Page 83 of Mud

My words surprised him. He turned to me, brows raised, blue eyes wide open.

“You might make it,” he said, and I could have laughed.

“How many Mud have entered this game since it was created?”

His lips parted. He had nothing to say, but it was okay. I already knew the answer:none.Because you needed magic to complete this game, and magic was what the Mud lacked.

“Exactly,” I forced myself to continue, pretending—alwayspretending—that I was not about to burst into tears. “But thank you for the weapons. I’ll try not to die in the first hour, just to make my grandmother proud.”

“If you hide and use these weapons wisely, you can walk out of the game alive,” said Billy.

I’d actually managed to make him feel sorry for me.

Wasn’t that just great.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I said because he didn’t need to know that Madeline would kill me if I made it out of that game—simplymade it out alive,still Mud.

And we’ve already established that I would rather be killed by anyone else than her.

“We can’t be sure exactly what the games are but expect very basic things from each school of magic,” he still said. “Chaos from Redfire, speed and agility from Bluefire. Possibly some animalistic challenge from Greenfire, and Blackfire should be something dark and deadly.”

Poppy came to my other side, no longer smiling. No longer half as hopeful as in the beginning. “And Whitefire?”

We both turned to Billy. He shrugged. “Healingis my best guess.”

Healing—which was done through magic. And those dark and deadly things he mentioned, chaos and speed and agility—all of it required magic to be completed.

“I appreciate your time, Billy.”

“My pleasure,” he said. “Arthur here will show you what you can take through the entrance wards. They’re not strong because they want people to cheat, but they’ll stop whatever hasn’t been properly shielded.”

He was already going over the pieces of paper that he’d had in his suitcase, while Arthur, the guy who’d arranged the weapons so neatly, smiled a smile so fake it hurt to look at it.

“I have two M-17s, two large daggers, ten knives, and?—”

“Thank you, Arthur,” I cut him off because the need to be alone right now was stronger than my people-pleasing tendencies. “I’ll figure out how I can put everything on my person myself.”

I knew weapons—he didn’t need to point out everything they’d brought me. I was thankful, really, but a heavy-duty panic attack was on the horizon, and I wanted to be alone when it hit me. I didn’t mean to be rude.

“As you wish, Agent La Rouge,” said Billy, tipping his cowboy hat again. “We’ll leave the whiteboard with you, in case you need, erm…inspiration.”

I’ll read a fucking book if I do.“Thank you.”

I went to the window, dragging my leg still, though it didn’t hurt, not nearly as much as I feared every time I put my foot on the floor. But I’d gotten so used to that pain that I now expected it. It had becomenormalfor it to hurt when I walked, so fast. It was going to take me a little while to get back to myrealnormal,apparently.

And while the agents gathered their things and left my room, Poppy came to stand beside me, and we both looked out at the blue sky in silence. The view was that of the estate surrounding Madeline’s mansion, with acres and acres of green fields surrounded by pine trees on one corner, and a wall on the other. She had horses and cars and a lot of things I wasn’t allowed to use when I was a little girl and actuallywantedto.

“Leather.”

I turned my head to Billy, who was by the open door, one foot outside in the hallway. His friends were already gone.

“Wear leather, preferably warded. You’re going to need it.” With that, he walked out and pulled the door closed.

Warded leather,like what my uniform jacket was supposed to be. Like my uniform leather jacket always was—except last time. Except when we went in the catfairie-infested woods.

Like someone had deactivated its shielding magic on purpose—someone like my team leader. Maybe he’d hoped I’d die on the mission so he didn’t have to get his hands dirty at all? Not that it mattered anymore.

“I’ll help,” said Poppy. “I can put wards on your leathers. Hold on, I’ll find you something.” And she ran to my closet by herself.

---