Bursting forth into the darkness, Kiran's ropes of flames spun and twisted around the courtyard, hemming them in like cattle in a field.
A mile of pure power from the Fabric, the flames separated and coiled themselves into suspended rings of heat and ash, like floating funeral pyres taunting those within its clutches. Then, in one whoosh of movement, the rings exploded upwards, almost reaching the palace rooftops until they finally stilled, towering tall and standing in severe warning to the helpless, trapped witches.
Kiran watched Imani's reaction to the fire shower he'd made with great interest, but she ignored him.
Beyond the raging sound of the fire, people started screaming. Some screamed in fear, some in bloodlust, and for Imani, everything seemed to move in slow motion.
Cracking her neck, she tried to stay calm despite her heart pounding like a war drum.
The male Norn ducked to avoid two errant spells and charged for her.
Her brow furrowed. There wasn't time to ask what the elf was doing, but fear didn't even register as he attacked. A Norn wouldn't hurt her.
A second later, he threw her to the ground, though. "Do it as fast as the first Assessment," he grunted as she lashed at his chest. He dodged it and moved to attack her again.
"I don't want to kill you," she said, drawing out her wand.
Imani could hold her own against him, but from her short time with Master Selhey, she knew if any of her kind had magic, they were powerful and well-trained.
Yet, he seemed intent on losing, and a feeling of admiration threatened to choke her as she rolled out of his feigned kick. "You don't have to do this for me," she whispered.
Sadness shone in his eyes. It made Imani angry, although not at him. With a savage cry, she slashed for one of his ankles. But he deftly stepped aside like she knew he would.
"Let me fight you for real," she shot back. Then, winding up for a hard left hook, she swung.
The elf caught her fist in his mighty grip, and she screamed in response, kicking him in the chin. His neck snapped back, pale eyes glimmering with surprise.
"You don't need to protect me," Imani repeated.
"You know the power you can wield. If you survive the Assessments, you'll be one of the only witches in a position to do something."
"Spoken like a true man who only sees value in one thing," Imani growled as they both faked a punch and a block. "I'm not as powerful as you think I am."
"The elf prince hasn't stopped staring at you since we began," he replied, glancing over his shoulder. "You intrigue him."
The weight of Kiran watching them fell on Imani's back. She didn't even need to look—but she did anyways.
Unflinching, Kiran's expression appeared unreadable. But when the male Norn grabbed her wrists from behind and slammed her chest into a nearby tree, the prince stood and cocked his head to the side.
"You're seeing what you want to see," Imani hissed over her shoulder. "It means nothing." It only meant Kiran didn't want her to die—he needed his pet to live to continue providing value.i
"Possibly," the man whispered, letting her twist out of his grip on her wrists.
The male elf didn't believe her, but this conversation was over. "Get out your wand and attack me for real. Kiran will never believe this farce," she said through gritted teeth before slamming her elbow into his face. The elf held his bloody nose, muttering a string of elvish curse words. But a second later, he drew his wand, and a blast of magic froze her limbs. Imani fell hard into the tree.
Now, this was getting serious.
Imani and the elf pretended to try to kill each other for what could have been hours—or minutes.
Eventually, though, he gave her a minuscule nod.
Tension coursed through her muscles. The crushing reality of what the elf wanted her to do made her heart pound—she had no problems with this elf and did not want to kill a fellow Norn.
He nodded again, glaring at her. But still, she didn't move. There had to be another way.
A loud screeching tore her attention away from the male Norn, and the sights and sounds from the melee reminded her that she was in the middle of a bloodbath. Imani wanted to live through the night and all the nights ahead. She had a lot to do in this realm still.
Her heart sank into her stomach.
Finally, she accepted his sacrifice and took the opening he gave her, casting a familiar spell.
The same severing enchantment from the first Assessment forced his head clean off. It rolled unceremoniously across her feet. Hot, sticky blood covered her. Smearing it out of her eyes, she leaned against the tree, panting.
From the center of the melee, gnashing teeth, growls, and spells rang through the air while dozens of witches fought for their lives. Mere yards away, the bodies of fallen witches—mainly Moorland Sprite pixies and Meadowlands Leimoniad nymphs—twitched. Between shouts of pain and blood squishing in the grass, Imani could distinctly hear the crunch of bone as the shifters chewed through the corpses.
With the madness unfolding around her, there was no doubt in her mind that the male elf made victory far easier for her tonight.
From the viewing platform, she could hear someone announcing the number of witches remaining. The princes watched on, seemingly evaluating everything everyone was doing. Their tiny smirks and shared whispers with each other made a fierce protectiveness stir in her chest.
Imani's eyes locked on the dead elf on the ground again. A pang of horror and regret tore through her insides, mixing with the potent fury and adrenaline blazing through her nerve endings.
I will make them pay for this sin someday, she thought with an agonizing internal scream.
Gripping her wand tighter, she looked away. If she stared too long, she'd lose control of her shadows.
Hide. Run and hide, Imani yelled at herself. This had been her strategy from the start—kill someone as quickly as possible, then let the others take the risk while trying to go unnoticed.
When she scanned the courtyard for an escape route, chaos assaulted her eyes—witches tearing into each other, hacking through limbs with magic, half of them using their shifted forms.
Before she could pick a direction, a massive arm slid around her waist. "Thinking of hiding like a pretty little coward?" Aidan asked as if reading her mind. He leaned in close, his body warm against hers. "I'm sure you wouldn't be so stupid—the princes won't like that at all."
Damn it. Imani slammed her eyes shut, not missing the warning in his nasty tone. She had paused too long and left herself open. Aidan emanated a dark dislike for Imani and wouldn't think twice about killing her during this Assessment. He didn't like women, especially those that even remotely threatened him.
Two choices were in front of her—either she stayed to fight Aidan, or she ran and risked him catching her anyways.
He towered over her, all muscle. Blood also dripped from his mouth, like he'd shifted and torn through several people.
She didn't like her chances, and Imani didn't have much pride in getting what she wanted. So, she went invisible, and then she ran.
Momentarily surprised, Aidan let her slip out of his grasp. His blood-red shifter eyes thinned at her invisible form. He couldn't see her, but he might be able to smell her. The feral male grinned in her direction and charged forward.
Throwing herself into the fray, she darted through the garden's center.
He was on her heels. Pushing her legs harder, she dashed away from the shifter like a phantom and lost him at the tree line around the perimeter.
A familiar form seemed to rise in the night like the moon. Stalking toward her, an imposing shadow of a man appeared with his wand raised. He let an intimidating wave of magic pour from his silhouetted form.
Kiran.
An inhuman scream rumbled from the male witch before another stream of fire burst to life. As if there wasn't enough heat from the edges, a sword of blazing light surged forward from him, cutting through the darkness.
Kiran was forcing any stragglers wishing to hide—like her—back into the melee.
Over the din of the duel, over the sounds of people ripping each other's throats out—bits of which littered underneath her feet—Kiran's cackled, elated with the ensuing mayhem.
The sound hadn't been entirely him. Something profound and unnatural layered his voice, like discordant notes playing along with a sad but beautiful melody.
She ground her molars hard. Did she imagine the unholy part of Kiran that had reared its head from inside his eyes? But now she felt confident it was indeed there. While it fascinated her, she needed to stay far away from it.
She cast another illusion spell around her and glared at the flames before turning back around.
Off to her side, a male pixie launched himself into the air in a blur of black leather and teeth. Esa stood firm against him, wings fluttering and murder in her eyes.
They circled each other, spells flying back and forth. Finally, the male turned and grabbed Esa's collar, snarling. "It's people like you who give pixies a bad name."
But instead of attacking, he screamed like a banshee and exploded a substance into the area. Particles filled the air, getting sucked into everyone's lungs like a drug.
With the wards in place, his pixie dust couldn't dissipate, and the garden filled with a thick poison. Imani's eyes blurred, and she coughed while trying to navigate to safety stealthily.
The heat was intense, and nausea hit Imani like a wall. She dropped to her knees and retched up the magic-tainted smoke.
Everything around Imani contracted. She couldn't tell what was up or down or how to walk straight. The sounds of the world around her had grown increasingly bloodthirsty. Like a nightmare come to life, everyone was screaming, and maybe she was hallucinating, but it looked like Esa was crying in a pile of blood.
A tunnel of blackness began spreading across her field of vision, dimming the light from the fires. Ignoring it, she tried to stand, but everything turned dark around her, and she snarled at the blindness.
Something possessed her body, fighting for survival, and shadows started coming out, seeping through the cracks in the flesh magic. Imani felt ripples of smoke shoot from her skin.
But then, light burst around her eyes like a flash of lightning. The pixie dust thrall fell, and she felt the magic recede at her command.
Swiveling her head, she searched for the next threat, but the courtyard had become quiet except for a few moans and errant shouting. Esa stood to the side, trying to catch her breath and wiping the gore off her face.
Dozens of Essenheim witches lay dead. It seemed to be over.
Imani panted and tried to clean herself up. Blood and mud slopped onto the ground as she wiped it off and turned in a circle.
A pixie woman was in pieces to her left, and the head of the Norn elf she'd killed earlier lay to the right. Battered and smashed, it was almost unrecognizable after sustaining damage during the melee. Nevertheless, she gingerly picked it up, intent on memorizing his last moment.
Starlight glinted off his silver hair, so much like her own. Blood leaked from the bulging lifeless eyes, and bones gleamed white where the skin had ripped off his skull. Only tendons remained around his once-beautiful mouth, exposing blunt teeth and elvish fangs.
She grabbed it.
With the head swinging in her hand, Imani stomped to the courtyard's edge. Burning flames still raged everywhere, blocking her inside.
Her eyes narrowed to slits. Then, she chucked the Norn elf's as hard as possible at the princes.
A snap of Kiran's wand blocked it. A shrill, furious scream sounded from her throat while he grinned at her like a smug madman.