“Great. Sounds like you have a solid plan. So, why don’t you go get it?”
“Because I, my dear, have no physical form.” He holds out his shadow hands. He couldn’t carry a book. “And besides,” he continues in a low hiss, “that would be no fun.”
Of course. The wraith is only here for the intrigue. They enjoy the suffering of others.
“So you, a wraith, are here hoping tosave the world?”
“I care not for the cure.”
“Then why are you here?” I say slowly, firmly.
He rushes forward, shadows swirling around me. “I am looking for you,” the shadows whisper around me. “The Shadow Court is my home, and I wish to see its power reinstated—or if not, at least make those in the seat of power squirm. I want to see the Luminescent Court’s pain and rage as you walk into the competition.”
That’s what this is all about. Not me. I’d be willing to bet they all know I am nothing close to a hero and my actions had nothing to do with their stupid blood feud—they’re just using me as an excuse.
My court was once influential and powerful, but their right to rule was stripped from them several centuries ago. They’ve been looking for revenge ever since. When I killed the next heir to the High Court, we should have ruled, they used that to fuel their rebellion.
“What competition?” I ask skeptically, measuring his words carefully.
“You will have the chance to escape your banishment entirely, but first, you must prove yourself. They won’t choose just any champion, but the high courts have agreed to allow each of the fifteen courts to choose a champion. Any champion. You are ours. Your banishment will be temporarily lifted, and you may enter the fae realm, so long as you are in the trials.”
“Trials...”
The smoke over his makeshift head curls into something like a smile. “The Trial of Thorns, to be exact.”
Rev
The moment she walksinto the banquet hall, my vision is rimmed with black. Hatred—pure hatred fills my soul, dark and unending.
My father stands and his chair flips to the floor. His expression shows rage matching my own. It’s uncommon for us to agree, ever. This evil fae is our one exception. We both hate her more than any single soul in the universe.
My mother gasps, placing a hand over her heart. Several sets of eyes dart to my family’s table at the front of the room, then back at the horrendous creature they calla countess.
She’s petite, with light blonde hair—ironic given her court is one of darkness. Her eyes are dull, dim, and I cross my arms, evaluating.
She killed my brother when she was still an adolescent. My powerful brother who was not only the heir to the Luminescent Court but the chosen heir to the High Court. He was going to be High King for a hundred years.
