Chapter 6 : The Quartering

“This is a bad plan and you should feel bad! Look, it’s not too late.” Marina placed Gundrin’s helm under her arm. “We can repent for what we’re about to do. Maybe they won’t even punish us if we walk away now!”

“Helm, please…”

We were in Lot Twenty-Five, Gundrin’s quarters to prepare before the arena gates opened and the Quartering began. Contestants were allowed to bring one confidant to help them prepare before the match, and I’d roped Marina into the plan once she spotted me dragging a prone Gundrin into his bedchambers for the night. I hadn’t realized Marina had switched to the night shift until I heard her surprised gasp, her form wobbled, the maid’s outfit losing some of its solidity as her feet melted into a puddle.

After a round of pleading and accusing her of being an accessory to all of this, she’d helped me tuck the dwarf lord into his bedding and lift his armor and brooch from his person.

That had been hours ago, and now, four hours past cock crow, with the roar of all of the two Courts above us, we lay upon the precipice of a day I’d been preparing for since the moment I’d begged Mal for those lessons in secret. Since the moment I saw the unlikely contender Uma Mullvisdottir of the dwarves win against the dryad Knight-Commander of the Light, Estella Mahoganaea. Proof that you didn’t need magical prowess to stand among the best of the guard, the King’s Guard.

“I know that look, Raquel.” Marina pinched my nose, a frown settling on her watery face. “You are not Mullvisdottir! You don’t have titanium skin and bones! You’re not able to crush boulders the size of your head with your bare hands! You are speedy, I’ll give you that, but no more than maybe the weakest of puca children. There are minotaurs here! Orcs! Ogres and nightflyers and cyclopses and bugbears—you could be killed, Raquel! Or, worse, if Lord Yicnecti catches wind of your treachery—”

“He won’t.” I tightened my gauntlets, wiggling my fingers to see if I had enough flexibility to do so. Since I couldn’t bring my blade with me—too distinguished from the rest—I had to rely upon Gundrin’s claymore. It was balanced well, but heavier than what I was used to, and required using both hands. Which put me at a disadvantage if I wanted to go for the dagger I always kept in my boot to even out the odds. “I promise, Marina, I’ll be careful. No one is going to find out. You worry for nothing.”

“I got an omen this morning. I—HEY! No!” She danced away from my hands trying to steal the horned helmet. “No groaning! Listen, my omens are never wrong!”

“Your omens are commonplace.” I blew my bangs out of my face counting each point with a flexed finger. “A rooster will lay a black egg, ignoring the fact that we’ve had a basilisk infestation heart rate. A mirror will split in two, ignoring that everyone is using mirrors to travel quickly to see the Quartering. Mmm, what else? Oh! I know! How about the time with the crickets—”

“Okay, okay, I see your point!” The undine offered the helm to me, water trailing behind her fingers, wetting the surface. “So my omens aren’t exactly groundbreaking—”

“Is that what we’re going with? Groundbreaking?”

“Oh hush,” Marina shushed me with a fond grin. “But, even you must admit the tea omens are never wrong!”

“Why didn’t you begin with that?” Marina wasn’t anyone near the level of a harpy or Fae that arose from the Spirit of Air. She wasn’t gifted with premonition. But, she was an elemental of water at its purest. That had to account for something, and the tea leaves were never wrong. “What did you see?”

“A black dog! Well, it might have been a black dog. It could have been a cat…”

“Well was it a cat or a dog?” As far as I knew Mal was the only werewolf that was in the Quarterly this year and had already been cleared of this preliminary round by already placing within the top ten thanks to his lot of four.

There was a chance I wouldn’t have to battle him, but still...I’d never won against Mal when we sparred. Not in all the time I’ve known him. But, Tamlynn Shadowpaws of the Cait Siths and the current mark of Lot Seventeen I could best. “Marina, this is very important…which one was it?”

“Oh, the omen is important? I hadn’t known.” She rolled her eyes, blowing irritated bubbles in my direction. “I think it was a dog, but Brooke was very adamant this morning that it could be a cat. I think she was just upset because she saw another bat circling the bottom of her cup, and we all know how she’s smitten with Knight Ophelia—”

“Marina!” The first gong rang for the preliminary round. I was running out of time. “Focus!”

“Sorry, sorry!” She sounded so flustered. “This is all so distressing and—Oh Gods, sorry! I’m rambling! Yes, Raquel, I’m sure! Almost a thousand percent sure that it was a dog I saw this morning! Mark me!”

The second gong rang and the giant black sandstone gate was moving, rolling up into the ceiling. The sound of stone grinding against stone was doing little to disquiet the racket in my head. What if this was all a mistake? I got caught? Could I afford to be exiled? Could I even be killed? No one had ever cheated the Quartering before, the event was considered sacred in some aspect.

Was my act of defiance one against the Gods themselves?

As the gate lifted, I could make out the brightness of the sun-drenched arena past the dark corridor before me. There were stains of rust in the sand, black beast blood, and golden drips of ichor. Fae had died before in the Quartering, proof in the octagonal arena easily seen. I swallowed, my heart rate picking up as I heaved Gundrin’s claymore. Was it wrong of me to think this all was so very exciting?

Bloodlust lit under my skin like an inferno as battle calm eased my mind.

I was ready.

“Your helm! Raquel, your helm!” Marina rushed forward, tentacles already at work to affix the horned helmet to my head. The decorated grate of a faceplate obscured my features well without taking away my ability to breathe. It was perfect. Marina gave me a quick hug as the gate finished receding into the ceiling and the last gong rang. “I’ll be cheering for you in the pits. Try not to get yourself killed, Bramble-Berry. I’d hate to have to find another person to give those awful pies Oceanetta gives to me.”

“Thistleberry pie is a goddamn delight, you fool.” I squeezed her tight, knowing this may be the last time I might see my best friend in all the Faewild. “No matter what happens, please keep me in your heart fondly.”

“Always.” Marina tried to give me a confident smile but her sorrow was making her face drip, her eyes sliding to the opposite side of her head, lips sinking into her chin. Her tears bubbled up in aqua eyes and leaked like a well-spring over her skin. Where they fell, lilies grew. “Be true, Raquel.”

“And to thine own self for you.” I kissed her hand and stepped out into the blistering sun.

***

It was too hot in the Everwood, the sun black from her eclipse, the crossing of both Courts sigils. This was the Quartering. Every twenty-five years, the heavenly spheres would align in a way that made both Courts overlap one another, and the veil that kept the worlds separate weakened just a little to allow it.

It was a dangerous time for us Fae because we were so visible to each other.

To the humans.

To protect us, the First Great Fairy Queen Danu created the Quartering as a means of protection from those that would do us harm. She had meant the Titans that stayed locked beneath Gaia in the realm of nothingness known as The Void, but over the years the threat came to include humans as well. So we held the Quartering to pick the strongest for the King’s Guard, the defenders of both Courts, and the changing of the guard. The years of Fae tradition and Fae power all culminate here.

I couldn’t believe I was standing at the gates.

Above us, from the wall where spectators of either Court sat on raised seats—the Pit as it was called, stood another dais. A boxed-in seating area of pure onyx was where the royals sat to watch over the proceedings of the Quartering. King Ailell sat left of his brother, surrounded by his progeny, seven golden daughters to match his seven golden sons, while our own King Tiberius sat like the world’s happiest crow dressed in the fine furs of the dire wolf, his ill-begotten only heir, Regulus, barely even watching the proceedings.

Instead, he seemed keen to eye a satyress, whose breasts were only covered in the blossoms of a cherry tree.

My hand tightened around the handle of my mace just as my King stood to make an announcement.

“Good Eclipse, my brothers and sisters, and welcome to the Quartering!” King Tiberus may not have looked it to the humans—appearing perhaps only a decade or two older than his son, but our good King was well on his way to reaching a thousand.

His white hair was cropped short, a tradition among the Sidhe for those widowed, sides shaved nearly. His beard was threaded with the only hint of his aging, little silver wisps that shined like moonlight under the rays of the black sun.

“Our rules are simple. There are one hundred contestants in the arena today from the various clans the Faewild has to offer. Fifty of my own Court and fifty of my brother’s brightest stars. Twenty of them have already proven themselves worthy of passing the first test. However, the eighty of you that remain shall have your test of battle. Every Quartering is different, so none may cheat to train. The point is to test you in all ways—to get you ready for the unexpected of this world. Which is why this year we have decided to combine the remaining lots and make this a battle royal.”

What? What the fuck had he just said? Was he mad?

“Look around you, my mighty warriors, for those of you in this arena, even those you call friends, are now your mortal enemy.”

I back up, spin colliding with the sandstone of the arena. There was no way in the Void I could defeat half of them on my own. Not without some major assistance, my squad—

“Some of you will perish,” my King toned, face a grim set of slate-gray skin and hard tri-colored blue eyes. “But know that in the bard’s songs, you will be forever remembered.”

“The battle begins at the sounding of the next gong.” The King of Light stood with his brother, crystalline crown casting broken rainbows across the arena. “The battle will not end until twenty occupants remain standing. May the Gods watch over you all. Be true.”

“And to thine own self for you,” we shouted back, thumping our fists.

Holy shit, it was going to be a blood bath.

I’d made a mistake, a horrible mistake!

And then, the gong sounded.

The Quartering had begun.