The Savage Grace: A Dark Divine Novel(98)

I walked out onto the back porch of the farmhouse and stood at the edge of the steps in front of the battlegrounds. I tucked the earpiece behind my ear and straightened my moonstone earrings. A cold wind kicked up, tossing my robes around me as I unsheathed my broadsword.

I’d feared April would have gone with something sparkly with sequins for my ceremony garb, but when I’d zipped open the garment she’d given me, I found a beautiful hand-stitched ceremonial robe the color of a coral reef. Pinkish-orange fabric with a satin sheen—that reminded me all too much of my bedsheets at home.

I looked out at the boundary of the challenging ring, lit up by torches and the cascading light of the larger-than-life-looking full moon that presided over the battlefield. Only twenty-five minutes remained until the beginning of the eclipse. I prayed we’d be able to stop Caleb and his army before that happened. Otherwise, the moon would turn red, and all hell would break loose. The Etlu clan stood in a circle within the torches, the ceremonial “guardians of the ring,” as Jarem had called them. They held their spears perfectly straight, despite the strong wind that whipped at their jewel-toned robes.

Beyond the guardians, I saw the silhouettes of figures waiting in the fields outside the ring. I caught the reflection of moonlight glinting in several of their eyes.

Urbats. Crowds of Urbats.

At least a hundred total from what I could make out.

“Are they all here to challenge?” I asked Lisa as I took my place next to her between two torches, unable to hide the worry in my voice. “There’re so many.”

“Spectators mostly.” She steadied her spear in her hand. “I hope.”

“Where did they come from?”

“Everywhere,” she said. “A Challenging Ceremony is one of the few things that will bring Urbat out en masse.” She scanned the crowd. “I count representatives from at least fifteen different packs in attendance. The Oberots sent their alpha and his son all the way from Russia. They wouldn’t have come if at least one of them weren’t planning on making a challenge. They’ve been keen on merging our two packs for quite some time.”

“Any sign of Caleb?” I scanned the crowd once more, but I didn’t see anyone I recognized. No Akhs or Gelals. No Shadow Kings.

Lisa shook her head. “It’s starting.”

She held her spear and stood at attention, looking toward the barn. Gabriel, in his burgundy robes, exited the barn. A second person followed, dressed in a robe that glistened like it had been spun from actual gold. The hood of the robe hid his face, but I could tell by the way he carried himself that it was Daniel.

Jarem, next to Lisa, began to hammer the shaft of his spear against the ground. It made little noise itself, but then Lisa and the other spear bearers joined in. Banging, banging, banging their spears against the hardened dirt floor until it sounded like the beat of tribal drums, heralding Daniel and Gabriel into the ring. The two walked in rhythm with the beat until they came to the epicenter of the challenging ring. Gabriel stood on the wooden platform Bellamy had built over the spot where Sirhan died. It was the place where the ceremony was to begin—and end. The winner would be declared from that spot.

I heard a low murmur from the crowd above the drumming, commenting and speculating as to why Gabriel hadn’t entered the ring alone.

Gabriel raised his arms. The pounding stopped, and the crowd quieted.

“I know many of you came this evening believing I, as Sirhan’s beta, would be the prime challenger,” Gabriel said. He spoke loudly, projecting his voice, even though there wasn’t much need in a crowd with superhuman hearing. “However, two nights ago, Sirhan named a new successor. His grandson, Daniel Etlu of the Etlu Clan.”

At Gabriel’s signal, Daniel lowered his hood. His hair glistened in the torchlight, looking almost as golden as his robes. Three black lines had been painted under each of his eyes, and another black line ran from the top of his forehead to the tip of his nose—the ceremonial markings of the prime challenger, signifying that Daniel was the person to beat in order to be declared the new alpha. They made him look fierce and primal, like a tribal warrior.

A louder murmur came up from the crowd of spectators. Some wondering why they didn’t know Sirhan had a grandson, others remarking as to how much Daniel looked like Sirhan in his younger years.

Gabriel raised his voice louder to be heard over the din. “Daniel is more like his grandfather than just in appearance. He is a true alpha.”

Daniel stepped up onto the platform and looked out over the people who crowded around the outside of the arena now. I wondered if he was searching their faces, looking for his father. I could feel the power radiating off his body in waves.

“A true alpha,” someone said with spite. I wondered if the owner of the voice was reconsidering whether or not to make a challenge.

Daniel held up his arms like Gabriel had, and the crowd became completely still. “I, Daniel Etlu,” he said, repeating the ceremonial words Jarem had taught him, “chosen successor of Sirhan Etlu and prime challenger, now call for all who wish to challenge my right to lead the Etlu Clan. Step into the ring to make your claim. All others should withdraw for their own safety.”

Gabriel gave a slight bow to Daniel and quickly left the ring. He took his place as one of the guardians next to Jude on the side of the ring opposite of the barn.

“We’re up,” I said, taking in a deep supposed-to-becalming breath.