Page 24 of A Storm Rises

“Finnian.”

She kept an eye on Mateo without directly looking at him. Finnian inched closer. He lowered his voice to a whisper. “Are you still with us?”

She watched Mateo study the foxes. His face hovered close to the bars, without a care for the danger within. That fool had no idea what he was dealing with. “Yes. I am in,” she said.

Boots stamping, arms swinging, and axe clanking, Master Kragar trudged in. His long, curly red hair was braided down his back. He stopped in the middle of the triangle. He drew his axe from the sheath and began using the weapon as a pointer. “In these crates are the Shadowblood foxes you will be hunting. One for each of you. The task is simple. Capture the buggers and bring them dead or alive to the spot where you will set out in the morning.” He jerked his axe toward the palace. “Over there.”

He paced in a circular motion. “Each fox is magicked so that when it is captured, a signal will be sent into the air for all to see.” He threw his axe into the ground. It landed with a thud. He cupped his hands in front of his stocky chest. “The forest has also been magicked, creating a boundaried hunting area designed to keep the prey somewhat contained. The magic will keep them within that boundary.” A mischievous grin spread across his ruddy face. “It will not harm you if you touch it, but it will sting…only a bit.”

He slammed his hand around his axe and yanked it out of the grass. “There will be no killing of each other. No exceptions. Though if you die by other means, then you die by other means.” He spit over his shoulder. “You are allowed one weapon of your choosing. Makes no matter to me or anyone else what it is. You will also receive a prepared satchel to take with you.”

Kragar’s face turned cold. He dropped his voice low. “The final hunter to cross the finish line loses the hunt and his or her life, followed by the banishment of that loser’s province. By decree of the High King and High Queen. Let it be so.”

Master Kragar let his words sink in for a moment, his stare fixing on each hunter in turn. When he got to Avalynn, she detected a sorrowful sentiment in his hunter-green eyes. Did he think she would lose? She did not like his look at all.

He tossed his axe from one hand to the other. “The Gala of the Hunter’s Moon will take place at nightfall in the Grand Ballroom.” He pointed his axe at Mateo. “There will be no fighting.” He leveled the Sublander with a warning look before circling back to Eiric. “Not during the gala and not after. You all are guests and will act with respect to your hosts.” He rested his axe on his shoulder. “You all have lots of prettying up to do for tonight’s big shindig.” He burst out laughing and shouted, “Now get out of here!”

Without so much as looking at Avalynn, Mateo spun on his heels and left the training circle. He carried himself as if he were the most skilled fighter in all of Faevenly, from royal lineage, and not a lowborn.

“I would rather kill that lowborn than try to beat him,” Eiric seethed as he and Selene joined her and Finnian. “The rules be damned.”

Selene shrugged. “Perhaps an arrow could accidentally miss its mark and land in his pretty eye. That would put him in last place.”

“Kill him? And risk the wrath of the High King and his witch?” Finnian’s eyes stopped blinking. “I would not want their punishment.”

Their idle, useless, and cowardly words floated in one of Avalynn’s ears and jetted out the other. She needed the best to manage and defeat Mateo, the Sublander. Her task required a way for him to come in last while she came in first. The other hunters combined couldn’t beat him even if he slept. She must not rest her fate on them. She needed to partner with somebody who could match the Sublander.

A wild answer presented itself like a flash of steam from the Enbarr’s muzzle.

Form an alliance with the brash Sublander. Convince him like only she could that she wanted to work together. Then, at the last moment of truth, sabotage him. He would never know what hit him. She would prevail, make her father proud, and solidify her place as the future queen of Faevenly.

Avalynn entered her bedchamber to bustling activity. On the left side, Nia fidgeted with a row of floor-length gowns hanging from fixed golden hooks. On the right, three petite maidservants tinkered with crystal vials and porcelain jars on the mahogany vanity. They were dressed in all-white with flowers and leaves in their short-cropped brown hair.

“My lady.” Nia scurried over. “Time for you to get ready for tonight’s gala. Where have you been?”

After the training circle, she’d wandered the gardens for a bit, clearing her mind and thinking. Mostly, about Mateo. “I was getting myself ready for the hunt.”

Nia pulled Avalynn into the marble washroom. “Well, now is the time to get the rest of you ready. You must look your best tonight.” She handed Avalynn a soft white towel. “Hurry with your bath. The other maidservants and I will prepare your things.”

One step inside the washroom and the aroma of fresh flowers filled Avalynn’s face like a breath of fresh air on the first day of spring, but magnified. She spied the source right away. A tub filled with lapping clear water covered in curling red and pink rose petals with sprigs of white jasmine scattered throughout. Although she had not attended a gala lately, this was too much. Lily, the little romantic, must have gotten to Nia.

She set her fluffy towel aside, undressed, and slipped into the tub. She submerged herself fully in the warm water. Tingling shivers raced throughout her tired system. She held her breath and stayed there, feeling energized with each ripple against her skin.

She opened her eyes underwater. Light danced and shimmered through the water’s surface, blurring the red and pink hues so she could barely make out her family crest on the ceiling. The mural of mountain peaks, trees, and the gold-painted S resembled a messy stain.

She broke the surface with a sputter, then flicked the petals from atop her head. Eyeing the mural now, every painted brush stroke and scenic element looked perfect, in true House Stromm fashion.

But what to do about Mateo? She brought her nose closer to the roses. Smelling ‘romantic’ like Lily suggested earlier could benefit her. She plucked the oils from the tub’s edge and began washing. Perhaps the Sublander would be enticed by her scent and fall for her fake alliance, especially since their unscheduled rendezvous in the forest left them nearly ending each other. She had a lot of work to do in order to earn his trust.

Rinsing the oils, her head dipped underwater. She ran her fingers through her long hair and focused on the blurred crest again. Maybe a gown with a plunging neckline would help the Sublander along. That should do it. He would fall under her spell. She would own the Sublander’s heart as well as his head. The plan was perfect.

She hurried out of the tub, dried off, and pulled on her robe. With no time to waste, she entered her bedchamber to find Nia still fidgeting with the gowns. “Ah, there you are, looking fresh and smelling like the loveliest garden.”

“Thanks to you and your petals.” Avalynn raised a teasing brow. “How many rose bushes were violated for my pleasure?” It must’ve been a hundred or more.

Nia smirked. “Just enough.” She held up one of the gowns. It hit the floor in a dazzling tuft of green with half sleeves and a scoop neckline. “How do you like this one?”

“Pretty color, but I would like to see the others.” The neckline was all wrong. It did not plunge, and she needed that plunge for Mateo.

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