Page 59 of A Fate so Wicked

“It’s best we do not discuss this here, young one. You’ll understand when you’re ready. Until then, you must get to safety.”

“Why does everyone insist on talking in circles around here?”

“The answers lie in between words. It’s up to you to discover them. Come now, I’ll bring you and your friend to the clearing. But you must promise me you’ll get to safety and get away from this place as soon as possible. Far, far away.”

“I promise.” I was unsure what it was asking from me, but one thing was certain: if I were to win these trials and make it out to cure my mother, we would indeed move as far away as humanly possible.

The stag curled its front legs beneath its body, placing its belly on the floor as its hind legs followed, allowing us access to its back. I waved Calandra over as I mounted the back of the stag, getting a tight grip around its neck.

“Did you—were you talking to the stag?” she questioned as she positioned herself behind me. She curled an arm around my torso to keep herself balanced as it stood up.

“No,” I lied. “Well, I mean, sort of. Animals react well to you talking to them. It helps them sense you’re not a threat.”

She said nothing in return. She didn’t need to.

And maybe it was guilt, but I could’ve sworn I felt her questioning leer boring into my back. How could I explain it to her without sounding mad? I couldn’t explain it to myself.

The stag took off at a brisk canter, silencing any further conversation—the trees and branches parting ways to make room for its vast antlers. We were untouchable from up there. Memories of Sugarfoot and me riding through fields together played in my mind and how I longed to do that again, but it wasn’t time to reminisce.

We weren’t to the clearing yet, and if I’d learned anything so far—it was to expect the unexpected.

The stag picked up its pace, leaping over small creeks and through pungent marshes, until King Harkin and the arena of faerie spectators came into view. A collective gasp sounded as we broke through the line of trees, and my face warmed.

Once again, I searched the crowd for Talon, finding him leaning back in his seat with his foot upon his knee. I didn’t know if I wanted to smack him or match his smile. Such a know-it-all, pain in the ass.

We dismounted the stag as it came to a stop.

“Thank you,” I whispered, not loud enough for any human ears.

My arm burned as we took our places next to Breana, Kelvin, and Aeron and waited for Irving to appear with forty-five minutes remaining.

I pressed my hand to my chest, relieved to find Breana alive and well, and couldn’t wait to hear all about her experience at dinner that night. Curious if it was as eventful as mine and Calandra’s.

King Harkin and Prince Bowen, however, appeared all but curious, annoyed rather, that we had the gall to stand before them. Alive. I wanted to flip them my finger in defiance but knew better than to test whatever lucky stars watched over me.

The timer ticked away, and less than ten minutes remained.

There was still no sign of Irving.

I shifted on my feet, unsure if I wanted him to show or not, wondering if that made me good or bad. I suppose it didn’t matter at the end of the day. We were all going to do something—become someone—we didn’t recognize, and we’d have to make peace with that, eventually.

A flicker of movement in the crowd caught my attention, and my gaze floated to Talon, who rose from his seat. Apparently, he’d seen all he needed to as he made his way out of the arena, a high-pitched scream followed by a familiar animalistic growl arising in his wake.

A drowler.

I looked to Breana and Calandra—our jaws slack with relief or fear—before everything went silent, and a line crossed out Irving’s name.

King Harkin sneered, disdain coating every syllable as he spoke. “Congratulations, humans. You five live to see yet another day.”

Sixteen

The front of my shirt was coated in a viscous layer of blood, staining the fabric with a dark hue as I hastened into my bedchamber. Clutching my arm tightly to my chest, the metallic scent hung in the air, an unsettling reminder of the injuries I’d acquired since journeying there.

I hadn’t realized how deep the thorn bush had cut me. The adrenaline coursing through my veins must’ve masked the pain. I needed to clean it out and stop the bleeding, and it’d be fine. There was no need to worry. I’d dealt with much worse.

Peeling off my trial attire, I was in only my undergarments as I ran the bathroom sink water over the gash. Blood stained the porcelain bowl, and I muffled a cry, biting into the long-sleeved shirt to keep from making any noise. The last thing I needed was for the other competitors to hear I was hurting. Kelvin and Aeron would stop at nothing to play it to their advantage. Thank goodness for dark-colored clothes to disguise the wound—stars knew I was riddled with enough of them as it was.

My hand shook as I turned off the water and wrapped a towel around my arm, pulling it tight. The castle had to have an infirmary somewhere, but that’d be too risky. I’d need to wait until nightfall when everyone was asleep, so no one would spot me.

---