And Briony always got to be the hero.
They’d screamed at each other after that. Briony had cried. At one point, both of them had resorted to petty cursefire, leaving Isobel with a magickal breakout and a nasty headache.
And somehow, their fight wasn’t the worst part of Isobel’s evening.
The worst part was when her father had gathered the other Macaslans together and gleefully quoted Isobel that same article. When they decided that she would formally be their champion.
* * *
“This is nonsense, Briony,” Isobel snapped in the Castle, so loudly that Alistair tripped and smacked into a suit of armor along the wall. “Save us? Where have I heard you talk about saving people before?”
Briony flinched. “This isn’t—”
“If you felt this way, then why did you kill Carbry?”
Isobel hadn’t been absolutely certain it was Briony who killed him, but Briony, not Gavin, was the one with blood on her hands. And the horrified look on her face confirmed it.
“It was self-defense,” Briony whispered. Tears welled in her eyes, and for a heartbeat, Isobel really did feel like she was back in her bedroom, having the same argument with her best friend. But Briony Thorburn had destroyed her life. She didn’t get to cry. “Look, I’m not asking you to believe me, if you can’t right now. Elionor didn’t. But I am asking for time to prove my theory. I only need to match one Relic to the right Landmark to prove the curse can be unraveled.”
Her eyes flickered to Isobel’s Cloak, and Isobel squeezed it tighter around herself. She wasn’t willing to give up something so powerful just to soothe Briony’s feelings. Briony might’ve saved her life, but Isobel was returning that favor by sparing her tonight. She didn’t owe Briony any more than that.
“Elionor and Finley won’t wait for you to test your theory,” Isobel told her coolly. “While you’re searching for these perfect combinations, they’ll attack.”
“The Castle is impenetrable without the Crown,” Briony said. “We’ll be safe here. And they’ll be safe out there.”
Isobel picked at the dried blood beneath her fingernails—Alistair’s blood. She was covered in it, and she kept replaying the moment when she’d thought he’d died. The night air cold, his hands colder. The only sound her own voice pleading in the dark.
And Alistair wasn’t even the boy who had died tonight.
She didn’t believe Briony, didn’t trust Briony. But more than her own grudge, Isobel couldn’t keep living in a fantasy. She had never wanted to be champion, but she was now. They all were.
Isobel would do what it took to survive. And in the tournament, the only way to survive was to win.
“Look,” Briony breathed, “if there’s even a chance, don’t we owe it to ourselves to try to save one another? To end the curse?”
Briony glanced desperately toward the boys, clearly looking for backup. But Gavin stared at his shoes, while Alistair checked his reflection in a helm mounted on the wall, licked his hand, and rubbed the grime off his cheek.
“We’ve agreed to a truce for tonight,” Isobel told her. “But Alistair and I aren’t staying.”
To her right, she felt Alistair’s gaze on her, but his expression was clouded, and he didn’t voice any disagreement.
“You have to stay,” Briony gasped. “I need help to test my theory. Everyone else already abandoned me.”
“Did they? Or did you lie to them, betray them, and ruin their lives, too?”
Briony blinked back the last of her tears. “So that’s it, then? You’ll just go back to plotting to kill everyone? To kill me?”
Her expression was so ugly that for the first time, Isobel was grateful to be a Macaslan. Had she not scrubbed every hateful piece of graffiti off of her mother’s shop, had she not joined her family to collect the magick at each funeral, then seeing that disdain on her best friend’s face might’ve broken her.
“I don’t want to kill you,” Isobel murmured. “I never did, and I still don’t.”
“Then I can make it easy for you. If you help me and I turn out to be wrong about breaking the curse, then you won’t have to hunt me down—any of you. I-I’ll forfeit myself.”
Behind Briony, Gavin snorted. “You say that now. But once it all turns out to be bullshit, I have a feeling you’ll change your mind.”
“I won’t,” Briony said firmly.
Isobel wasn’t so sure. Briony had already proved herself to be a liar.