Page 81 of A Match Made in Hell
Even if it’s true.
Fuck. Sath’s shoulder is wet with my tears, and I pull a face when I lean back to look at him, patting the damp like that’s going to help in some way. ‘Sorry.’
‘It’s fine.’ Sath gives me one final squeeze before releasing me. ‘You should go.’
‘But –’ He hasn’t answered my question. If I pass, is this goodbye? Is thisit? Thoughts flurry around my brain like a snow globe that’s been shaken too hard, and I can’t catch my breath;Sath is reaching for the handle, and all I can think istoo soon, too soon.
The doors open with a whine.
Inside, everything is black. Every part of me is churning and panicking, but my legs move as though on autopilot. As I get closer to the entrance, I catch a whiff of stale air and sweat, tinged with copper.
Once I’m over the threshold, I realise Sath hasn’t moved. ‘You’re not coming?’ I ask. ‘Don’t you need to tempt me?’
Sath falters. ‘I think you’ll be tempted enough.’
His faith in me is astounding. I wish I could be angry, but a) I’m practising not being wrathful and b) he’s probably right.
As I go deeper into the Pits, the door slams shut behind me, plunging me into darkness. With a loud clack, floodlights switch on, one by one, each sending my nerves jolting. They illuminate an arena dug into the ground, a set of steep stairs leading to the rocky floor that’s streaked with sand, dirt and dark red stains.
Aric stands in the middle. And he’s not alone.
His hands are wrapped around Harper’s throat, his tail curled around her leg. I freeze. Did Sath know he had her? He wouldn’t. Surely, he wouldn’t. He must know I can’t let this happen, can’t stand by and do nothing as Aric chokes her. This isHarper. Harper who took me under her wing, who introduced me to the fun side of Asphodel, who senses when I’m upset and cares enough to want to fix it. I’ve always compared her smile to the sun, but now her face is eclipsed with blue, her fingers scratching and scrabbling to rip Aric’s hand away from her throat.
What do I do? What do I do what do I do what do I do?
‘Willow White, come to play,’ Aric says. ‘The king was right. It was worth waiting to kill you, if only to see the look on your face now. So sad. So confused. So angry.’
All the air leaves my lungs. What does he mean,the king was right? Right about what?
It was worth waiting to kill you.
I take a step back.
Aric grins as he watches whatever emotion is splayed across my face.The king was right. My pulse thunders in my ears.
Then it hits me. Sath’s leverage.
He promised Aric this, to stop him punishing me after the cue incident. Maybe he could’ve set fire to him all along. Instead, he let him live, let him carry on antagonising me and my friends, all to get us to this moment. My fists clench. Maybe that whole fight in the games room was staged to create an enemy for me.
I swallow. If Sath lied about that, what else has he lied about?
‘Poor Willow,’ Aric goes on. ‘Killed her mother. Alienated everyone she knew. Even if you win this task, you don’t get a happy ending.’
I close my eyes. Perhaps they only want me tothinkHarper is in danger. That would make more sense, would be more in line with my Sath. This is a trick, and I need to be calm. Serene. Picture fluffy clouds and kittens and become the living embodiment of thatSound of Musicsong. It’s difficult.
If I’m wrong, Harper will end up in the Void.
I remember the way it felt watching Sasha fall off the cliff. The panic. The fear. The desperation to know she was okay. And Harper wouldn’t get lucky the way Sasha did, she’d just be gone.
I can’t let it happen. I can’t let another person get hurt because of me.
My bracelet is shrinking, gripping my wrist tighter, a reminder of what’ll happen if I fail this task. Who I’ll disappoint. I can’t stand it. It’s too heavy, too tight, making it hard to think through the pain.
‘Don’t you want to play?’ Aric says. ‘Why won’t you look? Should I cut her open, would you look then? Shall I show you her pretty insides?’
God, I hate him. I force my eyes open and descend the stairs,scanning for something I can use as a weapon. Just in case. Harper whimpers, which only fuels my search, anger simmering in my veins like someone’s turned up the heat on a gas stove.
‘Let her go, Aric. It’s me you hate.’ The floor is empty. There’s nothing on the rocky walls encircling the pit. Aric has donned a loincloth for the occasion, but I don’t think he’s got a knife hiding up there.
