“Sil has sent for it,” I lie. That makes three. “I’d hate to tell him you’ve disobeyed a Player. Are you so ungrateful for your position here?”
Her eyes widen, and she snatches the arrowhead from her hip, thrusting it toward me. “Take it!”
Don’t mind if I do,I think, stepping forward and reaching my hand out to clasp the object.
We both seem to notice my mistake at the same time. Me, when I glimpse the mirror leaning on the wall behind her and notice the jacket I stupidly unbuttoned. And Marigold, when those cold eyes land on the blistering remains of my scorched mark peeking out from under the bandage at my throat.
Her hands tighten around the arrowhead just as I grasp it. “Marked,” she whispers with disgust.
Well. I guess her vision isn’tthatbad.
My eyes flicker to the painting of Jude as the naivete of the legend hits me.
She paints. She makes the props. She can see just fine.
Marigold tugs the arrowhead back with alarming strength. But I’m stubborn, and so I go with it, flying forward and finding myself closer to a mythical monster than I ever wanted to be.
“Oh, this? Just stage makeup!” I squeak. Four lies.
Marigold stares at me the way one would expect an ancient monster you’re trying to gaslight would stare.Definitelynot blind. Her eyes examine me, narrowing as she opens her mouth. I’ve been so focused on her teeth being gold that I hadn’t noticed they’re also sharpened into little points. This is easier to observe when they’re two inches from my face.
Something bites into my side, and I shriek as she extracts what I can only describe as tiny daggers for fingernails. “Mortal,” she sneers.
The crisis council in my head panics and starts tearing open old files for any helpful information. Weaknesses. Bargaining tools.Something.
Her dagger hand aims for my heart now, and all I can think is the little Reality Suspension trick Jude did earlier would be handy right about now.
Jude.My eyes swivel past her, where the striking painting of him rests on the easel.
“Jude sent me!” I shout in a panic. Something softens in her eyes at the name, so I run with my fifth lie. “With a message. I can prove it.”
“Jude,” she repeats, her grip on me loosening just a little, and I free a hand.
Another passage from the text comes back to me, and I grab hold of it:As Prop Master,Marigold is known to hoard beautiful things.
I dip my hand into my jacket pocket, extracting the golden Finders Keepers ring Jude gave me when we first met. “Here,” I rasp, holding it between us as light bounces off its surface.Sorry, Haris.
I mentally make a note to swipe more jewelry from Jude at my earliest convenience. It can’t betoohard to snatch one of those rings he leaves on his vanity.
Marigold covers a gasp with her hand but doesn’t reach to grab the ring.
I push my hand out farther. “He told me to give you this…as a token of his love.”
Six lies now. It feels easier.
Her eyes flicker down to the ring again as she lowers her hand, a gleeful smile pulling at the corners of her mouth. “Jude,” she repeats, giddy this time. Or as giddy as a monster can be, I guess.
“He wishes to wed,” I add for extra sparkle. “He’ll send for you soon.”
I’m not sure she hears me. But she drops the arrowhead, which I catch as she tugs the ring from my fingers and examines it carefully between her sharp fingernails.
Meanwhile, I take my cue to leave. I’m backing toward the door when my eyes catch on something heavy and golden strapped at her ankle, secured to the wall.
A chain. Agoldenchain. The Eleutheraen gold still in my blood sings to its neighbor. No wonder she never leaves this cave. Shecan’t.
As I make a hasty exit for the stairs, I decide I’ll be paying Marigold another visit.
“Don’t tell anyone about this, and I might even bring you the finger that ring came from,” I call over my shoulder as I shut the door behind me, this time not lying.
