Heterochromia wasn’t an unknown condition. Some people considered it beautiful, unique, an admirable quality even. Only mine wasn’t like most people’s. One of my eyes was jade, and the other was a hue of gold filled with threads of orange—colors perceived as an anomaly.
If my father had the funds for it, he would’ve undoubtedly forced me to wear lenses, as if that would make it disappear. And maybe,maybe, if I had a better financial situation and didn’t depend on the paltry amount he brought home, I would’ve kicked his ass out of the house. With no mercy, second doubts,or pity. All I needed was a life without Lane Sinclair and enough money to hire a caregiver to look after my mother while I worked to put food on the table.
My throat bobbed with a gulp. I had to put those thoughts on pause. Not only because I knew the three of us were bound to die in that shack, but because as miserable as my life was, I had to return. My mother needed me.
Whatever this place was, I was going to find my way back home.
The door piqued my interest again. No matter what awaited me on the other side, it was for my mother that I wouldn’t cower. Though the unknown lurking beyond the door concerned me. What was I going to walk into? I knew what was inside, and knowledge offered me a sense of security, but outside? Outside was something utterly different.
I tapped my finger on the side of my leg before I abandoned the bed with a determined look on my face. My steps made a song on the wooden ground, the floorboards groaning in response to my weight as I approached. The room quieted, breaths held.
Light spilled into the area under the exit, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the air.
With a sharp intake of air, my wrist pressed down on the door handle. The door clicked open, a loud sound blasting into the deadly silence. I cast a glance over my shoulder, finding Theo staring at me with such frightened eyes that it sent a jolt of the same feeling to my limbs.
Georgie’s eyes grew wide, startled by whatever was behind me, but before I could even recoil,somethingflew past me. Instincts kicked in, and my hands came up in front to guard me from the dozens of them, eyes fluttering shut.
Three sounds.
Wings batting. Gasping. Whispers.
As the cacophony eased, I forced my eyes open, arms falling down from the defensive position. My back straightened. I blinked. Repeatedly.
There is no way,I thought, refusing to believe it even with the indisputable evidence floating in front of me.
My eyes narrowed at the creature whose wide smile crinkled the skin around its eyes. I caught it in my palm, pinching and stretching its colored wings. The shades spread across like veins, nearly transparent.
It was tangible. It was real, not some kind of projection. I was holding afairyin my hand.
After I let go of him, as if offended, his hands smoothed over his white shirt, searching for creases. My ears tuned out the surrounding chatter as everyone spoke with a fairy, focusing all of my attention on the one in front of me.
“Quite the miracle, right?” He pushed his lips forward, basking in the way my eyes followed every curve of his body. So thin and sharp, the fairy’s voice was like nails on a chalkboard, surely fitting with the most unsettling sounds I’d ever heard.
“Now…” His voice thickened dramatically. “On a more serious matter…” He snapped his fingers in the air, and a papyrus bolted out of it, swinging from side to side toward my open palms. “I have been entrusted to deliver this to you.”
I caught the paper, skimming over the words and occasionally stealing a glance at him, still trying to wrap my head around the fact that he was afairy.
My heart slammed like a drum in my chest, the room suddenly too small, too crowded. All my life, I had longed for a moment of chaos, envisioning myself in the pages of my books, where destiny transformed with each passing night. I imagined myselfas a heroine, even a side character, anything but ordinary. I pictured the thrilling chase of the next challenge, danger creeping at every corner, and battles that emerged with the promise that the good would win.
When I was younger, I would spend hours in my room, mimicking sword fights with a broom handle, attacking enemies. There, I had always won.
I realized, as I found myself in the shoes of those who I so badly craved to be, that here, victory might not be mine. Perhaps being the main character wasn’t as exciting as I imagined.
Chapter 2
Charisma
Five rules.
My mind spun as I wandered my eyes over the papyrus once again to ensure that the scenarios forming in my head were just a result of my rich imagination, but with each pass through the rules, I became more and more acquainted to the possibility of what the concept of Gods’ Gambit was.
Though I hoped I would be mistaken, the paper said it all: we were about to participate in a survival game where only one of us would be the winner. I couldn’t tell if the orchestrator ofGods’ Gambithad chosen the name metaphorically or describing a trial conceived by gods themselves, but the latter wasn’t as difficult to believe when fairies floated before our eyes.
“Now that you’ve all read the rules of the Gods’ Gambit, we shall proceed to the next step.” The fairy whose wings I pinched not too long ago clapped his hands. “But, before that, I’d like to say there is no reason to be scared.” He glanced at the crowd, a wry smile on his lips. “At least for now.”
We shouldn’t bescared? I snorted at the audacity.
He directed his attention to me. “Is there anything you’d like to say?”
