Page 70 of The Great and Terrible

Though I refused to remain in this land, I could absolutely savor the days I had left. In fact, I would prepare breakfast for once.Yes, that was exactly what I’d do. Except. Hmm. A strange red glow began to flash beneath the surface of Jasher’s skin, riding the waves inside his veins. A frown formed as I traced a crimson line with the pad of a finger. Sizzling!

He jolted upright, instantly awake, all trace of his serenity erased, and the rainbow birds finally took flight. “Someone will break a law in a village just outside the forest,” he stated, leaping to his feet. “I’m the chosen executioner.”

My guts knotted. Not this again. Leona and Patch were distracted, splashing around, and paid us no heed. “How do you know a crime is about to be committed?” What had those temporary flashes meant?

“Because I do.” He didn’t glance my way as he collected his weapons. “You and the others will stay here.”

The sight of the blood-stained axes emboldened me. “No, I’m coming with you.”

“The offender may have a substitute.”

And I would protest the death, yes. “I’m coming,” I insisted.

“I’d rather you didn’t.” He gathered his toiletries and knelt at the bank of the pool, where he brushed his teeth.

Something is wrong.The unceasing cry filled my mind. Hemight fear my reaction to the execution of an innocent, but I believed the problem went deeper than that.“I understand you must do what you must do. I won’t like it, but I understand.”

He spit the paste into the water, tugged a shirt over his head, and stood. “That’s right. I must do it. Once a titleholder and a sacrifice reach an agreement, a great exchange takes place. In every way that matters, the sacrifice becomes the offender, and the titleholder is rendered innocent.” He worked his jaw. “There isn’t a way around it.”

Suddenly the problem was clear. A tug of war was taking place in his mind. He didn’t want to do this. And what of the prophecy? “I’m coming,” I repeated.

“Then we leave in ten minutes.” He didn’t glance my way. “If you aren’t ready, I’ll leave you behind.” Off he marched. Where he headed and what he intended, I didn’t know.

Forget breakfast. I let the girls know, then hurried to brush my teeth, dress, and pull on my boots. I even anchored my hat in place.

“I’m coming too,” Leona said, voice hard with determination. “This is the break I’ve been hoping for. Someone might have information about Claudia.”

“Guess I’m tagging along too.” Patch pursed her lips at me. “You gonna break down on us during the execution?”

“Maybe.” Probably.

Jasher returned at the nine-minute mark, and it took only a single glance at him to know he’d used the time to prepare his mind. Before me stood the emotionless robot I’d met on day one. Except, I knew that I knew he wasn’t emotionless. He hated this.

“Move out,” he commanded, grabbing the pack and stalking off.

We traveled through the dense woods. For once, we encountered no incidences. Though, yes, more than once I felt as if we were being watched. A figment of my imaginationmost likely, since no one else seemed to notice and the forever key never heated.

Within two hours, we reached the village. A Candyland-esque refuge with an abundance of pink and blue I would forever consider Gum Drop Lane. From the houses built to resemble mini-palaces to the plethora of gardens with flowers in the shape of swirling ice-cream cones and tufts of cotton candy.

“I mean, it’s not as fortified as the Frontier,” Leona said, anchoring her hands on her hips, “but it’s not terrible. I’ll be a great mayor here.”

“Color me interested in moving in forever,” Patch exclaimed with awe in her eyes.

Jasher’s veins flashed a lava-like glow beneath the surface of his skin again, and he hissed. “The crime has been committed, a death required.”

Thunder rattled the land and concerned villagers spilled from the buildings. A learned response to the first signs of storm, I supposed. Everyone aimed for the town square, where a dais and blood-stained chopping block waited, a perfect replica of the market in the bazaar. Murmurs arose, the people speculating about the perpetrator. I searched the sea of men in suits and women in ruffled dresses for any sign of the crimen.

When lightning flashed, fear skittered over my nape. I’d never seen a monstra in person. Drawn them, yes. Countless times. Spied the Wests’ trophies, also yes. I’d even beheld the creatures in my mother’s paintings as I’d dressed this morning. But none of those sightings had come with a side of danger and death. To see a winged beast meant a life had been spared but others would suffer. I didn’t envy Jasher his dilemma.

“I sense her.” Jasher scanned the gravel streets, tensing when a young woman with tangled white hair emerged from a home.

I pressed a hand over my stomach, those knots now leaking bile. Bruises marred her golden skin and rips littered her yellow gown. When others noticed the telltale sign of guilt hovering over her head, they pointed fingers of accusation. Her eyes glazed with shock and acceptance.

“What did you do?” someone demanded.

“Kill her!” another commanded.

More thunder and lightning. Collective anxiety cranked to unbearable heights.

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