by Lucy Tempest
Chapter Twenty-One
I’d been so caught up in the others’ tasks, I’d forgotten I’d be given one myself. But now I’d seen what his tasks involved, there was no way I could perform mine.
I raised my translucent hands to the king helplessly. “But I can’t do anything.”
A wicked gleam came into his feline eyes. “Nothing at all?”
“I can perform something mental, like answer a riddle? Fairies do that sometimes, don’t they?”
Not that I was confident I could do that. Not enough to stake my life on it.
Theseus leaned back in his throne, crossing his legs. “Your Highness, I’m afraid the entertainment part of your tasks was already fulfilled, in exchange for something as simple as a report on the Wild Hunt’s current location. Ridding us of Akropos’s massive nuisance will be awarded the more valuable news of the lady they seek. But you are asking for something infinitely much greater—myself. What you do needs to be grander than a carnival act, or a wrestling match.”
He’d given Will and Jon challenges they could manage, because what they asked meant nothing to him. But he wouldn’t risk me succeeding. He’d ask me something equivalent to crossing a wyrm-filled moat with its drawbridge raised, and any attempt I’d make would end with me drowning.
I did feel like I was drowning. Like I had back in the flooded shrine of Anaïta, in the ghoul-infested mountain, struggling to stay afloat with no escape in sight…
“Use me!” Robin’s announcement broke through my mounting anxiety. “You used Jon as your proxy, then use me as hers.”
“Interesting.” Intrigue raised Theseus’s fair brows, gaze eagerly moving from Robin to me. “And what do you get out of this? Your friends already won the requests you’re here for.”
“I get you to play fair, rather than make her lose by default.” Robin set his jaw, expression neutral, but he radiated righteous indignation. “I’ll do whatever you want as long as you stick to your end of the bargain. If I win, you do what she asks of you, and you break her curse.”
The sensation of drowning dissipated, only for my breath to falter under the onslaught of a painful expansion where my heart should be.
“You don’t have to do this for me!” I blurted. “It’s not what you’re here for, Marian is. This is my problem.”
Robin only smiled at me. “Weren’t you listening to me yesterday? I can’t sit by and let something bad happen. I won’t.”
Never had I wanted to embrace someone more! The fact that I couldn’t didn’t stop me from attempting to throw my arms around his neck, sobbing, “Thank you,” in his pointed ear, over and over.
He set a hand where my back should be, and I could somehow feel it. “Don’t thank me yet.”
Theseus snorted derisively. “Interesting, indeed. A selfless thief. A true walking contradiction.”
It wasn’t enough that he put us in this position, he had to dampen the moment Robin and I were sharing. If I were capable of doing magic, I’d want those thorns encircling my castle to sprout around Theseus, and pin him to that throne where he sat, feeling so above us all.
“Would you rather I ask for a price, like your sister’s hand as well?” Robin snapped.
Theseus’s grin dimmed. “You could, but even if you won, you would never get her.”
“And why’s that?”
“Because you’re a half-breed commoner,” Theseus spat. “As my sister said, you’re not even worth a courtier, let alone the princess. The blue blood you lack, what Princess Fairuza has through generations of monarchs, is why I’m even entertaining the cause you’re choosing to champion.”
Disgust assailed me, along with a slew of unpleasant memories. The first time I’d heard the term half-breed had been when my uncle’s mistress had referred to my siblings and I as such. That was the first time I’d felt the urge to hit someone in the mouth. Now I wished I could fulfill that desire and smack that regal snob.
But I was being such a hypocrite. Only yesterday I’d almost called Robin that.
But I hadn’t. And I’d felt ashamed of thinking it. I’d never think in these derogatory, prejudiced terms about anyone ever again.
Robin had tried to make me utter the word yesterday. Now it had been flung at him, he stood stiff, fists clenched, looking how I felt, barely holding back a retort that could derail everything we’d achieved so far.
Theseus was clearly quite entertained by our futile conflict. The sadist!
And to think he was my hope for survival. The curse had been evil to start with. It was doubly so, for stipulating only men I couldn’t bear could break it.
I wished I could just tell him to forget it, and go seek the Winter King. But even if I had the time, with the evidence of my past failures, I couldn’t afford to forgo any possibility. More importantly, this wicked trickster would probably deny the others their requests if I backed down now. I was actually afraid, even if I didn’t, and Robin lost, he’d reject our requests wholesale.
But there was nothing to do but play his cruel game now.
“Is this what you want, Princess?” Theseus asked. “To put your fate in this half-breed bandit’s hands?”
Without hesitation, I bristled, “Yes.”
“Keep in mind, if he loses you don’t get a second chance.”
“I’m well aware,” I bit out, my phantom fists clenched.
“Very well. So, Mr. Green Hood, your task is to shoot an arrow at the sun and—”
A commotion suddenly erupted, evidently in the distance, but loud enough to cut that obnoxious king off. Thankfully.
Through the open gates, we could see something dark and large zigzagging through the nearest quarter of the gleaming city below. It was crashing through stalls and smashing into buildings, eliciting a cacophonous chorus of outrage, pain, and fright.
Erytheia sighed. “How many of these things must we deal with?”
Theseus looked down at her sternly. “Until you find a man you deem worthy of you, your spurned suitors will keep venting their fury by sending us such nuisances. The compensations the people petition me for every time is putting a strain on even my treasury.” His frown turned into a sudden grin as he turned to us. “Change of plans! We have a new task for my hand, one that’s to my benefit in a different way. Mr. Green Hood, would you call yourself a good hunter?”
“I would. Just give me back my bow and arrows…” Robin stopped as a quiver and bow materialized at his back in a golden shimmer. He reached behind him, fingers trailing over the silver arrows’ fletchings.
“I trust those will be satisfactory. Now I want you to rid us of that bull.” Theseus pointed towards the city below. “It will send a message to the others, to stop sending us their rampagers.”
“Done.” Without a second’s pause, Robin zoomed towards the gates.
As I watched him recede, terrible realizations started to hammer at me.
This couldn’t be that simple. There was no way Theseus would risk his plan to rid himself of me, on Robin taking that bull out with a single arrow. It had to be like that earth giant. There must be a trick.
And even without one, I could now see the difficulty in this task. Despite its size, that bull moved much faster than a horse. And Robin was chasing after it on foot. And he’d continue chasing it, even if it killed him. Either the exertion or the bull, or both.
I couldn’t let him risk himself again. I had to help him. This time, I could.
I rushed towards the grazing horses, calling for Amabel. The only thing faster than a horse, faster than that beast, was a unicorn.
Like she’d been waiting for the chance, she exploded towards me.
The moment she was beside me, she lowered her neck and I flew up onto her back, and pointed down to the city.
“Looks like we’re going on our first hunt, Mabily. Go!”
With an energized whinny, Amabel kicked into a thundering gallop.
In minutes, we’d left the Summer Palace far behind, and were closing the
distance to the tirelessly sprinting Robin.
But as we entered the city, I realized this was a quarter we hadn’t passed through, and it was no place for speed. Its labyrinthine layout was built on steeply undulating land. Amabel was forced to slow down to keep from crashing into the mayhem the bull left in its wake. Only the bull who cared nothing for smashing into anything could maintain its pace.
Then came the danger of getting lost, and losing track of Robin. The one thing that made keeping an eye on him possible was his vivid green cloak in a sea of light-colored, gleaming garments.
Taking a sharp turn into an even more difficult-to-navigate alleyway, with Amabel’s hooves clomping on the uneven cobblestones hard enough for me to feel the vibrations in my ethereal bones, we finally caught up with him.
“Get on!”
At my cry, Robin lost his footing and slammed into a wall.
With a loud groan, he looked up at me. “What are you doing here?”
“Helping. Get on.”
He shook his head. “I’ve hunted plenty of things like this.”
“Theseus is depending on your confidence. There has to be a trick here, since he wants you to lose, so he doesn’t have to fulfill his end of the bargain.”
“I’ll kill it, don’t worry.”
“And you might kill yourself doing it! You almost died only yesterday, and such effort might reopen your wounds, no matter that they’d been magically healed! Why risk that, if you can ride with me?”
Robin peeled himself off the wall, rubbing his shoulder, the one the ghouls had bitten. “I’ll risk it because he can use your interference against you, and say you helped me cheat.”
“I’m taking that chance, because if I don’t, you’ll definitely hurt yourself!” I pointed behind me with a nonnegotiable snap. “Get on Amabel, now!”
He only started running again, and I screamed after him, “If you don’t care about your life, care about Marian’s. If you lose, this sadist might consider all your requests forfeit. This might be his ultimate trick.”
Swearing furiously, Robin ran back, and swung himself up behind me. I immediately kicked my heels against Amabel’s sides, not needing to have any impact for her to launch into pursuit.
Robin’s body and arms enveloped my form, his hands settling through mine to grip Amabel’s silvery mane as she wasn’t saddled. Though he still went through me, I could feel my outlines within his own, in a surge of closeness and protection.
We exited the alley, made a steep descent down a wider market road. At least most people had now had the chance to hide out of the bull’s rampaging path. And the shattered stands and squashed merchandise were a clear trail for us to follow.
“How are your wounds?” I yelled so Robin could hear me over the cacophony of Amabel’s hooves.
His right hand twitched underneath mine. “Even with the healers sealing them, I can feel them beginning to scar on a deeper level. They’ll probably hurt more in winter. But don’t worry, I can still shoot.”
“I’m not worried about that!”
“I know.” He was silent for a moment, then he said, “I didn’t know you could ride, and like that. You seem like one with your unicorn. And I’m sure it was the same when you had your body. Is it some special connection you have with her, like a witch and her familiar?”
Once, I would have been outraged at such a comparison. But everything had changed the second I’d fallen out of my body. I had changed. Maybe long before that.
Now I only said, “I’ve always had a special connection with her. Whether it’s magical in nature, I have no idea. Amabel never displayed any magic—beyond what Agnë is now insisting is mind-reading. But she must like you, if she’s letting you ride her. Before now, she never allowed anyone but me to.”
“So maybe she’s letting me ride her, like she did Agnë, because she knows we’re helping you.”
“That would still mean she knows she can trust you. Whether that’s magic or not, it’s indisputable she is quite intelligent.”
As if to demonstrate, Amabel slowed down without being prompted at the top of a sharply sloping road, carefully trotting down its treacherous slide, finally in direct pursuit of our target.
Now I saw it clearly, it was a lot larger than I had initially thought. Almost as wide as the narrow road it was tearing through, it had a gleaming hide, the dark, oily green of a bog.
Robin moved his arms from around me as he reached for his bow, and I felt the absence of their heat, suddenly remembering what it had felt like to be cold.
Robin stretched behind me, elbow going through my back, legs crossing mine through my phantom dress as he brought the arrowhead near my face.
I felt him exhale as he let the arrow fly, shooting past with an ear-splitting whoosh.
It hit the bull right in the back of its neck—and only bounced off its skin.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The bull bellowed, its hooves gouging the cobblestones as it spun to face us. Steam poured from its nostrils as it bent its massive head, lethal horns aimed at us.
It was going to run us down!
“Amabel, run!”
Just as Amabel responded to my tug and veered into a sharp turn, Robin leaned over me, briefly fusing with me as he shot another arrow directly between the bull’s eyes.
Like the last attempt, it didn’t break the skin. This time I saw the arrowhead crumple before the shaft clattered to the ground.
Amabel galloped back up the road, with the bull literally tearing it up as it chased after us. I screamed for the people who’d ventured out to run and hide again as Robin twisted to shoot more arrows at the bull, to no avail.
He finally yelled over the cacophony of hooves, “It’s like I’m throwing paper darts at a wall!”
“Those arrows Theseus gave you must be ineffective!” I yelled back.
“Good point. Let me see—ow!” He hissed and flapped his hand, a streak of blood running down his palm. “No, they definitely work.”
“Did you just stab yourself with that arrow?”
“Just a tiny slice. I had to test its sharpness, and it was either on myself or on a passerby.”
“But if they work, this means—AH!” A hard collision from behind made Amabel neigh sharply in pain, and stumble forwards.
Robin flew off Amabel with the impact, going right through me to slam onto the cobblestones. I could do nothing but watch in horror as they both tumbled down the sloping road.
Robin, being lighter, stopped way before Amabel, who struggled to her feet only once she reached a level stretch. Cold terror drenched me when I saw the blood covering her right hind leg where the bull had gouged her.
Seeming to care nothing for it, she snorted loudly as she lowered her head, watching the bull thundering down the slope at heart-bursting speed.
She meant to meet it head on with her horn!
But if arrows didn’t pierce its skin, a unicorn horn would snap upon impact.
I threw myself before her, waving frantically. “No! You can’t run this one through, Mabily. Don’t even try!”
She wouldn’t budge, and I floated onto her back, pouring everything I had into steering her away. But the bull was already almost on top of us, and she couldn’t dodge it completely. It slammed into us again, and I let out an enraged scream, helpless to do anything to keep it from hurting my unicorn. Any more of this, and it would kill her!
Despite her injury, Amabel galloped away, weaving through the intersecting roads. She was pulling ahead, until we burst into a square full of people. There was no way they’d get out of the way in time, and that bull would gore dozens on its way to us. There was nothing I could do but scream warnings as I tried to steer Amabel round a corner, hoping to hide until the bull passed.
She rounded the corner, only to turn and go back. She’d only been maneuvering her way to another showdown with the bull!
Ignoring my pleas, she galloped on. She was going to ram directly into the bull. Her horn versus his.
And I knew she’d lose. He’d kill her.
Tears of helplessness and terror burned me to my recesses as I screamed and screamed for her to stop.
The bull was a few heartbeats away from pulverizing my Mabily, when it suddenly screeched to a halt, its hooves tearing tracks into the road. It was only then my mind understood what I’d seen. A hail of arrows had just bounced off its right flank.
Robin had caught up with us, was letting more arrows fly as he shouted, “I’m the one you’re after!”
The arrows hit the bull’s head, and with a petrifying bellow, it stampeded straight for Robin. Robin who only tucked his bow back, and shot straight towards it.
Torn between confusion and horror, I screamed incoherently.
Robin only sped ahead, meeting the bull halfway as it charged at full speed, head lowered. I couldn’t even close my eyes so I wouldn’t see the moment it impaled him and ended his incredible, unique existence.
Then the moment came and I couldn’t credit what I saw. Robin leaped into a somersault and gripped its horns. Arcing over it, he landed on its back.
The bull came to another grinding halt, as if unable to understand what had just happened. It and me both.
But the respite was over too soon, and it began to buck violently. Robin seemed to have fused his hands to its horns, keeping himself on top despite its rabid attempts to throw him off.
My voice came apart with agitation as I floated nearer. “Wh–what are you doing?”
“What does it look like?” Robin yelled, in between breathless grunts. “Keeping it from crushing your unicorn!”
“What are you planning to do once it throws you off?”
“Kill it. How? I don’t know—yet!”
“Why won’t arrows pierce its skin? Is it made of metal?
“Now I’m here I can tell you it’s not.” He let go of one horn to draw another arrow, stabbing the beast’s head. It snapped in half, and only made the bull redouble its efforts to buck Robin. “I don’t feel any enchantments, either. But its hide might as well be armored!” He resumed his two-handed hold on its horns, attempting to steer it. “Any ideas?”
