Chapter 19 The Slayer Apprentices
Silas and Thorne rise, turning and walking out the double doors without another word.
“Mother, can I—”
Serena waves Zaries to silence again, refusing to look at him. “Be gone from my sight, Zaries Carpathian. Try to survive for the longevity of the kingdom you’re abandoning, if not for me.”
Zaries’ eyes darken as he steps past her, following Thorne and Silas. His rage radiates from him like heat from a fire. Malachi’s close on his heels, walking proudly behind his prince.
Sylvain and her partner exit after them, both stoic and stiff as they walk toward fate.
Oberon moves to leave, but I stay stuck in place. I’m rooted to the spot by Serena’s stare, a heartbreaking sight as tears stream down her flawless face. She doesn’t wipe them away, doesn’t try to stop her bottom lip from trembling. When she says I betrayed her, she means it. Her heart is breaking in front of my eyes.
“I’ll make you proud, Serena,” I promise her.
Oberon puts his hands on my shoulders and slowly guides me away, but I turn my neck to see her as long as I possibly can. Her lips part, her hand lifting slowly to reach for me before the double doors swing closed and my view of the queen is gone.
I walk beside Oberon in a confused daze, unsure why I mean so much to her and why she shunned her own flesh and blood. Would Zaries hate me so much if his own mother didn’t favor me, a simple handmaid? Or was that emotion forged three years ago in the crucible of the choice I made?
My mind is reeling as we step into the courtyard, but the gale force winds that smack me in the face sober me quickly. The storm outside is so powerful that it seems to be raining sideways, the wind whipping so hard that my braid pulls away from my neck and I stagger backward for a moment. Much to my surprise, all of our belongings are in the courtyard. They’ve been loaded on the backs of donkeys, except for one large pack beside each one.
This isn’t how it’s supposed to go.
Our things are supposed to be on top of the mountain already, carried by alicorns.
And this uneasy feeling is the last thing I want to be adding to this fate-deciding scenario.
The others are already beside a donkey, their shoulders hunched as attendants strap a heavy bag to their backs. Rain saturates everything from clouds so low and dark, the courtyard is nothing but shades of gray.
“The alicorns aren’t taking everything up?” I ask, frowning.
“Even a dragon could not fly in this, Anara,” Thorne says, appearing at my side with a loud click of his staff.
As if to prove his point, a gust of wind slams into my back, followed by another into my front. I look up at the aged dragon slayer, vague images tickling the edges of my consciousness. When I came out of the portal he was there… He said something… Yet whatever that was is whipped away as the next bluster slaps me in the face.
Thorne turns his head to me as I scrutinize him, giving me a sly smile. “This year, each of you will be responsible for a donkey as well as all your belongings. If the donkey falls to its death, you will surely follow.”
“You’ve got to be kidding,” Malachi roars, throwing his bag on the ground and shoving an attendant out of the way as he storms up the courtyard stairs to face off with Thorne. “That pass is a deathtrap as it is. Taking these beasts with us is suicide!”
“Are you saying you’re not strong enough, Malachi?” Thorne’s grin turns to a full-blown predatory smile as Malachi balks. “That you, the tallest and strongest boy in all of Amaranthine, cannot carry a pack and lead an animal without dying?”
“You want us all to die, don’t you?” Malachi spits fiercely, jabbing his forefinger into Throne’s chest for emphasis.
“Some champions always lose their lives on the way up the mountain. If that’s you, I’ll be overjoyed.” Thorne snarls, knocking Malachi’s hand away from his chest.
“I’ll make you eat your words, old man,” Malachi swears, turning and storming back over to his assigned donkey, his boots splashing water in every direction. Ripping his pack from the hands of the attendant, he slings it over his shoulders.
Thorne chuckles as if he can see all of this, and again turns to me. “I have more faith in you, a maid, making it up that mountain than I do for him.” Rain slicks over the bandage covering his useless eyes, darkening it and his hair. “Prove me right, young one, and you’ll be rewarded.”
“You want him to die?” I hiss, confused.
“Don’t you?”
If the man’s eyes were visible, I swear he’d be winking at me.
My blood runs cold as Thorne descends the stairs and moves to the gateway of the courtyard. Beyond him, and rising impossibly high into the sky, is Dragon Mount. The storm hides the peak from our sight. Even the towers and turrets of the Stormcoast castle are shrouded in gray clouds. Lightning splits the sky, flaring our destination in bright contrast to the dark skies behind the mountain.
“One year, everyone made it to the top,” Oberon tells me, squeezing my shoulder reassuringly.
“One year, no one did.” I slip out from under his grasp and walk toward one of the attendants still holding a pack. I don’t know if it’s my pack or someone else’s, but at this point, it doesn’t much matter.
“Are you ready for your destiny, miss?” the young man asks, his brown eyes wide with wonder even in Mother Nature’s onslaught. He has dirty blond hair plastered to his forehead, his green eyes sparkling with joy.
“I’m ready for whatever this day has in store for me,” I answer, kneeling so he can strap the pack on my back.
“I’m so excited I get to go,” he says animatedly, adjusting the weight so it sits squarely on my shoulders. “We all are. There’s so much to bring that we needed extra donkeys!”
“What? How old are you? You shouldn’t be allowed to even look at the path!”
“I’m fifteen, miss, but it’s alright. We all signed up. No one is making us go. This might be the only chance we have to see the path before we attempt the Trial ourselves. In a way, it’s like cheating!” He mimes a shushing movement with his forefinger over his lips and leans in close. “I’m going to memorize every single stone.”
I’m too stunned to speak as he hands me the rope to my donkey. Rain runs down my face in rivers, cold and merciless. Just like the climb will be.
“My name is Calder, by the way,” he says excitedly.
“Anara,” I whisper.
Calder nods. “I know who you are, you’re kinda famous. I had to give away my father’s family crest ring for the chance to be your attendant. But don’t worry, I made sure all your stuff is safe and secure, and I even repacked your bag to make sure it’s well balanced.”
“Thank you?” I mutter, not sure if I should feel thankful or annoyed that the boy went through my things.
“Are you ready, Anara? They’ve already started heading out,” Oberon says, stepping up beside me. He’s stooped, his bag obviously cumbersome. More lightning flashes and the donkey brays in alarm, tugging on his rope. Oberon tightens his grip. His resolute face suggests he’s doing the same with his resolve.
I decide I’m thankful to have Calder to manage my supplies. Everything seems much better packed than Oberon’s. I hoist the heavy load a little higher as I turn in the direction of the trail. “I’m ready.”
I say the words with determination.
With steel laced through them.
Hoping they’re not a lie.