Maddox’s expression hardened, his suspicion crystallizing into something closer to hostility. No surprise there.
“The ferryman gave me some tips.” My words tumbled out faster than I could organize them properly. “Everyone listen!” Only a few of the others stopped jogging toward the tables, turning back to look before shaking their heads and continuing. “The ferryman said to take food and water when they offered supplies, but no weapons. Weapons aren’t allowed.”
Maddox chuckled. “You took advice from a ferryman, some worker who pushes a boat around?” He gestured toward the sprinting groups with a sharp, angry movement. “We can’t stand around while everyone else claims the best supplies.”
“Think about it for one second, would you?” Desperation made my voice sharper. “Why would they lay out everything we could possibly need like this is a free-for-the-grabbing merchant’s stall?”
“My research agrees with her caution,” Kerralyn said, her journal open in her hands. Pages fluttered in the breeze as she searched forspecific passages. “The few references I found to the Rite of Bonds emphasized restraint and careful observation. Those who rushed in unprepared faced…” As her gaze met mine, she swallowed hard. “Significant mortality rates.”
Lexie and Derren exchanged one of those looks that spoke of years of shared understanding, of entire conversations compressed into a single glance. Derren gave a sharp nod that showed both agreement and grim acceptance.
“We trust your judgment,” Lexie said.
Bryson studied me before eyeing the tables like they might vanish if we blinked.
“She’s right,” Derren said. But I caught the way he looked at me, like he was deciding whether I was an asset or a threat.
Maddox was already striding toward the tables, his body coiled with frustration. “This is stupid. While we stand here debating, they’re taking everything we might need.”
Jaxon hesitated between us, torn between his brother’s confidence and the growing unease written across the rest of our faces. His fingers worked at his leather bracelet, twisting it around his wrist as he struggled to decide what to do.
“Look,” Maddox said, turning back, his tone only vaguely reasonable. “I’ve watched out for Jaxon from the day he was born. Fates know our parents didn’t care enough to do it. I’m not going to let him die, and that means I need weapons.”
“Do what you want,” I snarled. “I warned you. Don’t say I didn’t. I’m only taking food and water and plenty of it, but I’m not touching anything else.”
I moved around them, rushing toward the tables.
The cinderhawk swept down from above, its wings spread wide as it flew directly into my path. Its flapping wings stirred my hair, its feathers brushing my cheek. I stumbled backward against Kerralyn, who released an oomph and dropped her journal.
“By the fates, bird. Get the fuck out of our way.” Maddoxshouldered past me, shooting me a glare. “Call it off or I’ll take care of it permanently.”
The hawk settled on the ground in front of me, head cocked. A harsh cry erupted from its throat.
One of the sprinting groups reached the tables and started grabbing whatever they could. A guy with flame-red hair hefted a sword above his head like a trophy, flipping it around as he sashayed in a circle, his friends swearing and ducking to keep from losing their heads.
“See?” Maddox shouted. “Nothing bad’s happening. Just?—”
The petals of a blossom the size of a trencher beside the man snapped open, unfurling with an obscene beauty that only belonged in nightmares. Colors shifted across its surface, purple bleeding to gold bleeding to deepest crimson.
His sword dropping to his side, he turned toward the blossom with a smile of pure wonder.
He leaned in closer.
Someone shouted. “Wait?—”
The blossom shivered, and the center yawned open, exposing rows of jagged teeth that gleamed in the sunlight.
Then the guy screamed.
The flower struck with a slick, wet sound, engulfing him to his waist. He kicked and thrashed, vines curling around his body like a garland. One boot popped off, tumbling across the grass, splattered with blood. His sword slithered from his grip and fell to the ground while the plant jerked and gulped, swallowing him down fast.
His scream cut off, to the stunned silence of the rest of us.
My stomach lurched.
I fought to hold it together, but a high-pitched sound clawed its way up my throat. I bit the inside of my cheek hard enough to taste blood.
I couldn’t move. My feet were locked to the ground as if a plant had popped up out of the grass nearby and was coming for me, too.
