Within the Walls

Chapter 27

There is an uproar of cheers and the unsettling roll of applause.

"Larissa," I say. "I'm scared."

"I know." She pulls me into a hug. "You're a storm, Elle. Show them thunder."

"And so, without further ado, let's welcome the Red Leaf herself into court: Elle Fallon!" Sneya bellows.

The doors let out a deep shuddering boom as they ease open, and the bright light of the courtroom engulfs me. I stand stock-still for a moment, my heart skipping a beat at the sheer sight of the magnificent room. As I walk into the middle of the room, I almost gawk. The floor is white with an intricately painted design at the centre and the ceiling is at least two stories above me. Bronze bleachers border both sides of the room. People dress in gowns and suits.

Lord Sneya stands in the centre of the courtroom. He wears polished armour. Plates protect his chest, arms, and shins. Sneya clutches a helmet with an intricate hawk-like design as if meant to terrify the enemy. With the point at the floor, and the hilt at his waist is my sword, despite himself, he has had it polished. Suddenly, I know I am underdressed. My cotton attire is no match against his steel armour. The realisation must make it to my face as he grins in triumph.

"Welcome, Elle," he booms, his green eyes glinting with malice in the light of the grand chandelier.

Despite my lack of height, I stand taller, puffing out my chest, raising my chin. "You must feel quite brave, Sneya," I muse walking further into the room, closer to him. "With your armour and cheering Concaves."

His jaw clenches. "I could say the same thing about you, Elle, with your... gift."

"The difference between you and me, Sneya, is that I don't use my advantage against the weak."

Sneya bursts out laughing, followed by an echo of laughter from the Concaves. I glare at them, sweeping my stony gaze around the room. I do not see Ruben among them.

Lord Sneya swings the sword around, laying the blade in his palms. He steps closer so I can see his polished face in all its detail. Someone has groomed his facial hair, and his jade eyes bore into mine. I grab my sword from him and he backs away. He knows I could kill him.

I spin the blade in a figure of eight, basking in the way it slices through the air. Sneya needs armour, but I just need my sword.

Lord Sneya pulls his helmet over his head, grips the hilt of the sword in the scabbard at his belt and slides it out. It has a narrow blade with garnets embedding the otherwise golden hilt. He swings the blade over his shoulder. I swing mine above my head; the point directed at him as I lower into a stance.

A herald then materialises between us, dressed in a white suit with a gold collar. "Ladies and gentlemen, I present Lord Sneya and the Red Leaf, Elle Fallon," he says to the crowd. "The rules of this duel are simple; disarm your opponent first, without killing them. Now, without further ado, let the duel begin!"

The crowd cheers before a hush sweeps around the room. Eyes and necks crane to see us. Sneya and I glare and circle one another. Each daring the other to strike first.

It is the snake that strikes first. He slashes the sword and I jump away, but not before the tip catches my arm. I bite back a cry. Recovering, I force my eyes to meet his and grin. I duck low and bring the blade to his calf, but the blade crash together. As I leap around him, the wound from the bullet screams in protest. I also notice the dark scruffy head of Ruben as he appears at the far end of the bleachers. Our eyes meet. In that moment of distraction, Sneya strikes in my direction, the edge catching on my healing bullet wound, reopening it in a fresh wave of agony. I let out a deep, guttural scream, doubling over. The crowd roars in triumph.

I draw in a deep, trembling breath and straighten up, hardening my gaze. I thrust the sword towards him, letting out a hiss as I strike higher, and he blocks it. We both push, pressing bodily against one another. I realise, just as it is too late, that he is stronger than me. I lose my grip on the sword and it skids across the marble floor. We pause, both registering. Sneya strikes again. The blade cuts into my forehead and I cry out. I leap back, using my peripheral vision to calculate how far away my sword is and begin making my way over.

Sneya slashes and jabs at me, each time missing with my now attuned and quickened reflexes. The Concaves shriek in protest as we near the bleachers and I grin. I duck, swinging my legs around, all the while risking the blade. My legs catch on Sneya's shins and he curses as he loses balance, toppling backwards and losing the grip of his sword. We both watch as the sword slides several feet away and we pause as we analyse the situation. But I am quicker. As I snatch it up and spin around, my boot connects with Sneya's chest, sending him sprawling back to the floor. I wipe the blood from my cheek, red smearing on my hand. I point his sword at his throat, grazing the delicate skin.

"Don't. Move, Sneya."

Then I register the deafening silence, save for my erratic breathing and the blood rushing past my ears.