Episode 9: The Shadow Beast

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Episode 9: The Shadow Beast

Rest felt impossible to come by after the strange apparition in my mirror. I could feel the weight of eyes on me every time I moved or shifted in the bed.

I wasn’t looking forward to another day of training all alone in a small room again. Could the Regent watch me no matter where I was? Even when I thought I was alone?

I dressed quickly, every muscle aching from stress and lack of rest. When I opened my door to head to a quick breakfast, though, I nearly collided with Orion.

“How long have you been standing here?”

His mouth twitched slightly. Not exactly a smile.

“You’re being invited back to the group this morning.”

My eyes widened, and I had to keep myself from throwing my arms around the ancient wizard. I settled for bouncing up and down like a puppy.

“Seriously? Is this your decision? Or Slate’s?”

“Does it matter?” he asked, a thin eyebrow slightly raised.

My cheeks warmed. Did everyone on the team realize there was an underlying current of desire between Slate and me?

Because I had a feeling Slate would die if he knew people thought he actually cared about someone beyond their ability to win the Games.

Heaven forbid he was something more than a monster or a warrior.

I anxiously followed Orion back toward the training arena, downing a piece of fruit and a small bowl of something that seemed like a sweet oatmeal from the mess haul on the way.

When we stepped into the lower arena, the rest of our team was already assembled. Calli stood near the front, wrist still bandaged from the blast I’d almost hit her with. My shoulders relaxed a bit when she winked at me, a sly smile on her face.

Elara’s eyes shone brightly, excited to see me back in the arena. I wasn’t exactly sure how the witch felt about me personally, but she had saved my life in the scarf trial. And she didn’t seem to be angry now that I was back, so that was a good sign.

Brim, however, towered above the group like a mountain, jaw clenched tightly and eyes filled with the darkness of storms.

Slate stood at the center of the training floor, hands clasped behind his back like always. There was something comforting about seeing him there, calm and collected.

He didn’t seem to be worried about whether someone had seen us together last night. Seen his runes.

And if he wasn’t worried, I surely had no reason to worry. Right?

He turned when I approached. “Orion tells me you’ve learned a lot over the past few days,” he said. “Today, you need to prove it.”

There was an or-else feel to that ultimatum that made me swallow back fear.

Before I could respond, the sharp crack of crystal against stone split the air. A messenger in pale robes appeared at the edge of the platform, bowing low.

“Warden,” she said, voice ringing clear. “The Regent summons your team to the upper arena for an exhibition of your progress.”

Slate’s expression didn’t change, but the air around him shifted, charged. “An exhibition?” he repeated. “Before the Games? We are still in training.”

“The Regent is anxious to see how your special training is going,” she said, with a pointed glance at me.

“Have they ever done this before?” I asked Calli, knowing she’d been through the Amethyst Games several times already.

She shook her head. “Never. And I don’t like it.”

“When are we to report? In a few days?” Slate asked.

“Your immediate attendance is requested.”

The woman nodded toward a pair of male Sentinels that had followed her inside our training ring.

Slate’s hands clasped into fists at his side.

“Let her know we will be there as soon as we can.”

He bowed his head to the messenger, and the woman glanced at me one last time before bowing her head and disappearing across the bridge. The two Sentinels who had come with her remained by the entrance to the bridge, waiting for us to join them.

Slate waited until she was truly gone before he turned around and addressed us as a group.

“An exhibition a week before the Games is not something I’ve ever seen before,” he said. “So we have to go into it expecting that anything can happen. Traps. Surprises. True danger.”

Even though he barely glanced in my direction, I knew that last part was directed at me.

“Protect each other. Communicate every shift, every danger, every fear that comes into your head. If the other teams are also in the exhibition, it will be a rare opportunity to see their abilities before the Games. Size them up. Take notice of every special or unique ability that’s used and note which team and which Condemned used it. We can use that to our advantage in the real challenge next week.”

“And what will be the rules of this exhibition,” Elara asked, tapping a fingertip against her red lips. “Will we be allowed to hurt them? Or do we play nice?”

I held back a smile. I’d missed her darkness over the past few days.

“The Regent will likely disclose the rules when we arrive, but if we face the other teams, do your best to play nice. And most importantly, don’t show the full extent of your capabilities. We want to satisfy the Regent without giving away all our advantages. Any other questions?”

For a long beat, no one said anything. Brim, though, finally grumbled.

“And what if I refuse to fight on her side?” he threw a glance my way.

“Then you’re not nearly as strong or as loyal as I imagined you to be,” Slate said.

Brim straightened, lifting his chin as the muscles in his jaw worked.

“This is our team, and in the arena, whether it’s an exhibition or the Shadow Games, we work together as a team. I don’t care if you are the strongest member of this team. If you can’t do as I say, you can go rot in the dungeons with the rest of the soulless beings there.”

I shuddered remembering the hollowed out eyes and spider-like fingers, hissing as skin met metal. Was that really only a few weeks ago that I saw them? It felt like years of my life had gone by already.

Brim seemed to remember them just as well as I did, because his shoulders curled in a little and he lowered his eyes to the ground.

“If there are no other questions, follow the Sentinels to the Regent’s arena. Wait for me just outside the entrance.”

Orion and Brim left first, but Calli held back for a minute, waiting for me. Which meant Brim also stayed back.

But as I moved to join them, Slate stepped close, his arm nearly brushing mine as he whispered, “Wait.”

Calli’s eyes went wide and she squeezed her lips together to try to hold back a smile. I gave her a death stare as she slowly walked with Brim to join the others.

I waited, my heart racing as I looked up to meet Slate’s gaze.

“Orion says your control has improved significantly. Can you handle this?”

“I can almost make it through a session without accidentally blowing something up. That feels significant.”

He didn’t look amused. “Don’t let your guard down out there. The Regent doesn’t hold exhibitions for fun, and the timing of this. After last night…”

“She’s testing me.”

“She’s testing us,” he said, his dark hair falling around his face as he looked down at me. “Or toying with us.”

I met his gaze. “And if we fail?”

Slate’s eyes darkened, silver flashing like lightning in a storm. “Then she’ll make sure you don’t get a chance to try again.”

The chill that ran down my spine had nothing to do with the temperature.

“Is this just for show? Or am I in danger?”

“Be ready for anything,” he said, turning toward the stairs. “Whatever this is, it isn’t just a performance. It’s a trial.”

I wanted to tell him that someone had been watching me. Been in my room.

But he was already moving toward the others.

I ran to catch up, too, my heart practically in my throat.

All that work Orion and I had done to quiet my magic, and here I was, freaking out the first time back with the group.

A surprise exhibition was not on my bingo card for the day.

The climb to the upper arena felt like entering a new world. So far, I’d only ever been on the path from the lower dungeons to the barracks to the training grounds. Condemned like us weren’t allowed in the main parts of the city, and we certainly weren’t invited up to the castle, even though we were close enough to live in its shadow every day.

We climbed in silence through a narrowing passage of glassy stone. The deeper we went, the more the light fractured, scattering across the walls in shards of violet and blue. My reflection flashed in each surface. A hundred versions of myself, all walking toward the same fate.

Two Sentinels opened the carved glass doors at the top of the stairs. Light poured out, sharp and blinding, forcing me to lift a hand to shield my eyes.

When my vision cleared, I gasped, practically choking on my awe.

The upper arena wasn’t like the one we trained in. This space was alive.

Violet and silver crystals jutted from the walls, and the air shimmered with energy. Magic filled every space like oxygen. Tiered balconies encircled the pit, filled with spectators. Not like the ones we’d seen in the lower arena and dungeons the day of the scarf trial, either. These looked more like nobles and witches in their shimmering robes and elaborate jewels. Their voices filled the air with excitement, ready for a good show.

If this is what the Amethyst Arena looked like, what would the main arena in the center of the Shard be like? I trembled to even imagine it.

At the far end, the Regent sat upon a raised dais made of an amethyst so dark, it was almost black except for the deep purple that reflected the shine of the false sun. Instead of her normal bodysuit and armor, she was dressed in a gown that cascaded down her body like spilled ink, each fold of its lower skirt catching faint streaks of purple firelight.

Her hair was coiled high in an elaborate pattern of knots and braids, bound by a circlet of blackened metal shaped into twisting vines. At its center glimmered a single shard of violet crystal, cut to a perfect point and aimed toward the sky like a blade.

She looked otherworldly.

Inhuman.

And she was smiling.

“Welcome, my Amethyst wardens,” she said, her voice carrying easily through the enchanted air. “It’s been too long since we’ve had a proper display of strength.”

Her eyes flicked to Slate, then to me.

“And I am told our teams this year are particularly…special.”

My stomach dropped.

“I simply couldn’t wait until next week’s Games to get a taste of this extraordinary new talent. Mother is dying to brag about you all to her sisters before the Shadow Games begin,” she said, her tone deceptively playful, despite the underlying threat of her mother’s power.

Around the arena, crystalline doors slid open, releasing the other Amethyst teams one by one. Each entered in perfect formation, their movements precise and silent. They were dressed almost identical to our team but with a different symbol representing the mark I knew they also wore on their skin.

Their Warden’s marks, just like the crescent moon branded on my own.

I recognized most of them from the scarf trial. We’d run into them on their way to training sessions or eating dinner at the next table in the mess hall.

It wasn’t lost on me they had obviously been brought here before us. Briefed on the task of the day and organized behind the scenes so they could make that grand entrance.

Our team, meanwhile, had just arrived, still standing, confused, at the top of the stairs.

Slate shifted beside me, posture tightening. “Stay alert.”

A pair of Sentinels in silver armor opened a gate in front of us, motioning for our team to descend the stairs. As soon as we joined the other teams on the arena floor, the Regent rose to her feet.

“The rules are simple,” she said, her voice rippling through the chamber. “No external weapons. Only what you carry within. You cannot directly attack an opposing team, which means no cross-team fatalities.”

With those last words, I let out a slow breath.

At least she didn’t intend to get rid of me entirely today. Maybe she wanted to test whether I should really be on this team. Calli said Slate’s team always wins the Amethyst Games. Maybe the Regent simply wanted to make sure the strongest players were on the strongest team.

But as much as I hoped I was reading way too much into this, I couldn’t ignore the fact that Slate seemed just as scared as I was.

I just wish I had some kind of crystal ball to tell what she was thinking. I didn’t have enough experience with the Regent to know what she was capable of or whether she had a beating heart inside her chest, but I did know that any daughter of a true Priestess of the Order of Shadows had to be extremely powerful.

And extremely cruel.

“This game is called the Trial of the Shadow Beast. Your objective? Destroy him as quickly as you can.”

With a flick of her wrist, the entire arena floor shimmered. Dark mist coiled from the walls, crawling over the crystalline ground until everything glowed faintly purple. The light dimmed, shadows stretching long and thin.

Above us, a large, five-sided crystal prism appeared. Each side carried the mark of a Warden. Beneath each mark, there was the number zero.

“Points will be magically calculated and displayed on the screens above you. One hit-point of damage to the Shadow Beast equals one point on the screen. The team who accrues the most points will receive an advantage at the start of the Games next week.”

Whoa. My mouth opened in surprise as I stared up at what I could only think to call a scoreboard. It was like living inside a video game that unfortunately did not give you the ability to respawn if you died.

I glanced around briefly, looking for Lavender, suddenly remembering the strength vial she’d given me last time we met. I carried it with me everywhere I went, which ended up being a lucky choice since someone had destroyed my crystal last night.

Would it have gotten Lavender in trouble if they’d found it?

I still hadn’t broken the news to Calli about the crystal, but hopefully she wouldn’t be too upset. I was still devastated about it myself.

“Any team that breaks formation will be judged unworthy and will suffer a disadvantage in the first game next week,” she added. “Wardens. Leave your teams to face the beast alone.”

I felt the pulse of the mark on my chest. One hard thud that stole the breath from my lungs. Slate’s magic brushed mine, an echo of heat across the distance. He turned his head slightly, silver eyes locking on me.

“Be careful,” he said before joining the other Wardens on the sidelines.

“The Trial of The Shadow Beast,” the Regent said, holding a gloved hand high in the air. “Begin.”

The floor split open, and I had to spread my feet to get my balance.

A surge of black light erupted upward, scattering the mist. Something moved beneath it. Massive and shifting, like a creature made of flesh and smoke.

Calli’s whisper cut the silence. “I thought she said no fatalities.”

“No cross-team fatalities,” Orion said. “She said nothing about this beast having any rules.”

Elara’s wild eyes met mine as she slashed a long fingernail across her forearm. “This will be no problem,” she said. “Think of it like a giant puppy dog. We will be strong.”

“Stay behind me” Brim shouted, drawing the team into formation.

He didn’t seem to have any permanent damage from the blast the other day, despite the fact that I’d hit him with the most powerful magic I’d ever cast in my life. He had yet to explain to us what he was, but I was guessing some kind of rock golem, maybe. Or troll? I’d never met one to tell, but whatever he was, I hoped his stoneskin was strong against shadow beasts.

The creature screamed, and the first strike of shadow hit the arena floor hard enough to make the crystals rattle around us. In the stands, the crowd cheered and broke out into applause as several long tentacles emerged from the mist.

“Okay, maybe less puppy dog. More octopus,” Elara said, looking way more excited than afraid.

 Meanwhile, fear had me in a chokehold. My hands burned with power I hadn’t called forth. The mark on my chest flared with pain.

“Steady,” Orion whispered to me. “You can do this.”

The thing that rose from the darkness was not smoke or shadow at all but matter so dense it seemed to drink the light around it. Its hide was layered with scales of cracked crystal plates. Five massive appendages extended from its core—tentacles thicker than tree trunks, each moving with the slow, dreadful certainty of something that could crush armies.

When it roared, the sound vibrated through my bones.

“Formation,” Brim said..

Our team moved into position. He and Calli moved up front, with Elara just behind. I hung back, palms tingling as the creature turned toward us.

“Remember your breath,” Orion said. “Magic follows focus. Focus follows breath.”

I inhaled slowly through my nose, exhaled through my mouth, and reached for the spark in my core. The light stirred, warm and alive, but not wild. Not yet.

Brim launched first, his fist slamming into the ground, creating a series of stone spikes to rise from the floor, the last few piercing the beast’s flesh. The scoreboard above beeped: +4.

“We hurt it,” Calli said. “I’m going to get a better view from above. Find a weak spot.”

She shifted into her crow form and disappeared through the mist.

“I will create my own weak spot,” Elara said, glancing back at me. “When I do, hit it straight in the center.”

She wiped her fingertips across her bloodied arm, rearing back as the blood turned to solid red daggers. She released them, somehow controlling the trajectory of each blade. 

I watched in awe as the daggers landed in a perfect diamond pattern on the back of the Shadow Beast.

That was my target, and I did not want to mess this up. Instead of focusing on the terrifying situation we were in, I thought of the bowls of light, taking my energy to a place of calm command before sending it forward. As soon as I felt the power inside me respond, I released a beam of gold that shot forward and carved through the beast’s hide. I didn’t quite hit the center of Elara’s target, but it was close enough.

The beast’s roar made the crystals at the edge of the arena tremble, and the number on the screen flashed again: +9.

“Good hit!” Calli shouted as she landed back beside Brim, who merely grunted his approval, eyes never leaving the monster. She shouted something at him, making motions with her arms, but I couldn’t hear their conversation over the crowd.

Across the arena, the other Amethyst teams were fighting their own battles. One group had formed a tight circle near the east wall, their magic flickering between coordinated bursts of ice and flame. Another team scattered like startled birds, dodging the sweep of a tentacle that came down hard enough to crack the crystal floor. The scoreboard flashed erratically—+5, +7, +2—numbers pulsing and fading as fast as the strikes landed.

A scream tore through the air.

I turned in time to see a pair of Condemned crushed beneath one of the beast’s limbs, their bodies dragged into the beast’s mouth before anyone could reach them. The crowd roared its approval, a thousand voices rising in a single, bloodthirsty note.

I nearly fell to my knees. This could not be my life now. What if that happened to us?

“Eyes forward,” Brim snapped, his eyes narrowed at me in anger. “Don’t lose focus.”

I forced myself to look away from the wreckage, from the scattered trails of smoke curling where people had been only moments ago. The beast twisted violently, flinging shards of broken crystal through the air.

Orion shielded our group at the last second, each of the shards turning to dust the moment it hit. All around us, the battle raged in flashes of color. Violet lightning, silver flame, red smoke. Magic I’d hardly noticed during the scarf game.

Had everyone’s magic been increasing since the training began? Just like mine?

Was the Shard awakening something in all of us?

Points flickered above the other teams, but our number, glowing gold at the center, stayed near the top.

For now.

I tried to steady my breathing as we fought, but it became more difficult as the air became thicker and the noise of the crowd thundered louder in my ears. My pulse tripped faster, magic sparking under my skin as if it wanted to join the chaos.

And then, something changed.

The temperature dropped so suddenly I saw my own breath when I exhaled. The creature’s movements slowed, its eyes turning from violet to pure white. And with that shift came a weight pressing against my chest, invisible and suffocating.

I faltered, trying to draw air, but my lungs wouldn’t expand.

“Bex?” Elara called, but her voice was muffled, far away.

No one else on the team seemed to be experiencing anything new. They kept fighting like normal, but I was struggling to hold onto consciousness, the weight on my chest increasing moment by moment.

I pressed a hand to my mark, desperately wishing Slate could read my mind. I searched for him on the sidelines, but the mist was too thick now.

The beast surged again, striking at Brim. He caught the blow on his forearm, snarling. “Strike, Bex. Now,” he barked over his shoulder.

I tried. I forced the breath again, just like Orion taught me. In. Out.

The pressure eased a fraction.

But then something—someone—pushed back.

An icy hand wrapped around my throat from behind. I reached for it, but there was nothing there. Nothing I could physically see or touch. But it was there. Invisible fingers pressing into the hollow of my neck, cutting off the air. My vision blurred.

I gasped, staggering. No one else reacted. They didn’t see it.

The Shadow Beast’s head tilted toward me, as if commanded.

“Move. Now,” Brim’s voice, distant as the creature struck.

I dove sideways, barely clearing the blow. Orion’s shields covered part of me, but several crystal shards sliced into my shoulder before I hit the ground.

Pain grounded me. Focused me.

I closed my eyes, drawing the light inward, but every time I found stillness, that invisible grip around my throat tightened. The mark on my chest blazed with heat, but I couldn’t obey him right now. I could hardly breathe.

The beast lunged again. Elara caught one of its limbs in a net of red webbing, but another tendril slipped through, aiming straight for me. Despite there being five teams on this battlefield, the beast was coming for me and me alone.

I raised my arm instinctively when a shield of light flared to life around me. The impact rattled my bones, but Orion’s barrier held.

Barely.

Brim was there a second later, slamming his shoulder into the creature to shove it back. “You’re holding us back,” he yelled. “Get it together or get off the field.”

I wanted to scream at him. To tell him there was something wrong, that something had its claws in me, but I couldn’t form the words.

 That’s when I lifted my gaze to the dais. To her.

The Regent leaned forward, her eyes locked on mine. Her hand was raised, gloved fingers flexing in time with the pressure on my throat as the corner of her lips turned up in a cruel smile.

Rage cut through the fear.

I forced my body upright, teeth clenched. The creature came again, a wave of shadow and smoke, and I met it head-on. My palms burned as I shaped the energy the way Orion taught me, drawing it not from fear, but from fury.

Contain it. Control it.

Golden light flared from my hands, wrapping around the beast’s limb and shoving it aside. The scoreboard pulsed +12.

Calli whooped in triumph. Elara sent another set of daggers flying. Even Brim grunted something like approval.

I could do this. We just had to kill this thing faster. Once the battle was over, she would have to stop her attack.

But the moment I took another step, the pressure around my throat doubled.

The pain dropped me to my knees. I couldn’t fight it. I couldn’t breathe.

The light I’d trained so hard to command collapsed inward, imploding under the weight of my fear. In its place, darkness bled out of my skin. Slow at first, then all at once. It spread across the floor around me in a spiral of shadow, rising like a storm until I could barely see the arena, my team, or even my own hands.

Somewhere beyond the haze, I heard my team shouting, screaming for me to stop. The Shadow Beast’s massive arm lifted for another strike.

I didn’t have enough power to kill it in one blow, and I didn’t have enough time to survive the battle if it lived.

I summoned every shred of will left in me and did the only thing I could think of. I reached into my pocket, uncorking the vial Lavender had given me, praying for enough strength for one last spell. 

Then, I gathered every ounce of darkness inside me and hurled it not toward the beast, but toward the woman with her hand on my throat.

May she choke on it.

It never reached her, though. A blast of darkness exploded against an invisible barrier, cracking it like a shell as ashes rained down on those of us in the arena. The shockwave hurled me backward, and pain flared white-hot down my spine as I hit the ground.

I tried to lift my head, but the world tilted sideways.

The Regent’s voice commanded the Wardens, telling them to finish off the beast. Light flashed around us, and bits of tentacle and flesh scattered across the stone floor.

My last sight before darkness closed in was the Regent standing there, her eyes filled with rage as she lowered a trembling gloved hand to her side.

Then everything went black.

THE REGENT

She was still breathing.

The girl lay crumpled on the cell floor, her body a fragile curve in the darkness. Even unconscious, she looked tense. Afraid.

Who was this girl?

She wasn’t on the official list of Condemned for this Solstice, and she definitely had not been in the Shard before this latest opening of the mirror portal. So where had she come from?

And why?

I watched her for a long time before I spoke. “She ruptured the barrier. That cannot happen again.”

One of the Sentinels at my side stiffened. “Do you want her executed, my Regent?”

“No,” I snapped. “I want my barriers fortified.”

The man bowed and left the room.

The air in this wing of the castle was always colder. Quieter. A reminder of what the Shard took from those who misused its gifts. The girl had lasted longer than most, though. Longer than I expected. But by morning, she would be weakened, her power drained by these cells and stored in the soul stone hidden beneath the floor.

It would be delicious to taste it for myself later.

There was something in her I hadn’t anticipated. Both light and shadow.

And a rebelliousness I would have admired if I didn’t loathe her the way I did.

I crouched to study her more closely, careful not to let my gown touch the soot-covered bars. Her breathing hitched slightly as I leaned closer.

“You should not have survived that,” I whispered. “And yet, here you are.”

She didn’t stir. Slate’s mark on her skin flared once, faintly, before fading again.

The Shard wanted her. It hungered for her power. I could feel it in the way the walls seemed to pulse around her, the faint shimmer in the air that followed her every breath. Eventually, this place would do what it did with most powerful witches.

It would devour her.

But I was too impatient to let it happen naturally. Not with my own goals at stake.

A soft knock sounded at the door. “Regent?”

I rose, smoothing the folds of my gown before turning. “Yes?”

“The crowd has been dispersed, and the Wardens await your command.”

“Tell them there will be no winner today. To get back to their training.” I paused. “But when Warden Slate’s team is finished for the day, I want you to bring me the gargoyle.”

The Sentinel hesitated. “Brim, my Regent?”

“Yes.” I turned back to the girl, watching the slow rise and fall of her chest. “He seems to despise this girl. I can use that.”

“My Regent, Slate will not—”

“Slate is not to know about this. Do you understand?”

He bowed nervously and shut the door, leaving me alone with her again. I studied her for a long while. Listened to her uneven breath. Watched as tendrils of shadow curled around her fingertips.

What did he see in her?

Her eyelids fluttered, just slightly, as if she could hear my thoughts.

“Sleep,” I said softly. “You’ll need it.”

I straightened, adjusting the dark circlet at my temple. Then I left her there, alone in the half-light of her failure, as the echoes of her defiance followed me down the hall.