She was going to ask about Innes. And once the spell was cast, Briony wouldn’t be able to lie.
Briony ripped her hand away. “Wait.”
“What?” Isobel asked warily.
“I—I need to tell you something, and I don’t want to do it because of the spell.”
Isobel’s words were slow and cold. “What did you do?”
Briony winced—from Isobel’s complete lack of surprise, from the pain of what she was about to confess. But something inside her had been breaking since the moment she saw Carbry’s body. No, since the moment she’d picked up that ring and slid it on her finger. She had cracked just like the Champions Pillar. And even though she knew a confession would not absolve what she’d done, she needed to lift the burden from her shoulders before it could be lifted for her.
“Innes didn’t give me the title of champion,” Briony whispered. “I stole it.”
Again, Isobel did not look surprised. “How? I watched Innes carve her name into the Pillar.”
“I took her ring.” Briony didn’t have to explain that she’d taken the finger with it. Isobel knew those rings could not be removed. And as horror spread across Isobel’s face, Briony whimpered, “I-Innes would’ve died if I hadn’t. I was only trying to save her.”
“Like you saved me when you forced me to become champion?” Isobel advanced on her, gripping the Truth or Treachery spellstone. “Face it, Briony. The only person you care about is yourself.”
“That isn’t true. If I’d only cared about myself, I would’ve sent those reporters information about me. Made it impossible for my family to pick anyone but me as champion.”
“Well, I wish you had. Why the fuck didn’t you do that?”
Briony hesitated. She’d thought about this dozens of times since Innes had been chosen over her.
“I couldn’t believe they would choose anyone else,” she said finally.
“Of course you couldn’t,” Isobel sneered.
Briony swallowed her anger. Swallowed her pride. After everything that had happened, she didn’t want to lose this flimsy alliance, too. Even though part of her feared it was already gone. The Isobel she had known wasn’t the girl standing before her, hardened by a year of training and media attention. She was sharper. Bolder. Crueler.
“I’m sorry, Iso,” Briony said. The nickname made her old friend tense up. “I really am. I thought you wanted this, too. And I regret doing that to you. Every day.”
For a moment, Isobel seemed to waver. “I … I don’t know how I could ever forgive you.”
“I’m not asking for forgiveness,” Briony said. “I just want you to help me stop this. Cast your spell on me. I’m ready. You’ll see I’m not lying about ending the tournament. Then I can make it right. We can both walk out of here. And none of that stuff will matter anymore.”
For a moment, Isobel stared at the amethyst spellstone in her hand, still glowing white. Then she shook her head and tucked it into her pocket.
“I don’t care if you think you’re telling the truth,” she said. “You still made me champion. You still killed Carbry.”
“I didn’t mean to kill Carbry,” she spoke into the broken silence. Her words echoed off the stone walls, the high ceilings. I didn’t mean, I didn’t mean, I didn’t mean—It sounded less convincing every time. “When he attacked me, I rebounded his enchantment back at him. I didn’t know it was a death curse.”
“Even so,” said Isobel, “That doesn’t change what you’ve done. You don’t get to erase the impact of your choices by justifying them with some slim chance that it might lead to things changing for the better.”
“I’m not trying to erase anything. I’m going to be a hero. I’m going to save everyone—”
“You’re the only champion with a kill. You’re so determined to make this tournament about you. So much that you forced yourself in where you didn’t belong. So much that you don’t care who gets in your way, or what happens to them if they do. No one in here is a hero—least of all you.”
It was rare Briony didn’t have something to say, but she was at a loss for words right now. Because she couldn’t refute any of Isobel’s points. And because there was a new thought forming in her mind, or maybe a very old thought, one that she couldn’t ignore any longer.
This tournament wasn’t a place for heroes. It never had been. All the grand deeds her family had celebrated had been bloodshed just like this. And they could call it what they wanted, but Briony knew what they really were.