by S L Mason
“What do I do with it? I mean, I don’t have any pockets. Where will I put it? What if it breaks?”
“Oh, you have a small leather pouch on the back side of your belt so don’t worry.” She tips up on to her toes in delight.
I hold the thank you back again. “Lavender, I don’t know what to say. I don’t want you to become tired or be punished because you weren’t awake.”
“What you’re doing is more important than what I do. If I’m punished for one day, but helped save the world... I’d hate to think that I could’ve helped you and didn’t. They’ll give me another one today. I don’t use them every day, and they’re not addictive.”
I’m such a fool. Of course, I should’ve asked if it is addictive. Why would they give it to their servants if it isn’t addictive? If she can go a whole day without it, maybe it isn’t addictive. I pull the cork and sniff. It smells of dandelions and chamomile. I’d never been good with wildflowers. That was more my mother’s thing. A drop falls onto my hand. I watch how it interacts with my aura. It doesn’t burn, and its wake is pink like lavender’s hair.
“Lavender, is your hair really pink?” I ask.
She bites her lower lip and laughs nervously. “No, of course not. My hair was white, and now it’s black. But I dye it pink. I don’t want anyone to know.” She whispers in a conspiratorial tone.
If her hair had been white previously, she was vassal tied to Deston. But if it’s black now, then she’s indeed vassal tied to me. She changed sides. Is she dying her hair to protect me or to protect herself? It doesn’t matter. She could be protecting herself or could be protecting me, it’d still be her protecting herself.
“When did your hair turn black?” I sip the drink and finger the leather straps on my clothes.
“About the same time you came.” She never stops fiddling with my hair. She shrugs her shoulders and finishes weaving my hair. She places soft leather-like boots on my feet.
“You’re not going to tell me, are you?” I muse.
Her large eyes gaze at me as she shakes her head. I know she won’t tell me. It doesn’t matter. Let her have her secrets.
She leads me to the top of the servant stairs. I snicker. I have an idea. There’s no way I’m walking down all those stairs this time. I mulled over the process of enchanting all night long. The railing on the stairs is nothing more than a simple rope. The wakes are fuzzy like the fibers that make it. The song rises in my throat, and the music smoothens the wake waves into the fall of water. I grab Lavender by the arm and thrust my hand into the liquid. In a rush, it pulls me down the twisting stairwell. In a blink, we reach the ground floor.
For a moment, I forget all of my problems. My belly aches as I laugh.
Lavender laughs too, but her eyes grow wide. “You must put it back.” She orders.
“No. Why? It’s cruel to make you all run up and down the stairs. I think it works both ways.” I reach out to test my theory.
“It doesn’t matter. You’re not allowed to change a castle without the Lord’s approval.” She informs me.
“Well, what part of ‘I don’t fucking care’ do you think he’d have a problem with?” I snicker. A cough from behind tells me I’m being watched, and I know who is watching.
“Whatever you just did, you must undo. And you need to do it now!” I turn to see the disapproval filling Janice’s violet eyes.
“No, I don’t want to. Why should all these Fae have to run up and down the stairs as if they were nobody and nothing? It’s cruel, just because they’re ‘lower’ than you.” I hip switch. He bites down, and I see his jaw grinding. His brow locks down onto his eyes.
“I don’t care what it is you think or want. You cannot make changes in the Lord’s house; it’s impossible. What did I tell you? You can’t be different.” He grabs my hand and drags me away from the stairwell. His eyes dart left and right, and his whole stance takes on a demeanor of readiness. Fear wakes from him.
“What you’re doing is dangerous. Stop playing with fire. Undo the enchantment. We must leave.” Janice fears for me. My skin gives a tingled thrill where his hand clasp mine.
I huff. The air comes out my lips and puffs my bangs off of my face. Janice’s eyes dart over to the Lavender. She steps in and pins them up and out of my eyes. I turn away from both of them.
Fairies are stupid. ‘You can’t make any changes. Everything must be the same. You can’t do it because it’s the Lord’s house,’ Nan-nan.
I hum a song, undoing the magic, and I keep shooting Janice dirty looks. I hadn’t laid eyes on him since our almost-not kiss. My heart compresses as his lips flash through my mind. I’m angry at him. What does it matter whether the stairs are enchanted or not? He motions for me to follow. I huff as I do.
“Where’s Nick?” My eyes search for him but find nothing but Fae.
“He’s in the pen of humans we’re bringing. Don’t worry, he’ll be there. So far I’ve managed to keep him out of Deston’s sight, but if he does anything stupid today, I might not be able to protect him. You need to remind him who is in charge and what’s at stake.”
The muscles on my face relax with my smile. Nick will do whatever is necessary to save his sister. I climb into the carriage and plop down on the cushy seat. “Don’t worry, Nick knows what’s at stake. He’s not stupid. He won’t rush in.” I’m not sure he wouldn’t, but I need Janice to believe it.
“I know he won’t because I want you to entrance him.” He replies.
My mouth drops open. “No, I won’t! It would be a betrayal. I promised Nick, and who the fuck are you to tell me what to do?” My chest twists when our eyes meet. The fear waking off of him grows in strength.
“He could betray you. I can’t risk your safety.” His hand reaches out to caress the side of my face.
My heart speeds up. I want him to touch me, but I snap, then slap his hand away. “Risk my safety? What a joke. So, it’s okay to send me into some weird fairy thunder dome but Nick is too dangerous? I don’t get your logic.” My chest pounds with my own fear. I’d held it off, but now it threatens to overtake me. My hands are moist with sweat, and adrenalin blazes through my veins. “I am not yours to control. Nick is my problem, not yours. I’ll handle him when and if the time comes. Until then, don’t worry your pretty Fae head over my safety or Nick’s.” With every word, I move closer. Now my eyes line up with his. I hold his eyes for a moment before they lock onto my lips, only to dart back up. A thrill runs through me. I chance a glance at his lips, full and inviting. I want that kiss. My lips press together plumping up against my will as heat moves over my body.
The carriage lurches, and I bounce up, smacking my head into the ceiling. The spell is broken. I slouch back into my seat. The land of Fae speeds by outside the window. I pretend to find interest in it and ignore the violet eyes of the Fae man next to me.
We come to a halt, and the footman pops the door open while putting the foot pad down at the same time. I emerge to the full view of a hedge. Great another hedge. What the fuck? Don’t these creatures have an imagination? Please, don’t let this be another killer maze.
CHAPTER 27
“You don’t look impressed.” Deston’s voice cuts through my thoughts. He must’ve arrived ahead of us in another carriage, flexing his ‘I’m above your station’ crap.
“It looks no different than the last challenge you brought me to. Big hedge with a garden on the other side?” I prod with a shrug. White teeth gleam in his mouth, but the smile never reaches his eyes. White hair falls down his back and over his shoulders, reaching almost to his waist.
“No, it’s not a garden. This time I’m sure of it, but you can have weapons.” He waves his hand, and Janice comes over and begins inserting daggers of all sizes all over my bodice and leather pants. “Give her the sword,” Deston instructs.
A Fae I’d never seen before presents me a sword, out of a dream. The handle resembles small, intertwined vines. The blade itself gleams as if made of liquid metal. The light
clings to the edge and glints off at the same time. My hand itches to grip the hilt.
“It’s called Quicksilver, humans call it Mercury,” Deston informs. “We enchant it to solid form. It will never lose its edge or become corrupted. Its specialty is death. Anyone you scratch with it will die, unless they are Fae. It will even kill Fomorians.” Deston’s description doesn’t lessen my desire to hold it. My belly rolls with my hunger for the sword. It calls to me; the sword wakes out a bright line similar to starlight. The closer my hand comes to the hilt, the stronger the pull. I wrap my fingers around the grip, and the vines cling to my hand, encasing my grip—a perfect fit. A thrill runs up my arm to my mind. Instinct comes with it. It’s balanced for me. I slash at the air in front of my face, cutting it in half and pushing stray wisps of hair back from my face. My heart pounds with the thrill. This sword makes me feel powerful.
“She’s bonded with it; that’s good.” Deston winks at me and takes my free hand in his. He raises it to his lips. His green eyes never waver from my own. His lips vibrate on my skin, creating heat.
A fire races over me causing my heart rate rises as a flush climbs up my neck. He pulls my hand from his lips, and I open my mouth to protest.
“Don’t worry, Sarah. Be safe! We can talk after you finish this challenge.” Deston says.
The agitation that had been growing in me calms. The thrill of holding the sword is almost as powerful as the thrill I receive when I look into Deston’s eyes.
Something about Deston and the feeling he evokes strike me as strange, not right. Looking at Janice pulled at every heart string I had, but it seems so long ago after Deston. I can’t push this new desire away, no matter how strange it is.
“Have you heard what I’ve said, Sarah?” Janice’s voice seeps through my dizzying fog.
I shake my head as if to throw something off. The sound of his voice is jarring. I shake myself again. Something is wrong with me, I’m about to go fight for my life, and I’m busy being dizzy over some stupid green-eyed Fae?
I remark. “No, I just. No, I’m fine. Thank you for asking.”
Janice quirks his mouth to the side as if he doesn’t believe me. He holds his hand open. “Give me the sword. I’ll place it in your baldric,” Janice requests.
I want to snicker. I’d only ever heard the term baldric in regards to some stupid British comedy my dad used to watch. My eyes dart around, looking for exactly what he’s talking about. “What’s a baldric?” I ask.
“It’s hanging from your belt. It’s that leather thing with all the buckles and the scabbard.” My eyes meet his, and my heart lurches anew then stills.
Strange, something is wrong with me. I shake my head again, trying to clear out whatever’s fogging up my mind. As long as I don’t look at either Deston or Janice in the eye or think about them too much, I feel normal.
Janice takes the sword and inserts it into the baldric. The weight of it pulls down on the side of my body, but it isn’t an overly heavy. It feels natural.
I hear a low humming coming from Janice’s lips. Through my teeth, I say, “What are you doing?”
He doesn’t reply. He continues the low humming as he fiddles with all the buckles on my belt and bodice. Then he ceases. “I added an enchantment to your sword.” I cock an eyebrow at him. He doesn’t respond. Deston’s here. Janice must be all business.
“Well, Sarah, I wish you all the best,” Deston says. “Be safe. I would hate to see anything happen to you; it would affect me most deeply.” Deston kisses my hand again, and the pounding in my chest speeds up. I tear my eyes away from his. A strange feeling settles over me, again something I just can’t kick.
Deston saunters away with his retainers as if he doesn’t have a care in the world. His words say I’m important to him, but his actions say something else. My eyes follow him. It feels impossible to tear them away.
A thumb and forefinger snap, breaking my line of vision and bringing me back to reality.
“Sarah, if this is how you behave inside the challenge, we’re both dead.” Nick grits his jaw. It’s a relief to look at Nick. He doesn’t make my heart pound with heat, nor does he give me strange longings. There’s no unfulfilled need. It’s just Nick. Good old, reliable Nick. A human with soft round ears, completely normal. We both have the same agenda, just different people. That’s enough for me. He’s more trustworthy than any Fae will ever be.
My eyes dart around. I don’t see any other humans. “No, I’m good now. I think whatever it was, you snapped me out of it.” I nod my head and give a half-hearted smile. Tilting his head to one side, he drags his eyes from the hedge over to me.
“Anything about this look familiar?” His sarcasm isn’t lost on me.
“Yeah, another fucking hedge. Although I’m assured what’s on the other side isn’t the garden from hell this time.” I give him a shove with my shoulder.
“The other one wasn’t a garden either, Sarah. You were a mouse in a maze or a death trap. This is just a new way for them to try to kill you and me apparently.” Nick shoulders me back.
I toe up on one foot to maintain my balance. “They’re letting you inside?” My brows draw together. That doesn’t make any sense. He isn’t a challenger. Why would they let him inside?
“Janice told me this morning; every competitor gets a companion.” He pokes his chest with a thumb.
“Well, that’s just epic.” I exclaim. This isn’t part of my plan. I don’t want to defend myself and Nick. “Whatever happens from here on out, it’s super important you listen to everything I say. After the bullshit starts, we won’t have a moment to do more than survive.” If we’re lucky.
He knows what I’m gonna say, but it still needs to be said. I plunge in. “Don’t go all big brother if you see Nikki. You don’t know if she’s enchanted or not.”
Nick tilts his head down and looks at me through his eyebrows. “I’ll try.”
Janice cuts Nick off. “If you two are done muttering between yourselves, it’s time for the competitors to hear the rules.”
There had been thousands of competitors the last time. Now, it looks like there are hundreds of girls and boys everywhere. Every girl is with her human companion, waiting for our latest death game. They move in pairs. I guess they are kind of like Nick and I, the challenger and their minion. I give a half-smile. How would Nick feel if he knew I was calling in my minion?
I hear the snick of the gate as it slips closed. Janice’s hand remains on the rail with his lilac-colored fingernails and the day-glo markings indicative of all Fae. I want to reach out and place my hand on top of his. Instead, I settle for next to his on the railing.
I have my own markings, similar to Deston’s—green with swirls and dots. The outline of leaves are so faint; it’s almost imperceptible. My eyes travel up Janise’s arm meeting his face. My heart speeds up, and a flush rolls through me.
Janice says, “You will be safe, you will survive.” I can’t tell if it’s a statement, a request, or if he’s pleading. My feelings are muddled. I can’t drag myself from him. What’s wrong with me?
Just because some violet-eyed, pointy-eared motherfucker attempts to kiss me and then doesn’t, that doesn’t mean I should be all googly-eyed in front of him. But I can’t help it. Something between us has changed. I want to survive whatever this is, and I hadn’t been afraid until this very moment. With a dry mouth and moist hands, I take a deep breath to study myself. “Don’t worry, I’m smarter than the average bear.” I nod my head and turn slightly, throwing a glance over my shoulder at Nick. “Let’s go get a picnic basket!” Nick puts his hands on my shoulders and gives me a quick rub.
Nick replies to my banter. “All right, boss. Let’s go!” Janice’s nostrils flare at the contact between Nick and I. What the hell would he care if Nick rubs my shoulders…unless he does? I smile to myself.
I turn my back on Janice and the burning brick in my belly. I hadn’t paid attention to our trip through the hedge or the human cattle pen we’re
now trapped in. What spans out in front of me is a wooden, top rail fence. It goes on for miles in every direction, encircling and enclosing hills. A forest stands off in the distance and the crevasse of the creek cuts through the area. Fifty flags dot the landscape in a multitude of colors. I could say they’re a rainbow, but there are more colors here than I’ve ever seen in any rainbow. More like something you’d find at the paint shop. One of them looks like it’s Catalina blue.
Hovering in front of us is an exquisite looking male Fae. His hair is so black, it is as dark as a void in space. His amber eyes, fleck with black, are large almonds, framed in black lashes. Day-glo Fae tattooing covers his body also in a deep amber. He stands on a floating mushroom platform, and when he speaks, his voice booms. I tear my eyes away from him to look behind the pens.
A rainbow of Fae colors flood bleachers infested with easily a million creatures sitting, lounging, and standing. Thrones and platforms float in the air. They’re clumped together. I guess even in Fae, there are cliques. As if on cue, they turn and face our pen.
“I am Bonn, Prince of the Seelie court, Defender of the Queen, and leader of the Fae war machines. Welcome to my game zone, challengers.” The crowd roars with wild anticipation or bloodlust. I can’t tell with the Fae.
His title is a mouthful of meaningless nothings. Why bother? I’m sure all the Fae know who he is. We lowly humans don’t give a crap.
“You are all here because you survived the last two challenges. In some cases, you impressed us. In other ways, you were allowed to pass onto this challenge.” I feel all eyes on me. The murmuring around my shoulders tells me that even the human girls know exactly who I am.
Upon closer inspection, the girls are less human and more Fae. Opalescent skin and pointed ears peek out from the hair in varying stages of turning white and black, all laced with flashing eyes. I still see the human in all of them. Their faces are round and plump with mortality. Not one of them is as far along as I am.
Bonn’s amber orbs laugh at my discomfort. How is it I’m so oblivious to this? Is there some kind of Fae twitter feed I’m missing?
