Page 78 of Edge of Wonder

Tristan’s eyes narrowed, questioning my motives. Then the suspicion faded, replaced with an easygoing smile. “Good plan. I’ll take the path to the left. You go right. Double back in an hour if you don’t find anything. Oh, and watch out for the Gursuss.” His eyebrows twitched in amusement.

I watched him start down the path, then dusted my hands and took off down my own. This was better. I’d rather worry about a wild creature than his potentially murderous intentions or making weary small talk. My eyes scanned the forest floor, looking for rose bushes, but there was only the thick undergrowth of leaves and vines. It should be fairly easy to spot something red in this massive landscape of gray. The issue was time and whatever lethal surprises the forest had in store.

A small clearing appeared, with branches climbing over the ruins of stone pillars. I sat on a rock ledge and took a sip from my canteen. The air whistled, but now there was the faint sound of scratching like nails scraping stone. I leaned back a few inches, peering over the other side of the pillar. A pile of bones lay at the base. They were cracked and worn from age. Dread pooled in my stomach as the scratching grew louder.

You’re fine. It’s probably just insects…large beetles scrambling over the stone.

I jumped off the pillar and kept moving, the soles of my boots sliding as they rolled over a bone.Don’t think about the skeletons. Think of something nice.Sebastian’s face flashed in my mind. If he were here right now, he’d be searching my hair for beetles, then laughing from my involuntary squirming. He’d lead me through this with a cocky smile, making sure I didn’t take a wrong step into a pit of thorns.

My heart ached as I thought of our last night together. The way he looked at me like he’d been searching for me his whole life. How his touch had been both rough and tender, knowing exactly what I’d needed to feel at each moment. It was torture to think how close I’d come to finding love, only to have it snatched away. Now, here I was in the last challenge, essentially by myself trying to find a bloody rose.

The trail ended in front of a thicket of branches too tight to crawl through. I pushed aside the brush, trying to see if the path continued further, and spotted a hollow area filled with leafy green bushes. The plant was laden with little golden berries.

I recoiled my hand, remembering Shire’s clue and our poisonous berry dilemma. Eating anything inside this forest was a risk, and Shire’s clues were only half the puzzle. But whatever the berries were for, it was worth a shot.Worst-case scenario, I wind up dead again and haunt the forest.Who knows, maybe that would bring Sebastian back? It worked the first time.

A dark laugh escaped my throat as I plunged my hand through the thicket and plucked a handful of berries. They were warm in my hand as if they’d been sitting under the sun instead of gray clouds. I popped one into my mouth; the berry bursting with a sweet and tangy flavor. When I didn’t fall to the ground in convulsions, I tossed the rest of them back.

The sticky skin from the berries stained my hands, leaving behind a golden smudge that wouldn’t come off when I wiped them on my cloak. A few minutes passed and nothing happened. I didn’t even feel sick, or conversely, develop some supernatural sleuthing power that pointed me in the direction of the red rose.

“Well, that was a dud,” I muttered, climbing to my feet and heading back the way I came.

When I reached the intersection of the two paths, I saw Tristan on his knees, dipping a rag into a trickling stream. He’d taken off his shirt, the garment nearly in shreds by his side. Fresh scratches marked his skin, and it looked like he’d gotten into a fight with a thorn bush and lost. He spit out a string of curses and dabbed at the cuts with the rag.

He hadn’t heard me approach, and I slowed, my gaze landing on his back. Besides the fresh cuts, he had no scars. The other night when he told us his story of captivity, he’d claimed to have scars all over his back from the queen’s whip.

A knot tightened in my stomach, and I ducked behind a large tree. When I heard splashing again, I peered around the edge. He’d angled himself toward me, using the rag to clean a scratch on his side. But from this angle, there weren’t just scratches, there was also a tattoo on the front of his bicep. A snake coiled around a black heart.

Bile burned in the back of my throat. Tristan had lied. Not only about his scars but about who he was. The card suit tattoo signified him as one of the queen’s hired killers. It was like the one Sebastian had described at the portal except a heart instead of a diamond.

The thudding in my chest became painful, and I was sure he could hear it. I had to move. The tree provided little cover, and there was nowhere else to hide without getting past him. Sweat pooled at the back of my neck.

With his back turned, I sucked in a shuddering breath and inched into view. My steps were agonizingly slow. I kept my gaze on the trail in front of me. If I could make it a few more feet, I could slip into the thorns.

“Alice…”

I froze at his jarring tone. Had I made a sound? It didn’t matter. He stared at me from his crouched position. His gaze followed mine, lowering to the tattoo on his bicep. A cruel smile extended across his lips.

“Surprise.” He was on his feet in a flash, lunging toward me. I stumbled backward, but he was so fast. His hand wrapped around my throat, driving me backward against the tree. My feet scrambled for purchase, nails clawing at his arm. He squeezed his fingers around my windpipe. I choked, panic sizzling through my mind.

Dizzy from lack of air, I reached for the trigger on the dagger strapped to my arm. The blade shot out of the hilt, but I missed. Bending my elbow, I tried again, thrusting the blade into his chest. It was a perfect hit, but in my frenzy, I didn’t push the trigger all the way forward to lock it in place, and when the blade pressed against him, it retracted back into the hilt, barely nicking his skin.

Tristan laughed at my attempt and loosened his grip so I could drag in air.

“I was hoping to keep up our charade for a while longer. At least until you collected the third key. But looks like that’s not possible.”

“You lied to us,” I grated between my teeth.

“I did way more than lie, but yes. The real Tristan is dead. Has been for years. But you were more than happy to believe in the myth of the missing player.”

“Why didn’t you just kill me?”

“That’s where a little of the truth slips in. The queen wants your keys. She’s waiting for you in the House of Clocks; looking forward to killing you herself and taking the keys from around your neck. And now, you’re going to collect the last one. Even if I have to drag you through this forest on your knees. You’ll cave eventually.” He unsheathed a dagger and ran the flat side of the blade along my cheek.

I barely contained a shudder. “What about Sebastian? He never left, did he?”

The man leaned forward, rasping in my ear. “Sebastian is dead. I stabbed him myself and shoved him through the gateway. It’s just us now.”

A sob constricted my chest. I squeezed my eyes shut, unable to stop the flow of tears. It was over. Nothing left. Sebastian was dead because of me, and the keys were as good as gone. The queen would win, and there wasn’t anything I could do about it.

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