Page 49 of Edge of Wonder

“Welcome to today’s croquet challenge! We have an exciting lineup for you. Three teams fighting for survival, and one very special royal player fighting for her first key!”

The audience went wild, and after a few seconds of cheers, the announcer settled them down with a hand signal.

“Before we begin, I have the enormous privilege of revealing our very special guests for this game. Delivered here all the way from the Rottingvale Gardens…I bring you, the Mortal Vines!” The announcer lowered his voice an octave, playing to the crowd. “Watch out or they’ll tear you limb from limb.”

Alice nearly dropped her mallet when the guards wheeled a series of gigantic planters laden with vines climbing six-foot-tall trellises onto the field.

“This can’t be happening,” she murmured, unable to tear her eyes away from the malicious plants.

“Still don’t want my help? Maybe we can see if Peter’s available?”

Alice grabbed my arm, her fingers digging into my skin. “Don’t you dare move off this platform.”

I laughed softly. “I’m not going anywhere, Alice.”

The guards ran off the field, activating an iron gate that rattled closed over the exit. A hush fell over the arena as the announcer’s voice rang through the stands. “Let the game begin!”

Chapter 17

Sebastian

Alice was up first.

The field was steeped in silence as she advanced toward the first wicket. She kept a guarded eye on the vines. But the plants lay dormant, waiting for their moment to strike.

I stepped behind her and faced the other two teams. The spiked end of my mallet was aimed at the scar-faced criminal. He wore a fiendish grin, watching Alice’s every move.

“What’s the matter, mate?” Scar-face drawled. “Afraid I might get too close to your girl?”

Alice sucked in a sharp breath, but I didn’t turn.

“Just take your shot, Alice.”

She tapped the ball, and the crowd cheered, letting me know she’d made it through the first hoop, earning her another turn. The next hoop was further out, requiring a harder, more precise hit. Her mallet thunked into the ball. I glanced over my shoulder as the ball skimmed across the grass in a perfect line. It slowed in front of the wicket, the crowd murmuring in the stands.Just a little more…

Her ball rolled through and stopped. A perfect hit.

The announcer crowed from his perch on the balcony. “Alice has done it again! Can she make it three in a row?”

Another smack of the ball, and this time, the audience groaned as the shot fell short. Scarface clipped my shoulder as he dropped his ball onto the field.

“My turn, mate. You gonna watch my back?”

I ignored him and searched for Alice down the field. She gave me a guarded look as the game continued. The sun baked the field and two rounds passed with each player taking a turn, yet the vines stayed still. I wiped my brow with my sleeve, wishing for a cool breeze or a drink of water. The heat was making things worse. Exhaustion was setting in and tempers were rising.

An hour passed. The other teams grew restless, even bored with the progression of the game. Alice and I were ahead when she took her next turn, aiming for a wicket on the other side of a swirling topiary.

“When is it going to get interesting?” Scar-face bellowed. Sweat drenched his shirt, and he used the bottom half to wipe his face. “Am I going to have to speed things along myself?” He spun his mallet, his eyes filled with malice.

“Leave it be,” his partner said, grabbing his arm.

Scarface shrugged him off. “The fewer players taking turns, the sooner the game will end. The vines are toying with us. I’m not dying on this field. I’m getting out of here.”

With a shrill shout, he gripped both ends of his mallet and used the blunt end to jab the player closest to him in the chest. The man fell to the ground, howling in pain, but he rolled out of the way before the mallet struck him again.

“You’re next.” Scarface pointed the mallet at Alice and charged.

His boots ate up the ground, reaching her in seconds. Alice staggered a few steps, trying to avoid his attack. I dove into his path, raising my mallet. Wood cracked into wood as our sticks crashed together. I shoved him away and flipped the spiked end forward.

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