A rustle to my left. I spin, snatching a fallen branch from the ground. Not that it will do any good against these immortals. And now I feel particularly foolish for having abandoned the safety of the cave.
There is a footstep. Another.
I lift the branch with both hands, braced for whatever emerges from the undergrowth.
It’s Arin.
The slender, dark-skinned god emerges into the dappled light. He carries his staff with its serpent-carved head. His clothes are torn, and scabs dot his arms and the side of his neck where a deep puncture wound oozes. I lift my pitiful weapon higher as he regards me in shock.
“Min? What—” But he shakes his head, scours the clearing, before his focus returns to me. “Where is he?”
As if I would tell him. “Gone.”
Staff raised, he steps forward. My pulse flutters a warning. “He’s not dead. The bell didn’t ring. So tell me, Min. Where is Eurus?”
“I just told you. Gone. I don’t know where he went.” And thank the Mother for that.
“You expect me to believe Eurus abandoned you?” Arin shakes his head. Gone are the easy smiles, the flirtatious nature. The sinuous motion of his hands reminds me of a snake. “I have never seen him so protective of anything, much less a woman.” Another step forward. “So where would he go?”
Sweat pours down my face as I am forced into retreat. My mind turns to numbers. The miles separating me from Eurus, how far I might be able to run before Arin catches me. If I scream, it will draw Eurus’ attention, and I want to avoid placing him in danger when he is weakened.
“Keep your distance,” I warn, hefting the branch higher. Leaves crunch beneath my feet, and my back hits a tree.
The curl of Arin’s mouth is a poor facsimile of a smile. “I don’t want to hurt you, Min, but I will, if you do not tell me where he went. Is he lying in wait? Injured?” I keep my expression neutral. “Tell me!”
I swing. Arin leaps nimbly out of the way. He lifts his staff, and I watch, horrified, as the eyes of the carved serpent begin to glow.
“Do you know what this staff does?” Before I can respond, he presses forward. “It has the ability to draw strength from anyone it touches. For immortals, this means their power. But you? You haven’t any powers. So it will draw from you your very essence of life.” Round and round the staff twirls, Arin watching me all the while. “Is that what you want?”
What I want is to survive this day.
“Last chance,” Arin says.
Again, I swing. He dodges, darts in close, grasping my neck and slamming me back against the trunk. The eyes of the snake capture mine. They glow liquid gold, and as I attempt to lash out, my limbs stiffen, curbed by some repressive force as something like acid pools in my lower belly. It sparks, catches fire. It burns.
A wild shriek cuts the air before I bite my tongue, my scream muffled as the pain gouges into my gut.
“Scream as loud as you wish,” he murmurs. “The sooner Eurus hears you, the faster he will come.”
The wrenching sensation sharpens. It feels like my ribs are being pried apart, my internal organs rearranged in uncomfortable ways.Say nothing. This is not the worst you have endured.My only hope is that Arin will decide to keep me alive as leverage against Eurus.
Another twist of his staff, and my knees buckle. Numbness consumes my fingertips, spreads up my arms. The pain erupts through my chest, and my cry crumbles.Mother of Earth, I plead.Help me.
“Is this a tea party?” croons an icy voice I don’t recognize. “Why did I not receive an invitation? You know I dearly love tea.”
Arin releases me. I collapse into a ball, shuddering. My ears are ringing, a high-pitched whistle burrowing straight through my temples like a thousand threads of white lightning. It takes a great effort to lift my head, and every slight motion washes my body in pain.
When the fog finally recedes, revealing who has stepped into the clearing, my stomach drops. One of the Fates.
This sister appears to have fought the forest and lost. Multiple lacerations mar her chest and arms where the fabric of her tunic has torn away.
She limps into the clearing, teeth bared. “Didn’t I tell you I would find you, Arin? Didn’t I promise your death would hurt?”
The goddess stumbles, but manages to catch herself against a tree, panting. “You think you can kill my sisters and get away with it?”
Her gaze then shifts to me. They are vacant, those eyes, like a hearth gone cold. “And the mortal. Escaped the cave, did you?” As my heart stutters in comprehension, the Fate’s lips curl in satisfaction. “My sisters and I thought your participation would be a delightful addition. But where is the East Wind, I wonder? Too focused on protecting his weak mortal to win?”
She sneers before returning her attention to Arin, who trips backward, staff raised. And as the Fate draws a dagger from her belt,I bolt in the opposite direction, Arin’s screams chasing me into the forest’s deep.
