“Please,” Innes choked, pushing Briony away. “Please stop. This is the last memory you’ll have of me.”
Briony gaped. “Stop? Innes, I’m trying to save you! I’m telling you how—”
“Listen to yourself.” Innes’s voice spewed out in a low, furious whisper. “Is this why you showed up late to the banquet, looking frazzled? You’ve been chasing some fantasy? I need to go and get ready.…”
“No.” Briony lunged in front of her to block her path. “You listen to me. You’re not strong enough to win this tournament—you know you’re not.”
“I’ve trained hard,” she said indignantly.
“Not as hard as the other champions. Breaking the tournament is your only chance to survive. Believe me, if I could be the one to—”
Innes barked out a laugh. “I should’ve known. This isn’t about me—it’s about you. Just like everything else. Our whole lives, you’ve been the center of attention. But now you’re not. Deal with it.”
There was an ugliness in Innes’s voice that spoke to a feeling that had been festering deep inside. A resentment Briony had never seen before.
Her words plunged a dagger through Briony. Not just because it hurt that her sister thought of her as so selfish, but because Innes was dooming herself.
Briony couldn’t watch her sister walk into a slaughter. She couldn’t. Even if Reid’s theories had offered her nothing but fragments of a solution, Briony was sure she could put the pieces together, if she were champion. She could save her sister. She could save everyone.
A feeling she couldn’t name swelled in her chest. In every story her family told, the heroes won. They made the choices no one else could. They triumphed over villains even when all hope seemed lost.
And Briony Thorburn made the perfect hero.
Her gaze flickered to the periphery of the square, where the last of the guests had departed.
They were alone.
“You’ve never wanted this, Innes,” Briony told her.
Innes lifted her chin. “But I’ll do it anyway.”
Briony advanced closer, forcing Innes to retreat beneath the shadow of the Champions Pillar. Hundreds of names were carved into it, but only one mattered to her right now: Innes’s, glowing red near the top.
“Let me take your place. Let me be champion.”
“You’re delusional. I couldn’t even if I wanted to. You’re…” Innes’s voice trailed off, her eyes brimming with tears.
But Briony didn’t relent. “I’m right. I know I am.”
“That’s enough.” Innes tried to take another step back, but her shoulder smacked against the Pillar.
If Innes wouldn’t give up her title willingly for her own good—for the good of all of Ilvernath—Briony would have to take it from her. It was the only way she wouldn’t spend her life regretting that she’d sent her sister to her death. And when Briony saved everyone, Innes would understand. One day, perhaps, she would even forgive her.
The crystal on her index finger began to glow.
“Maybe you’re stronger than some of the other champions,” Briony whispered to Innes, summoning the magick within the spellstone. “But I’m still stronger than you.”
Innes flicked her wrist as she cast a spell of her own, but Briony had a head start. And she had the perfect spell, one she’d commissioned ages ago for the tournament. Briony had always had a fondness for finding a way to put a twist on something mundane. A class two Cat Nap spell could help someone get to bed at night; a class three was a popular choice for new parents trying to calm colicky infants.
Briony’s was class seven, and it had a different name: the Deathly Slumber, because when used correctly, an opponent would be knocked into a coma-like state until the spell wore off hours later. They’d feel no pain, but they would be completely and utterly defenseless.
Briony watched, guilt rising in her, as Innes threw up a weak Mirror Image shield spell. If it had been strong enough, it would’ve rebounded the Deathly Slumber at Briony.
Instead, Briony’s spell passed right through it.
As white, glimmering magick collected across her face, Innes’s eyelids began to droop. But the betrayal on her face struck Briony straight in the heart. It was a look she would remember for as long as she lived.
You’re the only one who matters, Innes had said.
She’d been wrong. Her sister would never forgive her.
“Briony,” she croaked. “No—”