Page 154 of Trials of Dusk and Dreams
A mortal truth shall be revealed.”
He pauses, letting the weight of his words sink in.
“Is he threatening to reveal the truth about the war?”I project my thoughts toward Styx, hoping he hears me.“Are you all in danger?”
No reply. Silence. Crickets in my mind.
My hand moves to my sword at my hip. The other clenches the smooth, invisible thing in my stinging palm. I don’t know what it is, but Peablossom hasn’t let me down yet. The arena’s arched exits are gated shut, trapping us in here. The early morning sun shines through the fort’s opening above, blinding my eyes and creating shadows, hiding faces—all except the show pony standing on the rock in the center of the arena. A single ray of light lands directly on him, amplifying his beauty and presence where he appeared so dull before.
“Who is ready to hear the truth?” Puck grins. “A lie so tricky, one would have thought our dear Glen was involved.”
Laughter explodes. A dark suspicion of danger coats my tongue, and my heartbeat rapidly increases.
“It was not Titania,” he announces, “a lazy queen with an ailing dragon who woke us all from the long slumber,” Puck reveals, pointing his finger at me. “But the House of Shadow’s Shadow. A last-minute stranger arriving at Avorlorna’s gates, a Nothing who woke armies of undead in her land, killed innocents with her bare hands, and was trained by the evil man who bombed the old world, destroying all we loved and held dear.”
Shocked gasps suck the air out of the arena. It feels like a vacuum. My lungs won’t work. My ears ring. All around me, hate-filled eyes pepper me through the heart like arrows. Alfie told Puck everything. I look for my mates, but can’t locate them. Instead, I see Becky—horror and disgust on her face. I see so many eyes looking at me like I’m a monster. I turn to Geraldine and Max and see betrayal in their eyes.
“I can explain,” I say, stepping forward.
“The man who raised you destroyed our world?” Geraldine’s face contorts.
“Kidnapped me,” I hiss. “He forced me to?—”
“It’s true,” Puck continues, his loud voice drowning out my words. He taps his temple. “The Baleful Hunt has revealed this secret, and I, your only trustworthy and loyal soul, once mortal and now dragon-bonded, simply could not keep this worrisome news to myself. The gods punished this agent of chaos, confiscating her magic for such cowardly acts. And what did she do?” He starts pacing toward the wings, scoffing, “She didn’t invite you to her abundant realm, where mortals are free, that’s for sure. No, she came here to steal the prize of a dream come true from mortals whose sufferingshecreated. Timesare changing, my friends.” He pauses beneath the last open archway. “Secrets have been kept for far too long. I promise you that everything will be revealed in due time. But first, let us enjoy the spectacle before us!”
The crowd’s shocked silence feels like a physical force pressing against me. I fight the urge to run, to hide, to disappear. But I can’t. I won’t. I square my shoulders and lift my chin, ready to face whatever comes next. The truth may be out, but it’s not the whole story. And I’ll be damned if I let Puck’s twisted version of events be the last word.
Chapter 63
Willow
Ironically, Nero’s forced training keeps me calm as a herd of vengeful mortals strides toward me across the arena. Alfie approaches, his glamour restored, a pistol—an old-world weapon I haven’t seen since Crystal City—swinging at his hip. How did he find one in Avorlorna? Becky, wild-eyed, draws her sword from behind her back. I may have kept her children’s secret, but I’m the reason they’re starving. More come for me, every Shadow, and every exhibitor. A deadly cocktail of hate, fear, and disgust gleams in their eyes. But worse is the betrayal radiating from my friends.
“You keep lying to us,” Geraldine accuses, eyes glistening as she retreats.
“I’m sorry,” I choke out, stepping forward.
Max interposes himself between us, palm outstretched. “Don’t go near her.”
“Max!” I plead. “Please—let me explain.”
“What is there to explain?” He shakes his head, voice cracking. “We trusted you—were willing to lay down our lives for you, and you lied.”
“I’m ashamed, okay?” I cry, pounding my chest. “I hate myself for what I did, what he made me do. I did it so much thatI started wondering if I liked it. Maybe I do. Fuck, I don’t know. I just know that I’m on your side. You’re my friends.”
His hand lowers, and I take another step. The gloves are missing from his hands, a detail that sends a chill down my spine.
“Why haven’t you put on the gloves, Max?” I ask, gesturing to his bare hands. I’ll never forgive myself if he dies because he doesn’t trust my gift is for his protection. My gaze flicks to Geraldine, and I wince. She clutches an ordinary dagger—not even steel. “Gerrie, where’s Rory’s dagger?”
Footsteps grow louder, faster, as exhibitors break into a run. “Kill her!” someone shouts. “She’s stealing our wish!” another barks. “She’s not even human!”
They sound seconds away, but I ignore them all because something is wrong—Max frowns at his hands. “Why would I wear gloves?”
“For the trial!” I shout, desperation clawing at my throat. “The first trial is about to start.”
They don’t listen. My mind races, desperately trying to find the missing piece of this puzzle. Something felt off earlier,beforePuck’s damning announcement. I’m out of time to think. A muscular exhibitor—pale, tall, dark-haired—charges at me, sword raised. I parry one-handed, twist, and boot him to the side. He goes flying into the wall.
Dahlia is next, shrieking like a Nightmare, sword held high with both hands. The blade chops down but doesn’t connect. Another blocks it—Becky.
