Page 32 of This Shattered Star

“I could name a few things that bother me,” he countered, his pointed gaze slashing from my feet to my face. “You, to begin with.”

“As if you’re any more tolerable,” Theia cut in before I could tear into him. “This is not the time or place.” A heavy reminderthat we were standing a hundred feet in the air, surrounded by thousands of prying eyes and a king that would kill us for sport. “Youof all people should know better,” she added, and the glare she gave him surely could have sent even Maverick to his knees with its ferocity alone. If it were anyone else, I would’ve pitied the person on the receiving end. But Kodhan certainly deserved it.

The competitor wedged between the swinging axes held out one arm horizontally, careful not to get it chopped off in the process. In his palm, his tiny flame sputtered into something that resembled a ball. His brow lowered in concentration and his teeth dug into his lower lip. On the next swing of the axe-pendulum directly in front of him, he tossed the ball of flame, aiming it for where he would need to step next. Steam rose from the path in faint, curling whisps.

“He’s melting the ice,” I remarked quietly.

Kodhan scoffed. “He’s notmeltinganything. He’s lucky he’s doing anything at all with the way he’s tossing his fire around.”

He was right. The man missed his next two attempts, his fire either too weak or his inability to master it impinging on his ability to throw it where he needed it. Albeit slower than he’d started, he plowed on, traversing the length of the path. One of his allies followed suit.

The ice didn’t stay melted for long. It frosted over again in seconds. The next person who followed closely behind had to repeat the fire-step-fire motion after each axe, meaning everyone that crossed after him would need to as well. His flames were equally as weak, if not more so. In some places he had to shoot the ice with fire twice to get it fully melted.

It was shortly after that third person began crossing that the first man began kicking his leg vehemently, shouting a slew of curses. We couldn’t see his face anymore, not with how far ahead he was. But each kick caused him to teeter dangerously betweenthe swinging axes at his back and front. With all his focus directed on keeping himself rod-straight, his flames guttered out completely, leaving us all blind to what was happening. Only a faint outline of his form remained.

His allies called out behind him, but the man ignored them completely, continuing to yell with increased fervor. His entire body then jerked to the side as if his leg had beenyanked.

A collective gasp resonated from the crowd above, followed by lesser hollers of outrage while others squealed in delight.

He caught himself on the edge of the path just in time, dangling with nothing but the sheer force of his fingertips. But it was no use. Judging by the strain on his body, something was trying to pull him into the darkness below.

His ally shot forward without thinking, extending a hand to help.

He realized his mistake too late. There was no time to pull back.

An axe hit him, straight across his middle.

The roar of the audience was ear-piercing, but the sound of his body as the axe sliced him deeply enough to practically cut him clean in half reverberated across the kingdom.

His body went soaring, plunging into the darkness below just as his ally lost his own battle, his fingers unable to withstand both his weight and the strength of what pulled at him. His grip slipped, and down he went, his angry cry blending into those from above.

Brannon cleared his throat once. Twice. “Any chance you can ask the king to let us sit aside for this one?” he teased.

My eyes briefly fluttered closed. Behind my eyelids, I cursed the gods. Then I cursed the stars, the entire population of Aedreath, and most importantly, the king who was at fault for this entire mess.

When I was done cursing, I splayed my hands out in front of me, and gave him a tight smile. “Of course. While I am at it, I’ll be sure to request a new pair of boots for you, too.”

CHAPTER NINE

The remaining four grew far more vigilant after the deaths of the first two. One out of those four happened to have stronger flames than the rest, easing the burden of lighting the way for the other three. It was impossible for her to melt the ice under all their feet at once—it was too risky for the others to avoid getting burnt. Regret burned brightest in the determined set of her jaw.She should have gone first.

She could, however, aim that fire at what attacked their ankles. And she was spectacular at it.

Her flames illuminated the culprits. Decaying, moth-eaten vines, perhaps once green but now a lifeless, dull mixture of yellowed brown and ashy grey. They were rotten only in appearance, still strong enough to latch onto whoever wasn’t paying enough attention.

Each time the vines shot out, she shot back with just as much vigor, the former loosening an eerie hissing noise as the flames touched them. When she missed, the fingers in her opposite hand twitched, reminding me of a conductor at the head of a symphony. Taming them with another element, I realized, as the movement of the vines grew sloppier. Slower. A true demonstration of what it meant to partake in the Starlight Trials. Master every element. Use them to survive.

And most importantly, weaponize them. Use them as a means to destruction and victory.

She managed to protect her three remaining allies, all of them placing their faith in her capabilities. Reserving their own magic for what was to come.

“They will not survive long,” Kodhan surmised, face unreadable.

“They will be the ones we need to avoid,” I corrected him.

“Not if I handle them first.”

Brannon interlocked his fingers behind his head. “And the real fun begins.” The gesture was casual, but the tightness along his shoulders was unmistakable. He was more than ready for a fight.