Acotar and Tog [Discontinued, Will be deleted]

The Third Trial

“Your final task, Feyre,” Amarantha said pointing at the concealed victims. “Stab each of these unfortunate souls in the heart. They’re innocent - not that it should matter to you since it wasn’t a concern the day you killed Tamlin’s poor sentinel. And it wasn’t a concern for dear Jurian when he butchered my sister. But if it’s a problem… well, you can always refuse. Of course, I’ll take your life in exchange, but a bargain’s a bargain, is it not? If you ask me, though, given your history with murdering our kind, I do believe I’m offering you a gift.”

I felt Feyre’s heart sink further and further into that pit of despair with each new word of torture Amarantha gave. She couldn’t do it. She wasn’t going to. Her convictions would not let her and I could feel how much it crippled her very soul to even consider the possibility.

But then… she moved and she picked up the dagger with a heavy hand in front of the first victim, her mind full of Tamlin and what the sacrifice would be worth. The only way to convince herself it was worth it no matter what it might cost her later.

“Not so fast,” Amarantha clicked merrily and the guards unmasked the first faerie, a male with a crumpling face not ready to meet his death. “That’s better. Proceed, Feyre, dear. Enjoy it.”

My hands clenched with hatred. I hated her. I hated her so much for twisting the dagger into Feyre so much further than was necessary.

“Please,” the male faerie begged. “Please.” His voice was ragged, weak as he pleaded repeatedly while Feyre lifted the dagger trying to rationalize the death with thoughts of Tamlin and the faeries around her she would free. One life for the sake of many.

And she could not do it. It was too much, too heavy on her heart.

I winnowed on the spot re-appearing to the side of the dias where the throne sat so that she could see me. Tamlin wouldn’t help her, perhaps ever, that much he’d made clear even if it made no sense to me. So once more, just as I had at her second trial, I would be her shelter, her guide. The only difference was that this time, I didn’t wait to see if Tamlin would even try first.

I tugged on the bond between us forcing my thoughts into her mind. Do it, I said sternly just as the male faerie begged, “Don’t… Please!”

Feyre plunged the dagger into his heart and I cracked into his mind, taking away the pain so that only shock and a forced scream were left before he fell to the floor. The knife fell from Feyre’s hand with a soul-shattering crash. Blood dripped from her hand as she wept and somewhere in the crowd, a woman wailed.

I swallowed. It was nothing like the Middengard Wyrm or the puzzle on the wall, but it was by far the worst punishment Feyre would have to endure of them all.

“Very good,” Amarantha said. “Now the next. Oh, don’t look so miserable, Feyre. Aren’t you having fun?”

As the second victim - a female this time - was unmasked, I finally felt what I had prayed and begged and bargained with the Cauldron never to let me feel: I felt Feyre break.

Her heart tore and with every rip, mine went with it. The female faerie chanted a prayer to the gods that erased the last traces of Feyre’s spirit, the spirit I loved to watch fight and sting. It was dying. Tears spilled freely onto her face, each one an icy slap where the sting would never disappear. “I’m sorry,” she sobbed to the girl still wrestling with her thoughts as to whether or not she could do it.

And still, Tamlin said nothing.

It wasn’t right. How could he sit there even now and offer her nothing? How many who barely knew her, had no reason to trust her, had given her aid at some point in the last three months so she could save him? I knew he loved her. It was plain as day when I’d visited his manor in the Spring Court and found her glamoured from sight. His actions to have me spare her proved his ardent love for Feyre. There was no way that the Tamlin I knew who felt so much love for Feyre could sit idly by and watch, could merely sit…