The Faerie Mates (Dark World: The Faerie Games Book 3)
Page 10
“I guess this is where we part ways,” I said, leaning down to give his head a final pet. “Thanks for helping us out.”
He snorted, turned around, and trotted back to where we’d come from.
The lion led us to the cave, stopping once he reached his perch on the side of it. The other lion looked at us for a second and laid its head back down on the sand.
We looked at each other, nodded, and followed the singing into the cave.
25
Selena
The arena was an ice rink, with three igloos on triangular points along the edges. But they didn’t have little tunnel entrances like typical igloos. They were transparent ice brick domes, with no way in or out. A single ice pick sat inside of each one.
Curse the gods.
They’d designed this arena against Cassia. And while Pierce’s fire could melt ice, the arena was clearly built in Octavia’s favor.
“How can the gods and the fae want Octavia to win?” I said to Julian, who was sitting beside me in the Royal Box.
“Octavia’s twisted.” His eyes were hard as he looked ahead at the rowdy crowd. “They feed off of twisted.”
“I guess that means they hate me.”
“They also like surprises.” He turned to me and gave my hand a small squeeze. “You being chosen by Jupiter—and the two of us being… well, the two of us—are definitely surprises.”
“Then hopefully they’ll like it when Cassia gives them a surprise today.” I was trying to be positive, despite the pit of worry growing in my stomach.
“Hopefully,” he said, although his tone was laced with doubt.
Pierce needed to come through for us.
I glanced over at Felix to see his reaction to the arena.
He leaned back in his chair, his legs crossed as he sipped a glass of honey wine. It was like he didn’t care about the outcome of the fight at all.
Or he was an expert at hiding his emotions.
Either way, he was dangerous and not to be trusted.
Bacchus popped into the arena in an explosion of purple magic, ripping my attention away from Felix. He flew his chariot in circles while the crowd screamed his name.
The noise faded into the background as I prayed for Cassia to make it through this.
Bacchus slowed his chariot until he was floating midair in a sparkling purple cloud. “This challenge is relatively simple,” he said. “Each champion had been given an ice pick. They must chip their way out of their igloo before the air runs out. The igloos had been strengthened by Neptune himself, to make them more difficult to escape. But don’t worry—Neptune didn’t know who would be in each igloo, so he couldn’t give his chosen champion an advantage. Then, once they’re out—if they get out—they’ll fight each other. The first champion who’s killed, or who suffocates inside the igloo, will be out of the Games!”
I stiffened as I looked at the claustrophobic igloos.
This isn’t fair.
“Who’s ready to see the chosen champions of Neptune, Vulcan, and Ceres fight to the death?” Bacchus’s voice boomed through the arena, and the crowd exploded into hoots and applause. “I know there’s a lot of anticipation surrounding this round,” he continued. “So I won’t delay any longer. Let the fight begin!”
Puffs of purple magic filled the insides of the igloos. The magic quickly faded, revealing Cassia, Octavia, and Pierce inside of them.
Cassia flung her green magic at the wall, but it did nothing. She scowled and lowered herself to the ground, pressing her hands to the ice at her feet. Her green wings glowed with the sign that she was harnessing magic. But again, nothing. So she grabbed the ice pick and started chipping away.
Pierce gathered flames in his hands, held out his palms, and shot giant blazes of fire straight ahead. The fire melted the ice, creating a door-sized opening. He ran through it, with seconds to spare before the igloo could no longer support itself and the ice bricks tumbled inward.
At the same time, Octavia’s blue magic swirled around her, filling the igloo. The ice melted and turned to water, retaining its igloo form. It morphed and water spun around her, like it was a hurricane and she was the eye. Her dark ponytail whipped against her cheeks. Her ocean blue wings sparkled and shined, and she grinned at the cheering crowd.
Come on, Pierce, I thought. Run to Cassia while Octavia’s showing off. Get her out of that igloo.
He looked back and forth between Octavia, who was still relishing in the storm of water spinning around her, and Cassia, who was only a quarter way done chipping through the dome of ice.
He ran halfway across the arena, fire building in his hands as he prepared to shoot it toward Cassia’s igloo.
Yes. I held my breath in anticipation. Set Cassia free. Then the two of you can attack Octavia together.
Suddenly, the water crashed down around Octavia. It spread out in a thin sheet and turned back to ice. “Wait,” she said to Pierce, and he stopped in his tracks. As always, her voice was magically amplified so everyone in the arena could hear. “Let’s see how long it takes her to escape. That is, if she can escape at all.”
Pierce turned away from Octavia to look at Cassia, pity in his eyes as he watched her put more force into each swing of the ice pick. The balls of fire blazed in his hands.
Now was the time to strike. He could use one hand to hold off Octavia, and his other to free Cassia.
But he looked back at Octavia, and the pity was gone, replaced by cold calculation.
“All right.” The fireballs in his hands extinguished. “But try anything against me, and I won’t hold back.”
“Don’t worry, Pyro,” she said, although her eyes were on Cassia, who was halfway done chipping through the ice. “You’re not the one I want out this week.”
They walked toward Cassia’s igloo, watching her calmly.
“No.” My grip on Julian’s hand tightened. “He can’t do this.”
I wasn’t sure if Cassia could hear them through the ice. But she struck faster and faster, breathing heavily as she put all the force she could muster into each swing of the ice pick.
She didn’t get much farther before her strikes slowed, the blows weakening. She paused, rested the ice pick on the ground, and leaned against it. Her eyes darted around, looking at the crowd like she was a bird trapped in a cage. Her wings were a much duller green than normal.
She raised the ice pick again, but wobbled while swinging it. It missed the spot she was working on, hitting half a foot off to the side.
It took all of her strength to pull the pick out of the ice. Her chest heaved, her arms shaking as she tried raising it above her head to keep going.
Her desperate eyes met mine, and she fell to the ground on her knees. The ice pick clattered down beside her.
Julian sat perfectly still and stared straight ahead.
“Pierce isn’t going to save her,” I said softly. “Is he?”
“No,” he said, and the word was a blow to my heart.
Cassia was sitting down now, her hands flat on the ground behind her. Her mouth was open, her breaths shallow as she struggled to breathe. The green light of her wings flickered in and out.
She leaned her head back, closed her eyes, and smiled.
“Death by gradual suffocation isn’t painful,” Julian said, his voice low. “Right now, it looks like she feels high. Soon, she’ll fall asleep, and then, she’ll pass peacefully.”
“No,” I said again. “There’s still time. Pierce can still save her.”
The crowd was silent, waiting with bated breath as they watched the light dim in Cassia’s wings.
Octavia took a few steps forward, raising her hands as her blue magic swirled around them. Her wings shined brighter than ever. “You don’t think I’m letting this fight end that easily, do you?” she asked.
She shot her magic toward the igloo, and the ice blocks collapsed inward, crashing down on Cassia and crushing her in their frozen embrace.
26
Selena<
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Cold realization flooded my bones.
Cassia was gone.
Everyone in the arena—including Octavia and Pierce—looked up to Bacchus, waiting for him to call it.
The god smirked, saying nothing.
People in the crowd pointed into the center of the arena. I followed their fingers to the pile of ice bricks that used to be Cassia’s igloo.
Green light glowed from under them. The light was dim, but it was there.
My breath caught in my throat. Cassia was still alive.
Octavia rubbed her hands together and smiled. “This is gonna be more fun than I expected.” She straightened her arms, palms out, and shot more blue magic toward the pile.
The ice blocks melted into water, flowing outward to reveal Cassia’s crushed, mangled body.
Her arms and legs were splayed out, bent in unnatural directions. Her hands were trapped in orbs of ice, blocking her from using her magic. Her eyes were open, staring upward as she took in shallow, pained breaths.
She opened her mouth to speak, but all that came out were strained croaks.
My heart dropped. I leaned into Julian, and he wrapped his arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer. I didn’t want to watch—I didn’t want to see Cassia like this.
But I couldn’t look away.
Any hope that Cassia could get out of this alive was squelched. All I wanted was for her to be put out of her misery.
The orbs buzzed around her, broadcasting a close-up of her face on the screen as a single tear escaped her eye and froze midway down her cheek.
“Stand back,” Octavia said to Pierce. “This kill is mine.”
His stare was heavy. “Remember that her family’s watching,” he said. “Whatever you do, do it quickly.”
“And ruin the fun?” She raised an eyebrow and laughed. “Why would I do that?” She strutted toward Cassia, kneeled down beside her, and hovered over her to look her in the eyes. “Hi there, Baby Bird,” she said, the end of her long dark ponytail grazing Cassia’s chest. “You thought you got one over on me, didn’t you? Back there in the sauna. You really believed that Felix would choose you over me.”
Cassia whimpered, another tear rolling down her face and freezing on her cheek.
Octavia flicked the frozen drop away. “I knew about you and Felix from the beginning.” She smiled wickedly. “He told me every last, boring detail each time he came to me so I could give him what you couldn’t.”
More tears, coming faster now, freezing into puddles of ice on Cassia’s cheeks. Her skin underneath them was a bright, angry red.
I glanced over at Felix.
He downed the last of his wine. A half-blood servant stepped up from the back of the box and offered to pour him more. He accepted.
The entire time, his expression was blank. Uncaring. Distant.
Like he wasn’t there at all.
Traitor.
Then, he looked at me. His face crumpled, his eyes flashed with agony, and his pink wings darkened.
“She’s lying,” he mouthed to me. He took another sip of wine, and it washed away all his emotion. He looked straight ahead again.
But I’d seen him, in that split second. He was hurting just as much as I was.
I swallowed down a lump in my throat and refocused on the center of the arena.
Octavia sat back into her heels and trailed her fingers down Cassia’s arm. Once she reached the sphere of ice around her hand, she picked it up and cradled it.
“Such pretty, perfect, soft hands,” she said. “The hands of someone who’s never done a hard day’s work in her life.”
Some of the ice melted, exposing Cassia’s fingers but still blocking her palms. Octavia took Cassia’s pinky and caressed it.
Then she ripped the nail straight off.
Cassia let out a strained, strangled gasp, and I buried my face in Julian’s shoulder.
But I forced myself to look again.
Octavia moved on to rip off the nail on Cassia’s ring finger. Electricity roared under my skin.
But I had control over my magic now. It would only strike when I wanted it to.
So I sat straighter and stopped leaning into Julian’s comforting arm. I wasn’t going to miss a single second.
Because the more I saw, the more rage I’d have to throw at Octavia when I finally got to kill her.
Octavia moved on, finger by finger, ripping the nail off of each one. A dim, green light glowed in Cassia’s palms—her magic. But Octavia’s blue magic surrounded the spheres of ice and extinguished the green.
“Trying to put up a fight against my own element?” Octavia chucked. “That’s cute.”
Once Octavia finished with Cassia’s first hand, she moved onto the second. She placed each nail down next to her after ripping it off Cassia’s fingers, handling them delicately to create a neat little pile on the ice.
After all ten nails were gone, she arranged Cassia’s hands on her chest. The raw, bloodied nail beds faced up for everyone to see. “Much better.” She smiled at her work. “Now your hands aren’t perfect anymore. But we’re not done yet.”
She moved on to Cassia’s feet and ripped the nails off every one of her toes. Thin, icy crystals covered Cassia’s skin. Frozen sweat.
I held onto Julian’s hand so tightly that I was surely drawing blood.
Cassia’s eyes were closed now, tears still running out of them.
Octavia ripped off the final toenail, looked at the little mounds of frozen tears collecting on Cassia’s cheeks, and shook her head. “So weak,” she said. “I can’t listen to any more of your pathetic crying.” She crawled to Cassia’s head, hovered over her face, and curved her index finger into a hook. “Cassia,” she sung each syllable of my sweet friend’s name. “Look at me.”
No. Don’t open your eyes.
She did.
Octavia dug her finger into Cassia’s eye, so deep that she had to be touching the back of it.
Cassia’s back arched. Her hands surrounded by ice thudded to the ground as she let out strained, strangled screams. Goosebumps prickled over my skin, her cries like nails on a chalkboard as they echoed through the silent arena.
Even the fae were horrified by Octavia’s brutality.
Octavia held Cassia’s shoulder down with her other hand, digging with her finger until she scooped Cassia’s eyeball out of its socket with a sickening squish.
She held it in front of her, smiled at it, and tossed it over her shoulder. It rolled a few times and stopped.
An orb buzzed around it, enlarging the misshapen, bloodied sphere on the screen for everyone to see. Half of Cassia’s familiar green iris stared out at me. But I still didn’t look away.
Instead, I turned back to the two of them.
Cassia was squeezing her remaining eye shut.
Octavia pried it open with her other hand. Her index finger was covered with blood and mucus, and she lowered it slowly, hovering it in front of Cassia’s eye.
“It’s only fitting,” she said with another wicked smile. “That I’m the last face you’ll ever see.”
“ENOUGH!” Pierce ran forward with his ice pick and shoved Octavia to the side.
Time slowed. Hope rose within me.
He’s going to kill Octavia.
But he raised the weapon over his head and swung the blade down into Cassia’s chest.
My heart shattered at the same time as hers.
She sucked in a strangled breath, shuddered, and stilled.
Octavia stood and spun to face Pierce. Icicles grew from the ground like crystal stalagmites around her. “That was my kill,” she raged, her hands balled into fists. “And you’re going to pay for taking it from me.”
Her blue magic spiraled around her, tiny ice crystals sparkling inside of it.
Pierce towered over her, not moving. The thick veins in his muscles throbbed. He held her gaze in challenge.
She snarled and took a few steady breaths. The magic around her dimmed, although she
still stared at Pierce with hate and rage and murder in her eyes.
“Champions!” Bacchus landed next to them, his jovial voice out of place in the dark arena. But there was an edge of something else in his tone. Warning.
Octavia reined her magic back in.
Pierce stood as strong as ever, glaring at the god.
Bacchus looked away from them, grinned at the crowd, and held up his arms. “The fight is over!” He was met with hesitant applause, although it slowly grew louder. “Cassia—the chosen champion of Ceres—has been defeated. Her soul is on its way to Elysium, where she’ll be honored as a goddess for all eternity.” He spun in a slow circle to take in everyone in the arena, and continued, “May her crossing to the Underworld be a peaceful one!”
“May her crossing to the Underworld be a peaceful one!” the crowd repeated.
My eyes stayed on Cassia’s mangled, reddened, tortured body.
As I stared at her, something deep within me broke.
“It’s you and me now,” I said to Julian, my voice darker than I’d ever heard it before. “And we’re going to kill them all.”
27
Torrence
We didn’t have to walk long before reaching the cave’s exit. It led out to a huge circular space surrounded by cliffs at least five times my height. With our supernatural strength, we’d easily be able to scale the cliffs. Humans wouldn’t stand a chance.
In the center of the circle, wide steps led up to a pristine marble palace surrounded by floor to ceiling columns. Wolves prowled the base of the steps. A woman with long dark hair sat at the top, singing as she wove colorful threads through a gigantic loom.
Circe.
She stopped singing, turned to us, and grabbed something that had been resting by her side.
A golden staff.
She stood and adjusted her tiara. In her yellow and blue draping gown, she looked like a goddess from the storybooks. “Welcome, travelers,” she said with a smile. “What brings you to my humble abode?”