“I told you, we don’t need extraction. We’re not in danger. I don’t want to leave the race,” I stated as plainly as possible. “I used the ring so you would pick up Gen and Zee. I couldn’t just leave them. It’s not right.”
Tears rolled down my face, the taste of salt sharp on my lips. “Gen and Zee were good people. They deserved more than this and you…” not sure if I was jabbing my angry finger at the faeries, the camera, the world… “You left them there. Left their bodies to rot. Now you can take them home where they belong. To their families. I used the ring for them, not for us.”
The two faeries exchanged quiet words, and then one held up a finger to his ear, to an earpiece tucked inside his pointed ear. He was listening to instructions. Then he nodded.
“The producers would like me to relate that you have not been disqualified. We understand that the use of the ring was not for purposes of extraction.”
Relief welled in me.
“You will not be given a new emergency ring. Each competitor is entitled to one.”
I blinked at that before my eyes narrowed. Assholes. I opened my mouth to protest when Orin’s hand closed around mine. “It’s fine, we only need one. I have mine.” He tugged me back towards the mountain behind us. “Let’s go before they change their minds,” he hissed.
“You’ll take their bodies?” I called, letting him drag me away.
The faerie nodded, and I knew it was as good as I was going to get. We took off across the field, Ben huffing behind us.
“Damn it, Jacq,” Orin panted. “Never do something like that again. I get that you have a hero complex or something, but they were already gone. You didn’t help, and you almost got us kicked out of the race.”
My words were kindling to the fury that was already building within me at FFR’s treatment of Gen and Zee. “Sorry my hero complex got in the way of your…anti-hero complex.”
“That’s not a thing,” Orin glared sideways at me.
“Well, I don’t know what to call it when a person refuses to lift a finger to help anyone but themselves.”
“A healthy sense of self-preservation? Besides, if you wanted to use a ring, why not use theirs?”
“I did. I tried Zee’s, and nothing happened. I didn’t use mine lightly.”
That shut him up. “Why didn’t it work?”
“If it had worked in the first place they’d probably be alive right now. Something is going on, and I think the people running the FFR are in on it.”
Orin goggled at me. “You think they let them die purposely?”
“I don’t know, Orin,” I slowed to a walk, panting. “I just know two smart competitors are dead, and it doesn’t make a lick of sense.”
Orin huffed and threw Zee’s pack to the ground. He knelt down and unzipped the bag. “I want to see what we have in those packs. We need food. Water.”
It felt wrong to open Genevieve’s pack, but I had to remind myself that it would be no use to her now. The stuff inside might save our lives.
Orin emptied the contents of Zee’s bag onto the ground, and I followed suit, pouring everything belonging to Genevieve on top. There wasn’t much, but some of it would come in handy. A bit of food, a knife, a crossbow, some arrows, some sort of magic dust. And a letter.
The food—just a couple of bags of nuts and some browning apple slices—I doled out between Orin and me.
“I can shoot,” I said, picking the crossbow up in limp fingers. The image of Zee’s vacant eyes, the purple of her tattoos against unnaturally pale skin flashed in my mind, and my stomach roiled.
“Take it,” Orin said, passing me the arrows still in their quiver. “I’ll take the magic dust and the knife.” He took both and put them back in Zee’s pack.
“What about this?” I picked up the letter. It seemed a shame to leave it behind. What if it was the last correspondence Genevieve or Zee ever received? It could be a letter full of I love you’s from one of their mothers. It could be a love letter, though I didn’t know Genevieve or Zee well enough to know if either had a significant other at home. My heart broke as I thought of their families waking up to the news that they’d never see their daughters again.
I picked the letter up to shove it back in Gen’s pack when the handwriting stopped me in my tracks. Those curls on the letters. Cheerful and perky. Surely…no. My hands felt numb as I fumbled the letter out of its envelope. It was folded in the shape of a flower. My eyes widened in shock as all the air in my lungs seemed to leave me. This letter was from my sister.
23
The letter shook in my hands like a leaf in a gale. I wanted to stroke the paper, to touch something my sister’s hands had touched. This letter was proof my sister was alive. Proof that she was here. In an instant, my relief bloomed into hurt. If she could send a letter over the Hedge to Gen, then why hadn’t she sent one to me? To my parents…just to let us know that she was all right? I almost ripped the thick paper as I unfolded the flower to read what was inside.
My eager eyes gobbled up the words, trying to make sense of the missive. It was clear they were familiar, that they’d been corresponding, for there weas no “How are you” or catching up. Cass had dived right in, her normally sweet handwriting, filled with curls and flourishes, seemed abrupt and hurried.
Gen-
Double bad news. We didn’t find a MED in Caerleon. Doesn’t mean it’s not there. Worse, there’s been a break-in at HQ. We’ve had to move. It means you could be compromised. We know the Brotherhood has infiltrated the FFR. Be careful.
-Cass
The words chilled me to my core even as the questions burned within me. What the hell was a MED? Whose HQ? Who was Cass with? Was she free? The letter didn’t sound as if she had been taken or was being held against her will. But if she was free…then why had she stayed away? And the Brotherhood…That was what I’d heard Patricia talking about with Niall back at the start of the race. Who were they and what did Patricia and Niall have to do with my sister?
There was something sinister going on, and I didn’t like it. Not one bit. This just compounded my thought that Genevieve and Zee’s deaths weren’t accidental.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Orin said, crouching down behind me and reading over my shoulder.
For once, his presence didn’t bother me—he grounded me, tying me back to this place. I opened my mouth to explain when Ben’s blinking light entered my vision. I didn’t know who they were trying to stop, but it probably wouldn’t help Cass’s cause if I outed her on worldwide television. I quickly folded the letter and shoved it back in the envelope. “Just some private letter.” If I could get Orin alone without Ben’s blinking eye, I’d tell him. Maybe he’d know something. “I wish I could tell where it came from. Maybe we could notify them about Gen.”
Orin took the envelope from me, turning it over. “It’s from Elfame.” He pointed at a stamp of a twisting current of wind. “It’s the sign of the Slyph Couriers. They deliver mail and packages throughout Faerwild.”
“So the letter came from here,” I said.
“Yes. They’re based in Elfame, though. The writer’s probably there.”
I surged to my feet. “Let’s go,” I said.
Orin stood, crossing his arms before him. “What? To Elfame?”
“Yes, come on!”
“Jacq. What is going on with you? We need to get to the Emerald Mountain. We need to finish the trial. Remember? We both worked hard to be here.” His eyes flicked to Ben. “We both have reasons.”
But my reason was to find Cass, and now I’d found her. I needed to get to her. I wanted to scream it at him, to make him understand. But…I faltered. “How many people live in Elfame?” I asked.
“People? Not many.”
I rolled my eyes. “Faeries. Magical creatures. You know what I mean.”
“Several hundred thousand, I think.”
I blanched. The letter didn’t have a return address on it. Looking for Cass would be like trying to f
ind a needle in a haystack. Especially if she didn’t want to be found. Which it seemed possible she didn’t. The Faerie king’s boon was still my best chance of finding her. I couldn’t leave. I needed to finish this race.
“Okay,” I said, shoving the letter in Gen’s pack and throwing it over my shoulder. “Let’s finish this.”
“You mean this trial. You realize there are still two more trials to go before the race is over?”
I hissed, motioning him forward. “Yes, yes. Let’s just get to the checkpoint and fight whatever monster they throw at us.”
“The sword seems to indicate it’s a dragon.”
I closed my eyes, fighting my frustration. I didn’t have time to banter with Orin. I didn’t have time for this damn race. Now that I knew Cass was alive and here, it was all I could think of. The urge to move, to run, to find her was overwhelming. “Lead the way,” I said through gritted teeth.
Orin forged ahead.
We trekked up the side of the mountain as the tall grass gave way to rocks and scree fields. My legs burned with the effort of the ascent, even as my stomach growled. I was weak with hunger, my muscles crying out for fuel. My mind, which normally settled into a Zen-like state when I exerted myself, refused to be silent, spinning in circles over Cass’s sudden return to my life, over Genevieve’s death. How long had the two girls been writing to each other? Had Gen known all along where Cass was, even as she sat at our kitchen table and tearfully told the police she’d seen nothing? I wanted nothing more than to ask her. But she was dead, along with whatever answers she held.
Orin stopped for a moment, pulling a canteen from Zee’s pack. He took a swig and passed it to me. The water was warm and metallic tasting. I longed for a crisp cold drink of pure water. Or a beer. God, a cold beer sounded nice right about now.
“Do you know where we’re going?” I asked, more grumpily than was necessary. “Or are we just traipsing up the hill, hoping we stumble upon something?”
Orin pointed at a jagged outcropping of rock on the mountain face above us. It looked far, though I had lost my sense of distance in this monotonous landscape of rock and sky. “We’ll find it up there.”
I nodded wearily, too tired to question him. If we didn’t find it there, I thought I’d just curl up and die. My head was pounding, and my thoughts felt fuzzy. “Do we have any more food?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Come on,” he grabbed my hand and pulled me forward. “There will be a feast at the end of this trial. We’ll have a day of rest, with real beds and everything.”
“Real beds,” I moaned. “Feast.”
“I want buttermilk pancakes with maple syrup and berries and enough whipped cream to drown in,” Orin said, his eyes fixed before him.
“They have pancakes in Faerwild?” I asked.
“We’re not complete savages,” he looked sideways at me.
“Silly me,” I said. “I’m sure the Red Caps enjoy a side of waffles with their meal of human flesh.”
“Ok well, some faeries are savages. Not me.”
That was becoming clear to me in a way that made me uneasy. I wasn’t sure at what point it had shifted, but Orin was no longer my enemy. I no longer loathed him or feared him. I was contemplating this strange turn of events when a shadow passed above us.
I looked up wearily, expecting to see a cloud passing over the sun. What I saw was a very large, very huge red dragon. Headed directly for us.
“Orin,” I screamed as the beast dipped low, its talons outstretched towards us. I barreled into Orin, knocking him down towards the rocky ground, but the dragon was too fast. Those wicked talons, as long as my forearms, closed around us and hoisted us up into the air.
I’m not proud of the bloodcurdling scream that exploded from me, but you try getting picked up by a mother-effing dragon and see if you keep your cool.
Orin and I were sandwiched together between the creature’s talons, myself on top of him, Orin struggling beneath me. “Do…something…” I gasped, as Orin pulled one hand free to perform a spell.
But the dragon was winging towards the sky, bearing us higher and higher into the air. “I’m afraid…it’ll drop us,” he groaned, as I accidentally elbowed him in the side trying to better secure my own hold. Because now I was getting less afraid of being in the dragon’s talons, and starting to worry about what would happen if we fell out. My eyes opened wide as realization crashed into me. “Oh god,” I said, meeting Orin’s wide black eyes. “Gen. Zee. Crushed in the middle of a field…”
The dragon was swooping over the field below its mountain, banking around.
“It’s going to drop us,” Orin whispered, the fear evident in his voice. He was afraid of heights, and at this point, I could hardly blame him.
“Do you know a flying spell?” I asked desperately.
“No—” Orin began, but the rest of his answer was lost to the wind. For the dragon opened its claws and released us into the wide blue sky.
24
My body dropped into freefall. The wind howled past my ears as my stomach lurched upwards. I tried to grab hold of Orin, though with him falling at roughly the same speed as me, it was a pointless endeavor.
My mind raced for some way out of this even as I realized that there was none. I was going to die. I was going to be flattened on the ground like the pancakes we’d been talking about only moments before, whether I held Orin’s hand or not. I instinctively felt for the ring on my finger. The ring that would get us out of this, but it was already gone. I’d used the only chance of survival available to me. I screamed at Orin to use his, but his eyes were clenched shut, and the deafening wind that flew past us gobbled up my words. He was petrified with panic—past the point of reason.
And yet, something spurred me on, urged me to reach him. I realized what it was in a flash. I didn’t want to die alone. And so, in my final moments, as the ground rushed up to meet us, my hand sought his. As we made contact and our fingers entwined, it became apparent that even his magic could not save us. I tried to scream at him to use the ring, but my words were whipped from me. I couldn’t reach his other hand with the ring.
Something around my neck freed itself from my jacket and whipped me in my face. Tristam’s necklace. A singular lance of hope shot through me. He’d told me to use it in an emergency. With the ground racing up to meet us, I figured this constituted an emergency. Clasping my hand around the pendant, with the last breath I was ever going to take, I screamed out the word Tristam had taught me and prayed I’d get it right.
“Diogelwch!”
I closed my eyes mere feet from the ground and waited for either the quickness of death or a miracle. When the inevitable crash didn’t come, and the howling wind turned into an eerie silence, I opened my eyes. Below me was a dark stretch of dirt. Before my senses told me I was suspended in mid-air, the magic or whatever it was that was holding me up faded, and both Orin and I fell the couple of feet to the ground with a lurch.
I groaned, laying there for a moment, letting my hammering heart slow.
“What the…” Orin pulled his hand from mine and used it to dust himself off. The landing had been much softer than it would have been without Tristam’s talisman, but it still smarted as I turned around and brought myself into a sitting position.
I was about to tell Orin, with great glee, that Tristam had been the one to save us when I realized we weren’t exactly where I expected us to be. I’d thought we would land directly under where the dragon had dropped us. My assumption was that the talisman had slowed our descent and softened our impact. That assumption was very clearly wrong. For I was now looking at four dark walls and a dark ceiling above us.
“What the hell happened? I didn’t do this,” Orin said with a perplexed expression on his face. He gazed at his hands as though they had somehow produced magic without his commanding them to.
“I know. It wasn’t you.” I put my hand on his and lowered it so he’d concentrate on me and what I had to say. Now, if only I c
ould figure out what that was. Looking around, we were in a dark cave with a tunnel leading off into pitch blackness. The only illumination was a very faint blue light that had no discernible source. It made Orin look even paler than he usually did and his black hair was highlighted with blue. “I brought us here.”
“I’ll forgo the how for now,” he said, glancing around him, “and move straight onto the why…and for that matter the where. Where exactly are we?”
I sighed, knowing I’d have to come clean about Tristam and the talisman. And how…it now seemed that the talisman was not in fact designed to save me. But to trap me. Embarrassment heated my face. Like a lovesick little puppy I’d fallen for his pretty face and believed every word he said. Orin was going to have a field day when I told him.
“I don’t know where we are. To be honest, I suspect wherever it is, it’s not going to be easy to get out of. I didn’t actually bring us here on purpose. I was trying to save our lives…with this.” I pulled the chain out from around my neck and held the pendant up in the pale light so Orin could get a good look at it.
“That’s the royal crest,” he said, pulling the chain from between my fingers and examining it more closely. “Where did you get this fro…Oh, you didn’t?”
My stomach churned as he looked back up at me. “Tristam gave this to you, didn’t he? And you accepted it?”
I shifted uncomfortably on my feet. “In my defense, it did just save our lives. Without it, we’d be nothing more than pulp in a field somewhere.”
“Granted, but we're not really in a much better situation now, are we?”
“We’re alive,” I huffed. “I’d say that’s moderately better than being dead.”
Orin shrugged his shoulders and took off down the tunnel. I raced after him before he was swallowed up entirely by the darkness.
I could hear him mumbling to himself under his breath the whole way up the tunnel. Every so often I’d catch the odd word, like idiot or pathetic.
The Sorcery Trial (The Faerie Race Book 1) Page 16