Page 85 of Faking with the Fae King

Without waiting for Varyn to give her permission, Meloria steps forward, her hour glass turning over. Her shadows whip from her skin, picking up clumps of Elowen’s dropped leaves and flinging them at each Severin. Each time they pass through one of the illusions, Meloria dismisses that fake copy of me with a “no.”

Once she’s down to the five of us, she tries the tacticagain, throwing the leaves straight at each of our faces. But the glamours hold, exactly as a good glamour should. Even though Naomi and the gnome are far too short to have any solid mass where my face is, the leaves still bounce off.

Meloria scowls and prowls around each of us. Then she shrugs as if she’s made a decision. Her shadows spool out of her, wrapping around each of the Severins’ necks. Since none of the glamours disappear, it seems Meloria gambled correctly—her shadows do not count as a touch.

Smug pleasure twists her lips, and she squeezes her hands.

The band wrapped around my neck tightens, as do all the rest. Three of us, myself included, immediately have enough trouble breathing that we start to wheeze. Meloria points to the two who are unaffected and says, “No.” Naomi and the gnome representative appear.

Meloria turns back to the three of us still in the game. Her hands clench again. The cord around my neck clamps down, cutting off all air. One of the other Severins collapses, and Meloria dismisses them with a “no” that reveals the wood nymph representative.

It’s me and Meloria’s lap dog left. What should I do? If I collapse immediately, will she think I’m him trying to help her win? In point of fact, whyhasn’the given up already?

I try to fall, but the bridal stone’s magic won’t let me move, which means I’ll have to actually pass out to fall down. Dammit, I so wanted to fool her. I remain standing, even as my lungs burn and the edges of my vision start to go black.

The other Severin collapses, and Meloria leaps toward me, her hand smacking into my chest at the same second shereleases her shadow noose from my neck.

Horror shivers ice down my spine. Goddess, no. It can’t be true!

But it is.

Triumph blazing from her eyes, Meloria smirks at me. “I win.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

Hannah

Shit. Meloria just won the trial. I’m now living in the darkest timeline. Everyone’s going to sprout a black goatee any second now.

I hate that she won, and I super-duper extra hate that she did it by hurting people. The wood nymph representative is still unconscious, and even Meloria’s own minion looks rough.

And Severin… He stands in front of her, proud and defiant, but there’s a red mark around his neck. She freaking strangled him! Anger fills me. I’m not normally a violent person, but she’s sure tempting me to go all stabby on her ass.

Varyn sounds like he’s chewing glass as he reads the parchment that appears. “Meloria is the current winner of this trial with a time of thirty-seven seconds.”

I get a bit of a reprieve while they revive therepresentatives, and I spend it wracking my brains. What can I do? And how can I do it as quickly as possible? I not only need to find the real Severin, Ihaveto beat Meloria’s time.

“Finn,” I say. “You with me, little bud?”

He presses against my leg, looking up at me with trusting eyes. “Always.”

As soon as everyone’s back on their feet, columns of white light swallow Severin and the four representatives and whirl them through the air. More columns are added, and by the time nine Severins appear spread across the middle of the garden, I have zero clue which one is him.

Varyn shoots me a glance.

I nod and step forward, and my hour glass flips over.

“Bird friends! Come to me now!” I call out. “Sit on the heads of these people and show me who’s real.”

Severin’s idea from last week pays off big time. All those trips to his garden to practice my magic mean these birds know me. Masses of them fly from the trees, my robin friend in the lead.

Clumps of two or three try to sit on top of each of the Severins, and four of the groups drop to the ground with a confused flap of wings when those Severins turn out to be nothing but illusions.

“No, no, no, no!” I point at each of them, and they pop out of existence, clearing the area. “Finn, go smell the others and find Severin!” All of my research has told me that glamours are made to fool all of a person’s senses. But Finn’s sense of smell is way keener than any human or fae’s, and I’m betting he can tell me something.

My familiar races forward, nose to the ground. Hereaches the first Severin and yells, “Wrong.”

I say “no” to that one, and Naomi appears.

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