Page 53 of Golden Star

Sapphire

“Come on,”Zoey says. “You’re practically radiating hunger. Just… project yourself, hunt, and eat. I’ll be fine here.”

She’s been repeating the same thing for the past two hours we’ve been huddling close for warmth in this freezing cold tent. It’s apparently designed to keep us somewhat warm, but there’s no such thing aswarmin the Winter Court. And this time, we don’t have Riven’s coat to share as a blanket.

I close my eyes and press my hands to my stomach, which growls like a feral beast.

“I’m not leaving you here,” I tell her, keeping my voice quiet so the knights outside won’t overhear. “Plus, the animals in that forest aren’t normal. Who knows what’ll happen if I eat one? I could end up worse than I am now.”

“If you don’t get some meat in you, you won’t make it through tomorrow’s trial,” she says. “I’m not about to lose you to an empty stomach when there’s a forest full of food out there.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I mutter.

“I absolutely have confidence.” She smiles, somehow managing to warm the tent with her positivity. “Confidence that I’ll be fine if you project yourself out of here for a bit. The knights haven’t checked on us since we came in here. No one’s going to see you leave, since you won’t have to technically leave the tent at all. And if the knightsdodecide to check on us, your body will still be in here. It’ll just look like you’re sleeping.”

“And if they try waking me up?”

“You’re a heavy sleeper?” She shrugs, smiling again. “They’re more likely to believe that than that you projected a magical ghostly version of yourself into the forest to hunt down a deer.”

“Butheknows about my magic,” I say, not needing to elaborate for her to know who I’m talking about.

“Riven’s obsessed with you,” she waves it off. “And he doesn’t want you to die. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s not in that forest hunting down some meat for you as we speak.”

She glances at the bracelet, which will now forever remind me about how Riven went out of his way to find it and bring it back to me.

“But we can’t count on him doing that,” she continues. “Which is why you need to do it yourself.”

She’s right. I might not survive tomorrow if I’m this weak, Riven’s help or not.

“It’ll just be an hour. Maybe less.” She props herself up, determination etched across her face. “You hunt, eat, and come back. I’ll protect your body while you’re gone.”

I shudder, since I hate thinking about how vulnerable my body is when I project myself. I can’t even feel if something happens to it. Zoey and I tested it back in the tower.

“How am I supposed to hunt?” I ask her, pushing the thought of how dead my body looks while I’m projecting myself aside. “The most hunting I’ve ever done is through the frozen section in the grocery store.”

Zoey chuckles at that, and I can’t help but join her.

“You can find something in the woods to use as a weapon,” she suggests. “A tree branch, or a sharp rock. Or—and this is probably the best idea—an icicle. Just latch onto it with your magic and shoot it at your target.”

“You make it sound so easy,” I say, which doesn’t surprise me, since basically everything Zoey does comes naturally to her. She’d already be the best magic user in the fae realm if she was the changeling and not me.

“Youhaveto try,” she insists again, and then she frowns, a troubled look crossing her eyes. “I won’t beable to get through these trials without you. I need you to be at your best.”

“You’re smart, determined, and resilient,” I tell her, not liking to hear this side of her with so much doubt in herself.

Zoey’s never doubted herself in her life.

“I am,” she agrees. “But I don’t have magic. No amount of brains or strength will ever make up for the weakness of only being human around here.”

I wish I could say she’s wrong.

But I can’t.

“Hunting isn’t as complicated as you think,” she continues, apparently done with discussing her humanity. “You just need to take your shot. Don’t overthink it.”

“The last time I held anything remotely like a weapon was a kitchen knife to slice limes for a margarita,” I say, pressing my hands to my stomach as another wave of hunger gnaws at me.

She huffs, waving me off. “Look, I’m not asking you to do anything fancy. When my dad takes me hunting, we use guns, and the principle’s the same. You spot your target, you keep steady, and you aim for the kill. It’s about control. You can do that with your magic just as easily as I can with a rifle. Just don’t put so much pressure on yourself.”

---