He flinches.
“Whoa, little jumpy are we? How are you doing?”
Cosmo has been more broody than usual since we stepped into this place.
“I’m fine,” he snaps, obviously anything but fine.
“Come on, bro, it’s like we just entered a fairy tale. What's got your balls twisted?”
“Fairy tales aren’t just about fairies,” he says, giving me one of his classic Drakeward glares. “There are an equal number of villains in the stories: trolls, giants, witches…and, you know, dragons.”
Ugh-oh, I’m a little out of my depth. Wes is the one who can handle Cosmo when he gets feelings.
I give Cos what I hope is an encouraging shrug. “And?”
A vein jumps in his jaw. “And I shouldn’t be here!I’mthe villain. This place feels wrong, like I want to peel my skin off—you know?”
“No, Cos. I truly don’t.”
He makes a h-rumphing sound. “That’s because centaurs are team good-guys. I’m not that, never been that, never will be that. This fucking fairy glade isn’t the kind of place that welcomes me. Truthfully, I expect to be ejected anytime soon.”
Seems a little paranoid to me. “Chill, brother. You’ve really got to do something about your self-esteem.”
“There is nothing wrong with my self-esteem,” he growls. “I know who I am—the most powerful witch of our generation. But I also know I am not a particularly good man.”
Yikes!
“That’s bullshit. You’ve always been a great friend to me, and what would Aurora’s life be like without you?”
We’re walking through a field of delicate flowers. It must be the end of their growing season. The little blue bells droop with a brown tinge around the edge. I stoop down and pick one that still looks perky. “Stop being such a downer, Cos. Stick this behind your ear and put a smile on your face.”
I reach over with the sparkly bluebell and try to snake it into his golden hair.
He gives me an irritated look, but doesn't move away.
The moment the stem touches his skin, the bright blue petals turn black. They don't just wilt; they disintegrate, shriveling into gray dust that falls onto his shoulder like ash. The rot travels down the stem in my hand, stopping just inches from my fingers.
I drop it, horrified.
Max is watching us, his eyes wide. “What the fuck?” he mouths to me.
“What’s wrong?” Cosmo snaps, brushing the ash off his sweater.
“Nothing,” I lie, forcing a smile. “Guess blue just isn’t your color.”
An alarm is sounding in my head. A klaxon blaring ‘wrong, wrong, wrong’.
Maybe Cosmo really is theSauronin this Hobbit’s tale.
Not good. Not good at all.
12
Donovan is looking at me like a slack-jawed idiot.
I don’t know what his problem is, but I don’t have a chance to ask, because Max pushes past me and heads towards the stream.
“Do you think this water is drinkable?” he asks. “I’d give my right paw for more water.”
