Page 80 of A Match Made in Hell
‘Sorry for what, exactly?’
‘I’m just . . . sorry. For a lot of things.’ He drops my hand. ‘Just know, everything I’ve done has been for a good reason. I hope you remember that, at the end.’
27
The end comes sooner than I’d like.
I’d eaten breakfast alone – Harper and the others not in their usual spot, probably too scared to leave their rooms after Henry’s run-in with Aric yesterday – to find Sath waiting outside the dining cave. Vines hang at his back like rotten ropes. Humans side-eye him as they scuttle past but he ignores them all, gaze locked on me.
‘It’s time,’ he says, voice clipped. ‘We’ll do the final task today.’
‘Oh.’ I wait for a rush of adrenaline that doesn’t come. My stomach flips, and I regret eating that second dragon fruit. Unease makes my skin prickle. I’m plummeting towards a finish line that’s sprung up out of nowhere and I don’t know how to stop.
‘Are you coming?’ Sath’s hand is outstretched, waiting for me to take it.
‘I’m scared,’ I whisper. What will I do when I go back?
Sath narrows his eyes. ‘Have you changed your mind?’
‘No,’ I say quickly. I haven’t removed the bracelet since he gave it to me, and I spin it round my wrist, reminding me why I have to finish this. Its weight feels heavier than ever. The last time I changed my mind about something, my mother climbed into a car and got herself killed. If I told him I was having doubts,who knows what awful chain of events I’d set off this time.
She could have accepted your decision. Sath’s words are a more pleasant memory than the ones that usually loiter in my mind, but they’re not enough to stop me taking his hand. Maybe for the last time. I grip it tighter than ever, and I think he’s gripping me too, like if we both hold on hard enough this won’t be happening, I won’t be leaving, I won’t be forced to work out what to do with the rest of my life.
We portal to a floor of Asphodel I don’t recognise, landing outside a large set of metal doors not dissimilar to the gates. The only difference is that these are lacking the carvings of monstrous faces, and there’s no blazing heat or steam being emitted from the iron.
‘Where are we?’
‘The Pits.’ Sath’s thumb brushes my knuckles. ‘The demons host regular fighting tournaments here. Helps to suppress some of their urges. This is where the task of wrath will take place.’
My gut twists into knots. ‘What am I doing here? Am I expected to fight?’
Beating Aric that one time was blind luck more than anything. Or, if this is a test, maybe I’m supposed tonotfight, and just stand there while one of them uses me as a punching bag.
The knots loop tighter. What if this has always been the plan? My final punishment for wanting to leave is to push me into a pit and watch me get pummelled, until I’m nothing but bloody parts that float into the Void.
‘No fighting,’ Sath says, turning me to face him. His face is grave, worry filling in his eyes, which doesn’t do much for my nerves.
He thinks I’m going to fail.
‘Don’t react.’ He grips my upper arms. ‘To anything. No matter what he says, or does, you have to let it happen –’
‘Wait. He? Who’s he?’ The answer hits me straight away. It’ll be Aric. Of course it’ll be Aric. My voice shakes when I ask, ‘What’s he going to do?’
Sath swallows, leaning down to rest his forehead against mine. I breathe in his familiar smell and imagine we’re alone in a misty forest somewhere. My eyes are welling up again.
Whatever happens in that arena, I’m going to get hurt, one way or another.
‘What’ll happen if I pass?’ I whisper. ‘Will I go back straight away, or would we have some time to –’ To what, Willow? We’re never going to be together. But he’s holding me now, arms snaking around me, drawing me into his chest. He’s wearing another jumper, and I was right, he isverysnugglable in one.
I clutch at him like I’ve already gone over the cliff and he’s the last bit of rock I can grab on to to survive. Something brushes my forehead, so quick and light I might have imagined it.
‘What if I can’t pass?’ I say, almost to myself. ‘If Aric attacks me, how am I supposed to –’
‘He won’t attack you,’ Sath says. ‘Not unless you attack him first.’
This is not encouraging. I’ve already proven I don’t have much self-control when it comes to that. And didn’t he deserve it?
No. No, I mustn’t think that.
