by Casey Bond
Arabella and I ate until we were bursting, and then we were pulled away into the crowd, where I lost her.
I stood beneath the dimmed lights, looking at streaks of glitter flying across the ceiling. I spun in a slow circle, trying to keep my balance. The room tilted and I cried out, catching myself just before I crashed to the floor. The fae around me laughed. With long noses, tusks, and snouts, they chortled. Others looked human but definitely weren’t, with their pointed ears and otherworldly eyes. It was like they were so much more than us, and I wondered how that happened. And why.
I couldn’t figure out where I was or how I got here, or who I was and why I even cared, so I stood there watching the muted lights and tried to stay on my feet while the world swayed underneath me.
Something was missing, but I couldn’t think of what it was. All I knew was that it was gone and I was sad. No, sad was too small a word. I was bereft. I mourned for it, whatever it was that was missing from me, and the ceiling cried along with my heart. Tears of glitter stardust.
ARABELLA
My palms were painfully hot. I couldn’t feel my lips and my legs were wobbly. I managed to make it to one of the ballroom doors, where a guard stopped me from exiting. “I need air,” I gasped. It was too hot in here. The atmosphere was too thick, the scents too overwhelming.
“I will escort her,” a masculine voice purred.
The guard’s eyes widened and he gripped his spear so hard, his knuckles turned white. “As you say, Sire.”
I turned to see a fae male standing behind me. “Who are you?” I panted.
“Someone who can help,” he offered, taking my elbow in his long fingers and leading me through the door. “But we should hurry before the Queen realizes you’re gone.”
He tugged me along beside him, through the doors and down a long corridor. The farther we strode away from the boisterous revelry, the easier it was to breathe, like a heavy weight was lifting from my chest, inch by inch. “Why are you helping me?”
He shrugged. “I want to see the game as much as anyone, and it can’t go on without a player. I’ll stay with you until the spell passes, and then I’ll see you safely back inside.”
“Spell?” I asked dumbly as he led me through corridors where the walls swirled and bled into the floor below and onto the ceiling above. Dizzied by the onslaught of visions, I shut my eyes and kept trudging forward. “Like witches?”
He chuckled darkly. “Witches are half-fae abominations. Sure, they conjure with what little magic they have, but they aren’t capable of what a full-blooded fae is. And they cannot concoct such fine libations and cuisine as you’ve engorged yourself on this night.”
Unable to form coherent thoughts, I could only offer “Huh?” in response.
He laughed again, though it lacked any note of merriment. “One bite of fae food will intoxicate a human. One drink of faery wine will make every worry go away—for a time. You’ve consumed much of both, which is ill-advised. And now you must pay the price.”
“What price?” My stomach roiled in protest.
Rule steadied me when I fell onto one knee, my skin emerging from the folds of my dress and squeaking on the tidy tiles. “What did she do to me?”
“My dear, I’m afraid you’re going to be sick.”
This is the Queen’s fault! I raged internally. My stomach lurched and half of the fae food I’d eaten, plus most of the wine, surged up my throat and splattered across the sparkling tiles.
The young man laughed again. Why would he find a human being sick funny? Unless he means to kill me, a dark thought mused. The room spun impossibly fast, so I pressed my eyes closed until the feeling began to ebb.
I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. “Who are you?” I asked again as I started to stand.
“Rule,” he answered simply. “Let’s keep walking. Your body will continue to purge until it rids itself of the toxins.”
Unfortunately, Rule was right. He placed his hand on the solid wall and made a door appear that led to a side garden. Once we emerged into the shrubbery, the vomiting began in earnest. He sat patiently on a nearby bench, observing good-naturedly while I puked into the hedges.
Rule… whom I finally remembered was Coeur’s son, and whom Brave told me was even more brutal than his mother.
CHAPTER NINE
Arabella
“Why are you helping me?” I asked, finally able to breathe. The heels of my palms sank into the cool earth. Night had fallen while I was being sick, and the inky sky was splattered with twinkling stars.
“I told you why.”
“Remind me,” I groaned, unable to remember any of the halting conversation up to that point.
He grinned. Rule was beautiful, with flawless skin and amber eyes that were keen and aware, flicking to and from noises beyond us and dragging lazily over me when giving me his attention. His teal suit was such a dark hue that in the darkness, it looked black. Yellow-orange hair curled boyishly around the nape of his neck and his ears, almost hiding the pointed tips. But it was his smile that disarmed me. He grinned more than anyone I’d ever met. Even in the silence between us, even when there was no reason to.
“You are the first player I’ve ever wanted to place a wager on,” he proclaimed.
“Why would you do that?” Every fae in the kingdom—and especially Rule—had to know we were as good as dead.
“Because I think you might actually be able to win.”
I started to scoff, and then wondered if I could use his endorsement to our advantage. “Do you know what obstacles we’ll face?” I asked, hoping he was like Brave and wanted to be rid of Coeur.
“I do not, sadly,” he mused. “The Queen is the only one who knows, as she will be the one to personally construct your challenges. And they will be specifically designed for the pair of you.”
“Then why bet on me? Or on us?”
“On you,” he clarified with a grin. “Only on you. And, because there is a flame within your heart. I can feel it licking at me even now.”
Embarrassed, I straightened and looked up. As I did, a star streaked across the sky.
“See? The heavens favor you.”
“That was a coincidence,” I argued.
From the corner of my eye, I watched him tuck his hands into the pockets of his fine pants and stare up at the sky. “I do not believe in coincidences.”
“Not at all?” I blurted.
He grinned. “Not at all. And neither should you.”
There was one thing that kept ringing through my mind… Carden was a prince, and Coeur called me his heartmate. But why would a prince be looking for work unless he wasn’t a prince at all, but rather a filthy liar? And why would a prince want a girl with nothing to offer? Unless Coeur was lying.
“Watching you think is fascinating,” Rule breathed. “What puzzles you?”
I gave a mirthless laugh. “What doesn’t?”
His grin fell away. “Indeed. I do hope I’m right about you.”
“That I’m not going to die within the next five days? Yeah, me too,” I answered snarkily.
“Do you feel well enough now to return?” he asked.
I did feel okay, but didn’t want to go back in there. Not that I had a real choice. I had to find Carden. I never should have left him alone. “I guess. Thanks for taking me out here. I’m sorry I got sick.”
He stiffened and placed a hand on my elbow. “In the game, you must never be that.”
“Sick?” I questioned.
He shook his head slowly. “You must never be sorry. Don’t show weakness, Arabella. And never apologize for anything. Not even if the Queen demands it.”
“That almost sounds like advice.”
Rule inclined his head. “Can you trust the advice is sound?”
“No,” I answered.
He grin
ned. “There’s the fire. I would hate to see the Queen put it out.”
“You mean your mother?” I prodded.
“Of course. No one else would be capable of extinguishing such a blaze.”
“You aren’t powerful enough to do it?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “Powerful or not, I wouldn’t.”
Rule was frustrating, but was he more brutal than Coeur? Although he helped me tonight, I knew everyone had a dark side, a side they didn’t want to show, but that always managed to come into the light. I would have to wait and see what lay beneath his charming grin. If I made it through tomorrow. And I had to make it. Carden and I had to get out of this place. I’d find Oryn and maybe we’d take a boat north to the Seven Kingdoms. Leaving might be easier than staying, I thought.
He offered me his elbow and I accepted, my knees still quivering under my weight. Rule guided me back through the castle wall, down the winding hallways, and back into the heavy air and carousing, whose volume was near ear-shattering as the fae celebrated our impending doom.
I watched them dance, laugh, and drink themselves into a stupor from the wall between the guards, searching through the great sea of them for Carden. Rule disappeared the moment I stepped through the door, and I wondered if he was as powerful as his mother and if he was also afraid of her. Too afraid to let her see me with him.
Suddenly, a loud gong rang out through the ballroom, bringing the party to a screeching halt. A great clock appeared in the center of the room, gilded and crafted with designs so miniscule, I couldn’t quite make them out. The guards at my left and right stood at attention, counting the number of chimes aloud.
When the twelfth chime sounded, they banged their spears on the ground in unison. The same wind that pushed me toward the sickening faery food and wine swirled around me and drove me across the floor. I tried to fight it the only way I could, by dragging my feet, but when that didn’t work, I dropped to the tile and clawed at it as the wind pulled me to the room’s center.
To the great, golden clock.
Coeur was waiting in front of its face, her heart-shaped lips pressed into angry lines.
Carden stumbled along, stopping beside me. He didn’t reach for my hand this time.
“You must rest,” the Queen said sweetly. “At dawn, the games begin.”
Growing up, my brother had often reminded me that not all poisons taste bitter. Queen Coeur was a bitter poison, one that everyone knew was deadly, which must be avoided at all costs.
I had to be the sweet poison no one expected or could even detect, especially her.
Carden and I were separated and escorted through the crowd, past the fae who were beyond intoxicated, who shouted horrible things and gestured and laughed. Carden was taken from the room first. Just as I was about to pass through the doors, I caught sight of Rule, who simply grinned.
CHAPTER TEN
CARDEN
Day One
Sicker than I’d been in my life, for half the night I vomited into an urn that never filled, until nothing else rose with the heaves. The invisible manservant helped clean me up and put me to bed. Just before dawn, he woke me and quickly strode across the room and out the door. Somehow, I felt like I’d slept for a week instead of a few hours.
My body felt strong. I flexed my hands and watched the muscles move beneath my forearm. No bruises blossomed on my skin. There were no cuts. There was no pain. Coeur had kept the word I was sure she’d broken last night by letting us overindulge on faery wine and food; just the thought of which made my mouth water and stomach turn all at the same time.
A simple pair of breeches and a cotton shirt lay on the bed, both canary yellow. The color reminded me of a lemon cake I’d eaten once when I was a boy. I stared at the confection as it cooled and got in trouble after swiping my finger across the glaze of frosting. The light punishment meted out was worth it. The cake and its icing were delicious.
As if my memory conjured it, the scent of lemons and sugar hit my nose and a steaming hot piece of cake sat in the center of a matching yellow plate on the yellow table beside the bed. The wall coverings were sunshine, and they matched the cheery hue of the walls.
Everything in this place bowed to Coeur’s whims.
I picked up the plate and sniffed the steam, pushing on the sponge until it sprang back. Nothing stung my nose. There was no magic in it. It wasn’t fae food, but had been made by human hands. I didn’t know where it came from, but just like when I was a boy, I wolfed it down without a second thought. Satiated, I dressed quickly and searched the room for a pair of shoes. Dozens of pairs lined the wardrobe’s bottom last night before the revel, but now they were all gone. The Queen wants our feet bare, I realized.
Arabella didn’t wear shoes last night.
The memories from last night came back in a rush. The way Arabella looked when she drank the faery wine and bit into the fig. The way we gorged on the enchanted food we desperately needed. Losing sight of her and then forgetting about her. I rubbed my chest. How could I have forgotten about her? I dragged her into this mess, and then abandoned her at the revel without even realizing it.
She was okay, I reminded myself. I saw her in front of the clock, right before we were escorted from the revel. No harm had befallen her. But I had to make sure not to forget her again. Nothing was safe here. Nothing was what it seemed.
Just then, a pair of guards threw open the door and ordered me to follow them to the throne room. “Queen Coeur is waiting,” they warned.
I walked between them, wondering what was about to happen. Arabella was correct when she said Coeur wouldn’t kill us right away, but it didn’t mean she wouldn’t try to make us think she would. Or make us beg for death.
The guards parted the golden double doors and waited as I walked into the throne room, drawn to the clock in the room’s center like a moth to a flame. The floor teemed with fae. Some I recognized from last night’s festivities; others, I’d never seen before. Tiny leaf-like fae floated in the air next to what looked like frozen water droplets, but within the drops swam miniscule fae with iridescent scales all over their bodies.
Across the room, two matching doors parted and Arabella stepped onto the tile wearing a pale yellow day dress with layers that flared out around her legs. She, too, was barefoot.
A storm roiled in her eyes as we strode toward one another, meeting in the center of the room just in front of the clock. It chimed, its tolls climbing over the ceiling and down the walls, reverberating into our flesh and bone.
We turned to walk toward the throne, where Queen Coeur waited. Gone was the boredom she’d exhibited so often. She sat on the edge of her seat and shrewdly watched our approach.
“Are you okay?” I whispered.
Arabella didn’t miss a step. “I’m fine. You?”
“Fine.”
She blew out a tense breath, vowing, “We fight together, and then we leave this place together. Let’s just get through this day. Let that be our goal.”
She was right – alive or dead, we were a team, and we had to act like it if we were going to have any chance at winning.
“Together,” I parroted, reaching over and squeezing her hand. Strands of her dark hair escaped her bun and fell down into her face. A leather thong was tied around her neck, hanging onto the bodice of her sundress. At the end of the makeshift necklace was a long, sharp piece of mirrored glass.
I opened my mouth to ask what it was, when Coeur stood and the room fell eerily quiet.
“What is that on your neck?” she asked, eyes transfixed on Arabella’s shard of glass.
“A remnant of my past,” Arabella answered elusively.
The Queen clucked her tongue. “The past is important, you know. Most humans prefer to forget it entirely. Why do you wear yours so boldly?”
“Because I want a different future,” Arabella replied,
squaring her shoulders.
“It looks sharp, that piece of mirror,” the Queen began. “Mind that you don’t allow your past to slice you open during the game. I’d hate to lose a player too early because of her own foolishness.”
Arabella’s teeth ground together, but she didn’t snap back at Coeur.
A disturbance moved through the crowd around us and the fae, beast and beauty, parted. “Arabella!” a male voice shouted, cupping his hands around his mouth. Except, he wasn’t real. He was a ghost… his form barely visible.
“Oryn?” she cried, running to him, her hands passing through his body as she reached him. He turned in a circle, shouting her name every few seconds. Arabella waved her arms in front of him and cried out, begging for him to look at her. He held something in his hand… a piece of torn fabric, a piece from Arabella’s clothing...
ARABELLA
“He isn’t here,” Queen Coeur confirmed, walking through Oryn’s apparition and standing between us.
Oryn was alive! I didn’t know how she conjured him, but the witch would die if she hurt my brother. “What have you done to him?”
Coeur smiled. “Nothing. Yet,” she added threateningly.
“He can’t see me,” I whispered, watching Oryn search for me.
“The only thing he sees is a clearing, a fallen tree, and clear, blue skies. He plucked the fabric from a broken branch. Your brother is quite a skilled human hunter. He knows you’re nearby. Shall we invite him to watch the game?” she asked innocently.
“No,” I was quick to say. “Please, leave him be.”
The Queen glanced at Rule over her right shoulder. “Her tether to this one is strong, isn’t it?”
“It’s weaker than it once was, but that tends to happen among siblings as they grow apart.” Rule’s eyes never left mine.
“Please,” I whispered to him, keeping my eyes on Oryn and hoping Coeur thinks I’m begging her for help. Rule might listen. He might be able to dissuade his mother from dragging my brother into this hell.