As soon as we crossed beyond the first few trees, King Torin held up his hand, motioning for me to stop. “Okay,” he said. “This is the first mile mark. Until the forest, there’s not much to worry about.”
I took in the billowing mist around me, and a cold sense of dread started to dance up my spine. “So what do I need to worry about here?”
“It’s here, in the forest, where I expect people to be severely injured. It’s the other contestants you need to worry about.”
I hugged myself under the cloak. “You didn’t mention this when we signed the contract.”
“Would you have turned down fifty million just because of a little danger?”
No. “Maybe. What, exactly, will we be doing? Fighting each other like stags?”
“It’s a race to select the strong and lithe. Every contest will involve subterfuge, deceit, and lethal aggression.”
My jaw tightened. Five years of slinging cocktails for humans hadn’t exactly prepared me for lethal aggression.
It seemed I’d been wrong. This was nothing like Hitched and Stitched.
“These women will do anything to win,” he went on, “and there’s nothing barring violence in the rules. A fae queen must be ruthless, so it’s really expected. They will use magic to try to bring down anyone in the front. And this is why it’s always a princess who wins. Common fae like you don’t have any magic.”
My stomach was twisting. “Are you going to get to the part where you explain how I can win?”
He turned to me with a dark smile. “Fortunately, not all magic requires that one cast a spell.” Torin reached into a pocket and withdrew three small glass vials. He handed one to me. “Be very careful with this.”
The little vial hummed unnaturally in my hand. Inside, the glass swirled with dark orange gas. “What is it?” I asked.
“It’s an ampule of purified magic.”
“What am I supposed to do with it?”
“That one,” he said, pointing to the vial with the glowing orange gas, “contains a very powerful vapor that will burn your nose and eyes if you inhale it. Throw it behind you as you’re running, and the glass will shatter. Anyone within ten feet will be overwhelmed by the vapor, and they won’t be able to see for at least five minutes.”
Brutal.
He handed me two more glass vials. One was nearly opaque, containing a white vapor, while the last held a pale green liquid. It had a screw cap on it, as opposed to being a single glass ampule.
“What’s this one?” I said, holding up the opaque container.
“That’s basic magic fog. Just like the spice vapor, you throw it on the ground. The difference is, it’s a smoke screen. It won’t hurt anyone, but no one will be able to see a thing. It’s a hundred times thicker than what you see now. Might help you escape in a tough situation.”
Seems useful. “And this other one?” I asked, holding up the green.
“Anti-pain potion. Pretend you’re doing tequila shots at Golden Shamrock and drink the whole thing down in one gulp. If you’re hurt, you won’t feel any pain for at least ten minutes. Be careful if you drink it, though. You can easily injure yourself further because you won’t feel a thing.”
“Let’s hope I don’t have to use that one.”
King Torin’s expression darkened, and I got the distinct impression that he didn’t think that was likely.
He nodded at the forest. “Let’s keep going, shall we?”
He started into the woods, and I followed. The path narrowed, and the temperature dropped as a thick evergreen canopy closed in overhead. Moss carpeted the path between the snow. From the forest floor, massive trees rose, their trunks covered in craggy bark. Though I looked carefully, I didn’t see any faces carved onto them.
The dense canopy of pine needles completely obscured the sky. In a few places, shafts of light filtered down and dappled the floor with golden flecks. Where the light shone brightest, little clusters of shimmering blue and purple butterflies flitted about in the wintry air.
“What did she mean?” My breath clouded around me. “When the washerwoman said death was coming?”
“She never explains, but it could be anything. An old fae could be dying right now. The kingdom itself is in the deadly throes of winter unless I find a queen.” He glanced at me. “Or, of course, someone may die during the race.”
“Cool.”
The air was completely still, and I felt myself holding my breath. It was beautiful, but at the same time, I sensed something wasn’t right. The back of my neck prickled with an uncomfortable sensation, like I was being watched.
“Torin?” I asked, “what sorts of animals live in this forest?”
“Deer and boar. Maybe a few bears.”
“No dragons?”
He frowned. “No, dragons are extinct.”
I took a sip of my coffee, wondering if I’d dreamed up the soaring dragon. But I was sure I’d been awake. “Are you sure they’re all extinct? I saw something in the sky last night that might have been one.”
King Torin stopped short and turned to look at me. His eyes shone pale blue in the dim forest light. “Tell me exactly what you saw.”
“It flew across the moon,” I said. “It was large, with wings. I’m pretty sure it breathed fire.”
He exhaled a cloudy puff of breath. “Did you see where it went?”
I shook my head. “No, it was just a shape against the stars.”
King Torin glanced over my shoulder, then leaned down to speak in a whisper. “And this is part of the death returning to Faerie. It’s not just the winters. Without a queen to generate new magic, evil creatures and destructive forces are bleeding in from the shadows again.”
“Like the dragon?”
“Exactly. It would never have been here ten years ago, but darkness is filling the magical void.” Shadows slid through his eyes. “And unfortunately, Ava, there are worse things out there than dragons.”
