Page 49 of Dare

“All you had to do was say, ‘I don’t know.’”

Her features creased in annoyance. “For someone who grew up in an educated nation, you should have learned that nothing is simple when it comes to the almighty Seasons. Haven’t you heard of The Wildflower Forest or The Lost Treehouses? Or has Winter been denied its own realms of dark magic, and the deprivation has turned your scientific court into nonbelievers?”

My eyebrows stitched together. That was a valid point. “In that case, who showed this diagram to you?”

“You prick. I figured it out by myself.”

“While incarcerated.”

“While caged,” she corrected.

Incarcerated. Caged. Semantics.

The beast recounted how she’d found the song randomly written across a coastline when she was a child. How she had memorized the lines. How she’d discovered the map hidden within the lyrics.

I moved to the pit and added more logs, agitating the fire and setting off a combustion. “You could have used this to bargain for your freedom. Yet you told no one.”

“I would never betray the rainforest’s confidence,” she defended. “The map is a secret, and this rainforest is sacred. It chose and summoned me to find it.”

I couldn’t have heard her right. “It summoned you.”

“I saw its call inside the song. The rainforest revealed itself to me in those lyrics, whereas you only recognized the map because I helped you. I showed you how to look for it, and I only did so because you’re here, because you wouldn’t let me go like you should have.”

Where to start. First, I blamed sleep deprivation for my illogical statement. If she’d wanted to bargain for her freedom in Summer, no one would have accepted her claims, much less honored a deal with her. Or in theory, power-hungry Rhys might have negotiated without intending to uphold his end of the deal. Then again, the man spent more time sucking his cock and validating his self-worth than he’d have given to any prisoner seeking an audience.

True, I could not revoke the reality of this place when elusive realms like The Wildflower Forest in Spring, The Lost Treehouses in Autumn, and The Iron Wood in Winter existed. On that account, she was right.

Yes, the Seasons had power. Most would call it magic.

But this world also believed the Seasons had a consciousness. There, I deviated from the majority. No matter what “mystical” kinship people achieved with nature, there was always a rational justification.

Even so, Flare’s conviction wasn’t unconventional. And even if the Seasons had a will, what made her statement ridiculous was the assumption that such a place would summon a fool. That was a fallacy. Wishful thinking at best. All because of a chance encounter with handwritten lyrics in the sand, plus a random stroke of genius.

If nature could choose anyone, it wouldn’t be someone like her.

The beast lowered herself to the ground and tucked her legs beneath her. She gazed in starry-eyed wonder at the drawing, luxuriating in the sight, immersing herself in it.

Enamored. Entranced.

There was more to her story. This daydreamer was industrious and hardly unintelligent. Moreover, her anarchistic nature meant she wasn’t the type to hide away on a deserted parcel of land.

She had another reason for coming here. Whatever absurd purpose that might be, she would rather slit her wrists than reveal it to the enemy.

All in good time. I was a patient man.

Also, Summer was wrong. Turbulence might accompany her madness, however feral tendencies were not the primary source. Though, the answer still evaded me. As far as my experience went, I could not assign any known condition to her.

Nevertheless, she was not free. By law of the Fools Decree, this woman belonged to me. Courtesy of the agreement I’d made with Queen Avalea—in which the Autumn ruler had begged me to save her daughter’s life after being poisoned—this fiery little beast was mine.

As it should be. As the kingdoms ordained.

As I’d been bred to enforce, provided that I returned to my court. By now, Summer had sent a dispatch of my disappearance to my grandaunts. The Queens of Winter would despair of this news. Silvia and Doria would have to deliver it to the rest of our family, including …

I evicted those thoughts from my mind like tumors, then clung to reason. Summer had been on alert, the watch had seen this prisoner flee on a tidefarer, and they had witnessed me pursue her. From there, the sentinels and troops must have noted the boat’s direction. Despite the likelihood of drowning, Winter and Summer would not rest until searching every billow of this ocean. Soon enough, a fleet would emancipate us from limbo.

This rainforest existed. But it was not inaccessible, much less invisible. On the contrary, it had been remarkably easy to get here.

I would return. So would she.

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