“Why?” asked Briony. The others looked at her with mild annoyance, and Briony realized that she wasn’t included in this conversation.
“No one wants the Lowes to win,” said Elionor bluntly, responding anyway. “And the Grieve champion doesn’t have a chance. If we work together, we can eliminate them easily.”
“What about the Macaslans?”
Elionor scowled. “Vermin.”
Briony’s chest flared with anger, but before she could defend Isobel, Innes cleared her throat.
“So this is an alliance?”
Finley nodded. “We have resources, Innes. Work with us, and we’ll protect you. We know you’re loyal to your family…” He trailed off pointedly. Briony winced. “But that loyalty doesn’t have to mean you do this alone. You’re a talented spellcaster, and Elionor is strong in crafting. We’d make a great team.”
Teaming up was a good idea. It would keep Innes alive longer, give her protection at least for a while. Admittedly, Briony wouldn’t have sought out such a mismatched group herself. Innes was talented, certainly, but Elionor’s flirtation with the press and Carbry’s reputation, or rather lack thereof, didn’t seem like Finley’s style. Still Finley clearly had a strategy, and it would be better for Innes than no alliance at all.
Innes’s gaze had clouded over. “No thanks. I don’t need your help.”
“What?” Briony turned toward her sister, unable to hold her tongue. “Innes, think about this.”
“I have thought about it,” Innes said evenly. “My answer is still no.”
Elionor’s eyes narrowed. “Your mistake.”
Elionor and Carbry both turned to leave, but Finley lingered a moment longer. He fixed his gaze intently on Innes, as though unwilling to look at Briony.
“Understand this,” he said quietly. “Blairs, we have a code. We’re loyal to our allies at all costs. But if you decide not to join us, I will not hesitate to cut you down.”
Finley had talked about his family’s code so often that Briony wasn’t sure he could get through a conversation without mentioning it. Clearly, her ex hadn’t changed at all.
Then Innes took a step back, and Briony realized with a stab of panic that her sister looked … intimidated. Weak.
She couldn’t let Finley and the others leave like this. They’d target Innes the first night—she wouldn’t last an hour.
“Not if she cuts you down first,” Briony said coolly.
Finley finally met her eyes, and now that he did Briony saw a crack beneath his careful gaze. The longer he took her in, the more his rigid posture relaxed. “Well, I weighed my choices. I hope you’re happy with yours.”
Then Finley strutted away and joined his allies on the moors, the wind whipping at Elionor’s dark hair as they walked the hiking trail back to town.
As soon as they were out of earshot, Briony turned to Innes. “What the hell were you thinking? An alliance would help you.”
Innes’s voice was distant and calm. “You need to stop speaking for me, Briony.”
“But—”
“No. I know you had a way you were planning to do this. But I won’t win this tournament if I use your strategies. I need to find my own path.”
“You won’t get the chance to do that if you don’t make it through the first night.”
“Trust me,” Innes snapped. “I will. I’m the champion, okay? You have to accept that.”
“But you don’t want it—”
“It doesn’t matter.” Firm as her voice sounded, her expression looked broken. “I don’t have a choice.”
The conversation lapsed into silence, but Briony’s thoughts had never been so loud. The Thorburns had made a huge mistake letting someone outside their family choose the champion.
And Innes would pay for it.
Furious and frustrated, Briony wondered if it would be Finley who killed her little sister. Or Isobel. Or the Lowe champion.
Maybe that book was right. Maybe this really was all messed up.
Briony had begun her research hoping to save her sister, but now she realized she’d been asking too small a question. She didn’t just want to find some loophole to strike down Finley or Isobel on the battlefield. She didn’t want the outside world hedging bets on which of these people she’d grown up with lived or died.
Innes had called the tournament a pattern. Patterns could be disrupted.
Reid had called it a machine. Machines could be broken.