Unwinnable

by May Dawson

  The labyrinth was vast, and I didn’t seem to be making much headway. I considered just going across the walls and out to the forest, but that wouldn’t be a win—and I wasn’t sure the strange magic that seemed to keep me trapped in the damned labyrinth would even allow it. “Too bad I don’t feel like playing this morning.”

  There was some kind of commotion of voices behind me, an argument, but I couldn’t look back to see what was going on.

  This time when I bounded up onto the wall, three Feddlewig were skittering as fast as they could through the labyrinth, their fangs clicking and clacking together. They already struggled to make the tight turns within the confines of the labyrinth, which was good, because their full-out speed was terrifying.

  I tested my balance on the edge of the wall, moving into a crouch, then stood. There were so many of them.

  I looked back over my shoulder, at the distant end of the labyrinth. There’s no way I could outrun the Feddlewigs. There were so many of them, even though the Fae knights worked tirelessly to stop the monsters that terrorize the towns and cities. I wondered if there was a rip in the cave itself that leads to the land of the Feddlewigs.

  Maybe the monsters would never stop coming.

  I leapt down into the pit to fight the Feddlewigs. This fight would be easier with magic, but luckily the first Feddlewig blocked its two friends from reaching me. It hissed at me, staring at me with those enormous black eyes that seem to look everywhere at once, and then moved toward me with a determined clack-clack. I was pretty sure that clack clack means brunch in Feddlewig.

  I danced away from its grasping mouth and swung with my sword. One of its legs flew off into the wall.

  It stopped abruptly, then scuttled backward in panic, running into the Feddlewig behind. The effect was almost comedic.

  But there was no place for the Feddlewig to go. It thrust its head at me, powerful jaws snapping, but I slid underneath its high body.

  Being in the shadow of its body, between its legs, made a shiver of claustrophobia run down my spine. But I focused on taking out the next leg, then a third, and abruptly the Feddlewig tilted to one side.

  Now the second one could reach me. I leapt and stabbed the Feddlewig through the body, then whirled—my sword came out covered in stinking slime and some of it splattered over me—to face the second Feddlewig.

  The second one was already attacking. Its jaw slammed into my shoulder, but I managed to throw myself forward into it just before the fangs could pierce my jacket. I found myself with a mouthful of fur as I scrambled to get my balance. I was on top of the damned thing.

  Silas and I had talked a lot about strategy, but what the hell. Everything dies when you stab it through the eye, so as the Feddlewig swung around trying to attack me, I jabbed my sword down through its enormous eye. I felt my sword’s tip hit something deep inside and snap. Fuck. I dragged the sword back out as the creature fell.

  I hit the ground hard enough to knock the air out of my lungs, and rolled away, desperate to put some distance between me and the Feddlewig. It was so big that it could crush me even as it was dying.

  I jumped to my feet and looked down at the sword in my hand. The tip had broken off on the Feddlewig’s damned hard skull. My stomach dropped. Now I was down a weapon.

  I looked up to face the Feddlewig, expecting the third one to come at me.

  The Feddlewig was running away toward the cave. It slammed itself into the stone wall in its eagerness to get away from me.

  And the damned stone wall fell.

  “What kind of flimsy workmanship is this?” I yelled as the wall fell into the next, knocking it over. I ran toward one stone wall and bounded up to catch myself, trying to get above the fray.

  The Feddlewig ran desperately toward the cave. One stone wall knocked the Feddlewig sideways, and then it was buried, a cloud of dust rising up as it went still.

  The whole labyrinth was collapsing now like a row of dominos. If I were in the maze, I’d be hit by a falling stone wall and the fight would most likely be over for both me and the Feddlewig.

  Instead, I ran along the top of the walls, moving steadily toward the cave. The thought of going into the cave was terrifying, and yet my instincts told me there was a reason why the Feddlewigs kept coming from inside.

  The true path to victory led inside the mouth of that cave.

  Or the path to the afterlife. Could go either way.

  Behind me, there were shouts as the Fae—and probably my friends—wondered what the hell I was doing.

  These Fae thought so little of us. I’d show them just what shifters could do—even without our magic.

  The stone wall beneath me started to wobble, and I leapt off, landing in the clearing right in front of the caves. In the distance, I could hear shouting.

  I turned to see even more Feddlewigs, some of them trapped beneath stone walls and trying to escape them, their legs flailing. One of them, coated in stone dust, skittered toward me drunkenly, then fell.

  I headed into the cave. Behind me, the Fae roared as I disappeared from view, then their voices faded as I headed deeper into the dark cave.

  I couldn’t shake the feeling I was going to find pulsating spider eggs, and I really didn’t want to run across spider eggs.

  Instead, deep in the cave, I found a shimmer in the darkness.

  A rip.

  Except there was something strange about this rip… I studied it, frowning, trying to figure out what bothered me before I destroyed it.

  Then light flared from the rip as the golden lines of an enormous door shimmered into existence. The gateway was twice my height—it was built for monsters. With the sudden brightness in the cave, I could see the runes carved into either side of the stone wall.

  Someone made this rip.

  A hairy leg emerged from the rip, and I cut it off with what was left of my sword. Then I set to work to destroy the portal. It kept shimmering, warning me that there were more monsters beyond that might come through at any moment. I wondered if someone was using some kind of magic to invite the monsters into the Fae world.

  I might not have my own magic, but I could still ruin someone else’s, by using my sword to break their runes. I scratched the broken sword through the stone, gritting my teeth at the effort. My back and shoulders ached, especially as the adrenaline faded, leaving my muscles sore.

  When I’d destroyed the portal, the shimmer that spread through the cave faded. It was just me, my breath loud in the deep gloom. Sweat trickled down my back, and I stopped and brushed my sleeve over my forehead. I dropped into a crouch, because my body was exhausted, although my heart was still beating fast.

  It was hard to relax in the Fae world.

  That was why I caught a speck of something bright and shining, buried in the dirt floor. I stared at it, then ran my fingertips over the dirt and found something cool and hard to the touch.

  I used the broken sword to dig around it until I worked it up from the ground. Then I picked it up, knocking the dirt off on my jeans.

  A ring—bright white-silver despite the filth that clung to it. Well, there seemed to be some magic there. I went to drop it into the dirt again, but I couldn’t bring myself to. Instead, I turned it in my fingers absently, then slipped it into my pocket.

  On a whim, I grabbed a stick and began to dig through the dirt.

  There was more. Buried here in the dust alongside the portal, there were glittering pieces of jewelry, crowns and bracelets and pendants. I stared at them all, debating taking them for myself, but the Fae wouldn’t take kindly to us stealing from them.

  I should put the ring back. I didn’t need trouble with the Fae; I needed to make them allies.

  But when I put my hand in my pocket with the ring, I couldn’t bring myself to put it back.

  Something about it seemed to call to me.

  It was too quiet in here. I realized with a start that my friends would be worried I was dead. That made me think of Maddie, and how much I’d hurt
her, and I hesitated before pulling a beautiful pendant from the mass of jewels. She deserved more than stolen Fae baubles—hell, she deserved more than I could ever give her—but it felt right to give her something from the Fae world.

  After all, she had me, and apparently I was from the Fae world.

  I buried everything again, a bit deeper than before, and smoothed the dirt over with my foot. I’d want to show Fenig and the Fae knights the remnants of the portal. I wanted them to know what we did for them, in the hopes they would help us too.

  And I hoped fewer Fae would die at the hands of these monsters now.

  Then, with my hand thrust in my pocket turning over the ring, I headed back toward the light.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Maddie

  “Where did he go?” I demanded.

  I had just seen Tyson vanish into the mouth of the cave—into the lair of the Feddlewigs—but I couldn’t quite believe it.

  Penn swore. “Into the nest? Den? Web? I don’t know what the fuck he went into, but I know it was one of his many epically bad ideas.”

  Penn and I were perched high in one of the trees, on branches on separate sides of the thick gray trunk. This tree was so big that it must be hundreds of years old. Thick spreading branches made the tree as easy to climb as a circular ladder, so the Fae offered the tree to us, since we didn’t have their grace. It would have felt more like an act of kindness if they hadn’t invited us up here to watch Tyson fight, to watch him live or die.

  Fragrant white blossoms bloomed among the greenery. The air smelled of honeysuckle, and it would have felt magical if I hadn’t been terrified for Tyson.

  Penn and I traded worried looks. The guys all loved each other—even if they would never admit that out loud—but Penn and Tyson were close as brothers. I was glad he was with me, because I knew it was just as hard for him as it was for me right now.

  I searched for something I could say that would make him feel better.

  But there was nothing to say. It was all up to Tyson now.

  “Did you and Ty make up last night?” he asked suddenly.

  I glanced toward him, feeling unusually shy. “No.”

  Disappointment tightened the lines of his handsome face.

  “But we started,” I amended. “It’ll take time for us to get back to the way things used to be.”

  “Do you think you can really go back to the way things used to be?” he asked.

  I chewed my lower lip. “I mean, I hope so… I hope things aren’t just over…”

  If Tyson died without us having patched up all that broke between us the past few months, I would be destroyed. But I’d be destroyed no matter what, if Tyson didn’t walk out of that cave.

  I leaned forward, willing him to come out, with that grin spread across his face and his usual cocky swagger.

  There was no movement at the mouth of the cave.

  “I didn’t mean it like that,” Penn said abruptly. “I don’t think things will ever be over between the two of you.”

  I turned to study Penn’s face: the dirty blond hair that had grown out a bit lately, curling over his ears in a way that gave Penn a far more cherubic look than I’d expect from him. His face was all hard angles: sharp cheekbones, a long straight nose, a determined chin that gave away just how stubborn he was. He must have felt my gaze, because he looked away from the cave to study me right back.

  “I just meant that things will be different,” he said. “You two hurt each other. But not because you’re bad people.”

  “Gee, thanks,” I said dryly.

  “It’s true,” he said. “You’re both incredibly stubborn.”

  “I’m the one who was right,” I pointed out.

  Penn gave me a skeptical look.

  “I was literally right! I said he was Fae. That we weren’t brother and sister.”

  Penn snorted. “You were correct. Sometimes that’s different than being right, especially when you love someone.”

  “What makes you qualified to give relationship advice?” I demanded. “You’re the same age I am.”

  “I’ve got an outsider’s perspective on the beautiful trainwreck that is you and Tyson.”

  “You’re not that much of an outsider,” I murmured, remembering some spicy nights with both Ty and Penn before everything went to Hell. Their hands caressing my body, their lips against my skin… I bit my lip at the memories all over again.

  Interest sparked in his eyes, as if he remembered them too, but he went on. “Anyway. Just because the two of you are, on occasion, a pair of tenaciously self-righteous crybabies who like to marinate in your feelings—”

  “Your descriptions of the two of us just keep getting meaner the more you try to give me advice.”

  He ignored me and finished, “That doesn’t mean you can’t heal back together…better.”

  “But we should probably stop being so tenaciously self-righteous—what was the rest of that sentence? Is there anything else you want to call me?”

  Penn pulled a face. “Yes, you should. Please don’t push me out of the tree.”

  “I am tempted,” I admitted.

  “I know, you have that look on your face,” he shot back. “I’m on your side here, Mads.”

  “Does there have to be so much name-calling when you’re on my side?”

  “There does when you’re being stupid,” he told me. “What was so complicated that you two couldn’t make up last night? Just apologize and let it go.”

  My temper was flaring, but I huffed a sigh. “Make sure you give Tyson this same speech.”

  “I have,” he said dryly. “Both of you are shit at listening, you know that?”

  “Yeah, I know.” I studied the mouth of the cave. At least having Penn scold me had helped distract me from my fear. Penn was so determined to fix things between Tyson and me. It was sweet—in his own way.

  Tyson emerged from the mouth of the cave. My heart rose, but I still felt cold fear in my stomach in case something terrible struck him from behind.

  He clutched something black and furry in his hand, and I squinted as he waved it back and forth over his head. He strode forward, heading over the broken walls of the labyrinth toward the exit.

  “Is that a spider leg?” I demanded.

  Penn started to answer, but I was already scrambling down the branches as a cheer went up from the crowd. So Tyson had won his trial by combat. My heart sang, but not for the victory. He was alive.

  I jumped the last dozen feet, landing in a crouch on the grass, and then launched myself toward him.

  He chucked the spider leg over his shoulder and opened his arms, catching me around the waist. His warm, hard arms enveloped me as he spun in a circle, lifting my feet from the ground. He grinned at me, but his face was a blur through the sudden tears in my eyes, and I blinked them away. I’d just been so scared for him, and it had been so hard to be helpless instead of being at his side where I belonged.

  “I’m still here, Maddie,” he promised me, setting me down on the ground and pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “I believe you told me in no uncertain terms that I had to survive so I could grovel.”

  I frowned up at him. “I don’t think I said exactly that—”

  “But that’s what you meant.” He slung his arm over my shoulder as the two of us walked toward where the Fae were clambering down from the trees.

  I didn’t want to get into an argument with him right now, especially as we faced the Fae. Fenig was heading toward us, flanked by her knights.

  “You did well,” she said.

  An unearthly sound behind us made me twist. Behind us, the ground itself seemed to heave and rumble as the remnants of the crumpled stone labyrinth sank back into the ground. I had the feeling it would lie dormant for the next victim.

  “Thanks,” Tyson said dryly. “Now, you’ll grant us safe passage where we wish?”

  “As you wish,” she promised. “Within the bounds of the spring court.”

 
“Fantastic.” He hesitated, as if he were weighing his next words. Then he asked, “And can I ask why there was a portal to whatever hell-dimension those spiders come from buried in the cave?”

  Fenig went pale. She glanced at Raura, who stood wide-eyed beside her, and then at Tyson again.

  Then she said, with dignity, “Let’s speak of that privately—”

  One of the small orphan knights ran into the clearing. “There are riders coming from the northwest. Lots of them! Lord Turic is returning!”

  “Great,” Fenig muttered. She leaned close to Tyson and whispered, “Despite all this, I’m not your enemy, Tyson. Do not make the mistake of revealing what you desire to those who are.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Fenig, and half the other fairies, suddenly launched themselves into the air and took flight toward the keep. The rest began to run, either through the trees above—barely shaking the branches as they leapt from one to another—or along the forest floor.

  We were trekking back toward the castle through the trees when we saw the first ripples of riders through the forest beyond.

  Suddenly they burst out of the woods and surrounded us. We came to an abrupt halt as several Fae knights, their faces obscured by bizarre masks, circled us.

  Only Tyson still had his broken sword, and he extended the hilt toward Jensen. Jensen took it without comment. Tyson must be exhausted from the battle, and he knew Jensen would be the better fighter right now.

  Jensen and I traded a look. God, I missed my wolf, and the sense of power and freedom that came with having that beast always wild within me, no matter how deep I buried her.

  One of the riders, who wore a horned silver mask, drew his horse up as he regarded us all. “What do we have here? Humans? Are you lost?”

  “They’re visitors.” It was Fenig’s strong voice, and I felt an unexpected surge of relief as she stepped through the trees.

  Then she knelt, and I realized she was alone—she must have sent her Fae knights to the keep—and I knew that my relief had been premature.