The higher Corwin went, the harder and stranger the maze became. Halfway to the top, all the stones began to move. Some of them rose, some sank. Others spun in circles while yet others would randomly appear, then disappear. He spent several minutes watching the stones, searching for a pattern in their movement. There was one, but it was so complicated he had a hard time keeping it straight in his mind as he jumped.
Two moves later, he forgot the pattern entirely when he stepped onto a stationary platform only to have the world flip upside down. Or maybe he flipped upside down. He couldn’t be sure. All he knew was the ground was above him and the sky below. He stood there, unable to move for the certainty that the power holding him would break and he would fall to his death. His breath came in hard pants and sweat ran up his face into his hair.
Far, far below him, he saw the people still standing on the training field. He heard their shouts, muffled and distant.
“You’ve got to move, Corwin,” he said aloud. The wind pulled at his words. “You’ve got to move,” he repeated, more firmly. Then, closing his eyes, he forced a single foot forward. He didn’t fall, just stepped nearer the edge of the platform, although he remained upside down.
Leaving his eyes open this time, he stepped again. To his surprise, the movement felt normal despite the view, and before long he was able to reach the edge. At first there seemed nowhere to go. He couldn’t be sure the nearest platform would be upside down like this one. What if it was right side up?
This is a leap of faith, he realized. A test sure as any other.
Holding his breath, Corwin jumped. The world righted as he flew through the air, and he shouted in alarm, jarred by the movement. He clenched, drawing his legs to his chest instead of reaching out to grab the platform ahead. Realizing his mistake, he tried to correct it but was too late. His fingers brushed the edge but found no purchase. Air rushed around him as he fell, too terrified to scream.
A moment later he was saved by mere chance when one of the disappearing stones reappeared beneath him. He scrambled up at once, guessing he had only seconds before the stone disappeared again. He raced to the edge and leaped to the next just in time to avoid another fall.
He ended up farther down than when he’d started and was forced to do the entire sequence again. At least it was easier this time. When it came to jumping off the inverted platform, Corwin forced himself to commit fully to the jump and managed to grab the other platform with relative ease.
He continued on, growing more confident despite the challenges. This was a test of the mind as much as the body. He just needed to remember that.
When he finally reached the top, he turned in a circle, searching for the platform with the crown. To his surprise, it hovered below him, a few dozen feet away, with half a dozen stones in between. Far across from him, he saw Edwin pull himself up onto a platform of similar height—his brother must’ve encountered his own set of troubles. They stared at one another, both sizing up the distance between them and the crown—a single crown, for a single winner.
For a moment, Corwin hesitated, all the reasons he should let Edwin win tumbling through his mind. But then he heard Kate’s parting words once more: You are worthy.
A rush soared through him, spurring him onward. He raced forward, leaping across the stones without thought or speculation. Some of the stones fell the moment his foot pressed down on them, but he had enough force to clear the edge and make it to the next one.
The crown platform waited just below, and Corwin launched himself toward it, falling into a tumble as he landed to soften the impact. Edwin appeared on the opposite side, half a second behind. But that was all the time Corwin needed to get there first. His hands closed around the crown, and a moment later he slid it onto his head.
The moment it was in place, all the stones save the one the princes stood on vanished. For a moment, it was just the two of them in all the world, suspended in the air—one a victor and one not. Then, slowly, the platform began to lower toward the ground. Edwin watched Corwin the entire time, his gaze severe and his lips set in a thin line like the sharp edge of a razor.
When they reached the ground, Edwin bowed his head. “Enjoy your triumph while it lasts, brother. For I promise that in the end, you will not wear the crown.”
The bitterness in Edwin’s tone made Corwin flinch. He was accustomed to his brother’s jealousy and resentment, but this felt like something more. The uror mark on Corwin’s palm began to prickle, and he resisted the urge to rub the scarred skin.
Before he could respond, the crowd converged around them. The people were shouting Corwin’s name. They reached out to touch him, to lift him up. Corwin searched the crowd, looking for Kate. As always, he found her. She watched him from afar, one hand lingering near her lips, as if the smile she wore needed to be contained. He remembered his promise to meet her afterward. I have something to tell you, she had said.
I have something to tell you, too, he thought, remembering the words she’d said that night in her room: You’re the high prince and might be the high king. The world will answer to you.
It was something he should’ve said a long time ago, but he’d been too afraid. Not now. Now he thought he might be brave enough to say it to the entire world.
30
Kate
KATE WAITED IN THE MAIN room of her quarters, her heart beating somewhere near her throat. It had been that way ever since she’d snuck into Corwin’s tent and asked him to meet her here. In the hour she’d been waiting for him, she’d considered disappearing at least half a dozen times. She resisted, willing herself to be brave. After seeing what Corwin had gone through during the trial, she felt she could do it. Even if sitting here, waiting to tell him the truth about her magic, felt harder than climbing an impossible maze in the sky.
As the minutes slid by, she reminded herself of all the reasons why she had to tell him the truth. She had to do it for Kiran and for Bonner, for Vianne and Anise, and for the wilders who met at the Sacred Sword, all of them restless with the need for change.
I must do it for myself. That, more than anything, gave her the strength to see it through. She was tired of hiding, tired of lies and secrets. Yes, she was a wilder, but that didn’t make her less. It didn’t make her deserving of such fear and hate. She deserved to be who she was meant to be without judgment and condemnation.
When the knock finally sounded, Kate jumped out of her chair with a jerky movement. Fumbling, she reached for the door and pulled it open. Corwin waited beyond, a nervous smile on his lips.
“May I come in?” he asked after a moment.
Realizing she’d been silent and staring, she stepped back and motioned him through. The moment she pulled the door closed behind her, Corwin took her hand in his. He ran a thumb over the top of her hand, his eyes lowered to the place where their skin met. She froze, uncertain about the touch and the intimacy in his gaze.
“I know you have something to tell me, Kate,” he said in a voice not much more than a whisper, “but there’s something I must tell you first.”
Her breath turned shallow. “What is it?”
Slowly, he raised his eyes to hers, ice like always, and yet blazing. She wanted to step back, frightened by the intensity of his stare, but tension threaded the air between them like strands in a web, holding her in place.
He exhaled and said, “I love you, Kate.”
The words hung in the air, as if caught by the same webbing. Kate stared back at him, too stunned to speak or move at all. They weren’t empty words. This was truth, naked and heavy and free.