Page 84 of Terragnata and the Heir of the Earth

Skøl!

At that, a sound erupted, and I nearly jumped a foot in the air at the thunderous cheering from faceless watchers above us. I swore, fighting the urge to roll my eyes at the inscription’s vagueness.How in the gods’ name would I prevent a victor with such rules?I shuttered my eyelids, twitching my Fae ears to listen for movement. I only had to prevent myself from disqualification, which meant protecting my life, finding whatever creature I had to enchant, and making sure I was not the last to do so.

Incessant chirping from swallows and magpies in the arena filled my head. The spiral down-ramp was no longer visible; it looked like only sheer cliffs lined the crater. A crater big enough to be theentireArgention forest. And even though I resisted calling to it, the Earth still called to me, which was a test and an advantage, for though I could not respond, I could observe and listen. I sniffed out a running stream and mounted Romeo, nudging him in its direction. I didn’t know what creatures were placed in the arena, nor how to find one. And if I did find a creature, how would I know if it was mine?

The only thing I could guess was—if it was a living, breathing thing, which the word creature implied—it would likely be a drinking thing. Meaning it would need water.

When we were about thirty yards away, I slid off the saddle and bid the unusually obedient horse to stay put. He did, and I crept through the high grass, which turned into a marsh as I neared the sound of running water. I shivered at the cool, thin sludge soaking my boots, moving up to my thigh and then reaching my navel. The marsh pulsed with muddy fragrance, but I didn’t mind, for it served as a dense cover.

As I approached the stream, I bobbed and weaved my head, staying low to protect my position, but also attempting a look at the bank. And sure enough, life was there. But it was not a gaggle of Gobbles, nor a clan of Elvens, nor a flock of unknown mutants that could be considered ‘creatures.’ It was four of the contestants, all but the stunning Cleo.

The muddy water reached my ribcage, and I slid lower, in to my neck, tilting my hair back to wet it and mask my scent completely. Not making a sound, I stood once more, training my ear on them.

“Our number one goal should be to kill her,” someone said. “Screw the event. We don’t know her magic, and the king said it was the priority. If she lives, we have no shot, and more importantly, no gold.”

Bastard.Fighting the urge to react, I became a marsh wraith—invisible and still. My ears trained harder on their conversation.

“Aw, is the Daini scared of a little Fae girl? I say we compete in the damn competition and off her during the events. Of course, if anyone has a clean shot, then for the gods’ sake, take it. But I’m sure ashellnot worried about her ability to make it through an event, let alone harm me in the process,” anothershot back.Tey. I would know her razor voice anywhere—as sharp as the blades she wore.

“The king said she’s pretty much useless without her element. What a fucking disaster! A Witch in the Fae Skøl! I bet that’s why Cas won’t lie with her. Imagine, a mixed breed in your bed!”

My cheeks heated underneath the muck. Several of the contestants cackled, and I bit my lip to keep in the words—and Earth—that threatened to burst from me. I imagined sending rocks into one end of their orifices and out the other.

“I don’t know if we should kill her,” a soft voice said. I didn’t dare move to see the speaker, but I had a guess whom the guilty comment came from.

“Oh, and why’s that?” someone else said.

“Did any of you wonder why the king asked us to cooperate to kill her? He must think it a difficult job, or he would have paid just one of us. And besides, what’s his motivation? Hesaidprotecting the bloodline. But his royal line was sullied with that common Fae wife he had. I have a hard time believing that’s his reason.” The voice grew stronger. “And anyhow, she only needs tolosefor the bloodline to be protected. Not die.”

“His wife isexactlywhy he wants her eliminated. He doesn’t want the disgrace of his blood sullied once again! Don’t you find it unusual that his Fae wife died in childbirth? Have you heard of such a thing?”

They continued like that, arguing back and forth about the king’s motivations, his orders, how they should follow them, and when.Why would the king tell me to lose just to have me murdered?To make the hit easier, I supposed. But something wriggled in my mind. That couldn’t be the whole story.

For the first time, sitting there in that marsh as the sun dipped behind the edge of the Convallis, I wished for my father. Not Ravello of Argention, the sweet-eyed man that rubbed myhead as a girl. I missed him with every beat of my heart. But now I wished for my birthfather, Viturius, wished he could tell me what I overlooked, why nothing made sense. My memories of him were neither warm nor plentiful, but they were laden with respect. He had raised me to be tough and to come to him with any problem. I needed his strength, guidance, and clarity.

I stayed still for a long while in the marsh, unmoving as they left to pursue their creatures and the sky turned a glowing deep blue. They seemed to follow Tey’s plan, which was to kill me whenever one caught sight of my trail.

“I wish I had my father, too,” an unfamiliar voice said from behind me, and I clenched my entire being to avoid a loud, physical reaction to the surprise. I turned with caution, doing my best to ease out of the water in silence. Not an easy task. My stomach leaped into my throat as I looked into Ezren’s blazing green eyes.

My mouth fell ajar, and I blinked several times to confirm I wasn’t hallucinating in the twilight. “I imagine you miss him a lot,” Ezren said in a voice that was not his. But the image was uncanny, and I could not move.

“What in the…” I whispered, my gaze locked on the warrior.

Ezren cackled in an unnatural way. “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, is it not?”

My blood grew cold. “Show me your true form.”

It laughed again, the sound like the scrape of nails on unfinished metal. “I would, m’lady, but you control what you see. Life, it is.”

“I know what you are,” I said louder. “You are a Talpa. You are a creature of the wood, of the Earth. Part Fae and part Gobble. You cannot lie. You shift and change—transform to reflect your surroundings,” I stated, reciting my lessons. “This can include reflecting the desires of others. But, pray tell, what desires are your own?”

At this, the creature shifted its weight, almost imperceptibly, and I wondered if Ezren was my true desire. For if he was, it meant this creature was mine.

“I have no reason to answer you. But I can see you struggle to identify yours.Pray tell,” it said, mocking me, “do you doubt the fire that burns inside you for the warrior called Ezren?”

“I barely know the warrior called Ezren,” I ground out.

“Is that so?” the Talpa probed as he approached me, the water level at his mid-torso, oddly undisturbed by his movement. “Do you truly believe that, child?”

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