His face was bruised; deep yellows and greens speckled his skin. Fresh blood poured from his nose onto the wood, some oozing down into the tunnel. His breath was labored, and his eyes were closed. Emory could hear the crowd’s excited murmur, and she concentrated. To her left, another staircase twisted up to meet a small cellar door, its latch hanging undone before her.
Her way out.
Palms clammy, she took a step forward, and that’s when a silky voice rang out, making Emory freeze and silencing the crowd immediately - “Today, I have gathered you from your duties to bring you before this rebel traitor.”
Jeers sounded, and Memphis was shoved to the ground, his face colliding with the floorboards.
Emory clutched her knife and waited.
“Many years have passed, and we as a kingdom have flourished. We have weeded out anyone whose beliefs remained in the past—what the Academy stood for. Power demands to be earned, not handed out to anyone. What are the words we live by?”
“All of might,” was chanted back at him.
“Exactly. Until recently, I thought I had buried the Academy with the Faes. Though somehow, the rebel scum survived. This man, their leader, must pay. What is left of the rebels must learn that I, their king, is the only one who is to rule.”
The drums started once more, low and soft, and Memphis was roughly grabbed by his bound hands, and directed by the guard, they left, heading into the pit.
And out of Emory’s line of sight.
Hurry, Alby.
She jumped up on the staircase and shoved her face against the gap, craning her neck to see. She stayed there awkwardly perched and waiting for the right moment.
Hold. Gingerly positioning her shoulder against the cellar door, tensing her muscles, she waited to shove through it.
That’s when she felt hot breath against the nape of her neck, making her hairs stand on end. She turned around and bit down hard on her lip to stop her from screaming. The beast was easily the size of a horse, thick coarse black fur covering its body. Its claws were as long as swords, digging into the dirt. Behind him, three soldiers stood with spears prodding him along. Those eyes—a deep opaque silver flickered as his long snout sniffed her. Ears like wolves flattened against his head, and a growl like thunder started in his chest.
The soldiers froze as they spotted her.
Adair’s voice continued, “As a public execution, this rebel will be faced against a beast found in the mines...”
Cheers started from the onlookers; Emory felt sick.
“And let it be known that the resistance will never survive against me!”
She took her cue: slamming her weight against the door, it exploded open, and she threw herself out, a roar following at her heels. Move, Emory.
Blinking hard, she spotted Memphis in the middle of the sandy pit, hundreds of soldiers surrounding it. She ran, adjusting to the light change. Memphis’s usually blond hair was ridden with dirt and blood. She couldn’t meet his gaze.
But there was only one person she was looking for.
Across the arena, a man with pitch black hair sat on a throne made of bones. His eyes never wavered from her unexpected appearance, as Emory sprinted full tilt toward Adair. Throwing the hat off, her black hair loosened behind her, as she pumped her arms harder.
“ADAIR!” His name ripped through her throat, the thundering of the beast following behind her.
Standing, a flurry of emotion quickly crossed Adair’s face.
There is no going back now.
“Adair, I’ve come to join you!” At those words, her heart erupted into flames, turning quickly to ash, and chaos broke across the stadium.
Chapter Forty-Two
Memphis
His hands and arms had turned numb. He heard the roar and, glancing up, was sure to see his death. Instead, he saw Emory. She was an angel inside this eternal darkness, black hair flying behind her as she ran, screaming his name.
This was torture, and it ripped fresh through him, unhinging everything. He had never thought it would be Emory that would break his resilience. Adair had tried his best, truly. But he was a stone; he had led Black Dawn to this fate, and the guilt layered upon him was fresh and constant.
But Emory? She was supposed to survive. To live.
He couldn’t do anything more than stare as she hurtled toward him screaming, “Adair, I have come to join you!”
What?
Screams erupted around him, and he felt an unnatural wind pick up. Looking up, the bronze sand was funneling, forming a tornado, and growing in force with every passing second. His mind was chaos. He was surrounded by a ring of onlookers, but in the sea of black, Memphis spotted a man with fiery orange hair. Alby?
He was staring at Emory with visible hatred, and bringing his arms together, he clapped once, his lips moving as he did so. It was as if the world had split open. Five tornados crashed into the stadium, destroying it within seconds. Debris and bodies soared through the air as Memphis was frozen in fear. The beast that would have been his end was sucked up in the cyclone, roaring helplessly.
Emory had almost reached Adair.
All this time, she was just waiting for this moment.
“Memphis!”
His name brought him slamming back into reality as Alby materialized beside him; bruised and bloodied. “You have to come with us. My brother is waiting!”
He could feel himself shake his head, craning back to catch a glance at Emory.
“Now, Memphis! Forget about her!” Nyx appeared, eyes hard.
She unbound his restraints and shoved him upward, and as she did, Alby grabbed his hand, a refreshing coolness washing over him. This sensation had only been described to him before, but he had never experienced it.
Alby had turned them invisible.
Hushed voices encircled him, and he felt their group lurch forward. He was aware Nyx was behind him, prodding him along if he faltered. The screaming never stopped. They maneuvered out of the pit, entering a long winding staircase up to their
