

  Because Bridget dropped her weapons and ran straight into his knife.

  He stared at her with wide, shocked eyes as she stumbled backward, the knife embedded deep into her stomach. It gave a sickening squish as she removed it. She looked to the bloody blade and dropped it to the ground.

  Unable to stand, she fell down next to it.

  As she did, she reached for Julian. She grabbed the top of his kilt and pulled it down a few centimeters. Not so far down as to expose him, but far enough to uncover the clover birthmark on his left hipbone.

  I dropped both of my weapons to the ground.

  Julian was my soulmate.

  I didn’t know how it was possible. Half-bloods rarely had soulmates. Yet, at the same time, it all made sense. The strange, magnetic pull I felt toward him. The way I’d inherently trusted him, despite my training on Avalon that told me to always be wary of strangers. The way my entire body warmed whenever he so much as brushed a finger upon my skin. The way everything felt strangely right every time we were together. And finally, the way I couldn’t bring myself to hate him, despite everything he’d done that had shown me I should.

  I think I’d known, somewhere deep in my heart, that we were soulmates. I’d known it from the moment Finn and Bryan had told me about the soulmate bond.

  From the intense way Bridget was looking at me, she knew, too. What had just happened hadn’t been an accident. She’d revealed his mark to me on purpose.

  The question was, what was I going to do about it? Unless the Nephilim army came to rescue us soon, it was impossible for this to end well.

  I couldn’t imagine my life without Julian in it. And now, I knew why.

  But this wasn’t the time to figure out where to go from there. Because my friend was bleeding out into the dirt.

  I needed to be there for Bridget.

  I ran to her side in a flash and put pressure on the wound to slow the bleeding. But it was no use. My hands were the only things keeping her intestines inside of her. The injury was fatal.

  Julian must have recovered from his shock, because he st
ood strong above us, holding his blade high above his head. The fire blazing around us flickered across his face, making him look even more determined to finish what we’d started. “I’ll make this quick,” he said. “I promise.”

  “Wait.” Bridget held out a hand to stop him. “Please.”

  He looked to me in question, his blade still raised.

  “These are her final moments,” I said, not realizing I was crying until I tasted the salt on my tongue. “If she wants us to be here for her, then that’s what we’ll do.”

  He nodded and joined me, kneeling onto the bloodied dirt and dropping his sword to the ground.

  “Why did you do it?” he asked her. “You could have fought. You could have tried to live. But instead…” He glanced at her stomach, where her blood was slipping past my fingers.

  She reached forward, grabbed my top, and pulled me toward her. “You have to win,” she said, her breaths so shallow that she could barely get the words out. “The fate of the world depends on it.”

  Before I could ask what she meant by that, her eyes clouded over. But I could still see her pupils moving underneath the haze.

  This wasn’t death.

  This was a vision.

  After about ten seconds, the haze cleared. Her gray eyes were no longer resigned.

  They were filled with a newfound determination.

  “What did you see?” Julian held onto her shoulder so tightly that it looked like he’d try to shake the answer out of her if she wasn’t bleeding out on the ground.

  “You’re hurting me,” she wheezed.

  “Sorry.” He pulled his hands away, lowering his eyes in shame.

  In a flash, she reached for the bloodied knife by her side and thrust it straight toward Julian’s heart.

  “NO!” White-hot anger shot through me as the thought of a life without Julian sped through my mind.

  A bolt of lightning struck down from the sky, hitting Bridget straight in the chest.