crackle from their posts at the top of the stadium. I glance up, surprised by the detail put into the woodwork. Flags with the Spring and Summer Court sigils dance in the light breeze, and beneath the flaming posts, woodland animals and flowers have been carved.
A door at the base of the stadium is held partly open, and I’m surprised to see my mother and the Spring Court Queen waiting alongside Hellebore.
Eclipsa gives my arm a firm squeeze. “Once you show your powers, be careful. Hell uses a wicked scorpion spell that can incapacitate your magic for hours.” She squeezes again. “See you afterward.”
I watch them disappear around the side of the stadium and then face my opponent. Hellebore strides up to me, hands in his pockets, smiling as if we’re not about to fight to the death. “Someone looks ready to fight. It’s adorable.”
“Fuck you.” I turn my back on him, refusing to spare any more breath for him.
He chuckles at my back. “I think the proper words you’re looking for are, mercy. I invoke mercy. Remember those words. You’ll need them very soon.”
Hellebore slips inside the entrance, and I turn to face the two Seelie queens.
Hellebore’s aunt wears a daffodil-yellow dress. The long hem seems to glide a few inches off the ground, and I quickly realize to my horror that the buzzing comes from a swarm of fat bumblebees. The poor creatures are tied to the ends, their little wings beating hard as they try to escape.
I know exactly how they feel.
Her teeth glitter in the torchlight as she appraises me. She takes in my uniform—the one Zinnia made and the brownies recently fixed—her cold gaze working to strip away any confidence I managed to conjure.
I almost breathe a sigh of relief as she turns that sharp stare on my mother. “Do not expect mercy from my nephew, Aster.”
My mother’s fierce grin mirrors the Spring Queen’s. “I would never dream of it, Forsythia.”
The way they say one another’s names and the familiarity in their tones surprises me, their mutual animosity for each other hinting at a longstanding feud. Not for the first time, it comes to me that despite living with her for three months, I still know almost nothing about my mother.
Her friends, her ambitions, what she wants with me.
“When she dies,” the Spring Queen says, all business, “we contractually own half of her soulstone. Do not even think about trying to hide it from us.”
“The idea never even crossed my mind,” my mother purrs.
Honestly, after listening to them talk about me like two heirs fighting over an inheritance, I didn’t think this moment could get any worse.
That is, until the Spring Queen leaves and my mother takes me aside. “Win or lose, no mercy. Understand?”
Her meaning takes hold, and with it comes a stinging hurt that I cover behind an emotionless nod. If I lose and ask for mercy, that shame would be worse for her than my death.
She reaches out, I think to comfort me . . . until her fingers brush the chain of my soulstone, tucked inside my suit.
“Good,” she murmurs. “Has your magic awakened?”
I bite my lip, but there’s no reason now to lie since she’s going to figure this out in literally a couple minutes anyway. “Yes.”
“Yes?” Her shocked eyes drift to my wrist. For a brief, confusing second, anger ripples over her well-controlled mask. “Where is the bracelet I gave you?”
I rub my wrist, trying to control my own anger. I’m about to fight for my life and she’s worried about a piece of jewelry? “Locked away in my room. I didn’t want to chance it getting damaged.”
“I rarely give gifts, Hyacinth, but I personally oversaw the design of that piece. It represents our renewed relationship, and hopefully, someday our mutual . . . affection for one another.”
“I’ll wear it next time.”
The dark emotion drains from her face, and then she gestures to the long hallway leading to the stadium. “Remember, you represent the Summer Court.”
As if I could ever forget, I don’t say. Instead I give another clipped nod before jogging toward the sound of cheers. Right before I push past the final door, something streaks from the shadows. My nerves, frayed as they are, have me seconds from blasting the figure with flaming magic.
That is until I catch sight of the magenta hair. Ruby slams into me, her little arms wrapping around my neck. “I’m going with you, Kid.”
“How did you get out?” Last time I saw