So I watch Briar and wait for any sign of Kassandra’s magic urging her forward. But my supervisor does not move at all.
Murmurs under the tent.
A thought sinks through me like a river stone. Kassandra is delaying because moving back means that Briar will need to match up with Benji.
Benji spins around, facing me, confused.It’ll be okay,I try to convey. My only hope is that Briar will pity him.
But then he takes a step back, moving closer to the Pith.
Dominik lets out a laugh. “What are you—”
The boy moves backward again, landing on Briar’s spot. He moves back again and again and again, spiraling inward, closer to the center.
I understand. The rules say the faerie must move backward. But they never specified that they had to be facing forward when they did it.
Benji retreats backward into the Pith. The boy clenches his fist, trembling as realization dawns. He bends down and wraps his small fist around the prize. He holds it up—the golden coin glinting in the sun.
He won.
Kassandra won.
We won.
But under the tent, the males do not stir, even if the plane does. Maxian and Dominik stare at the board with tight jaws, though the king tries to laugh his off.
Kassandra strolls to congratulate Benji—the least-titled among them winning with the weakest of faeries. For even with crowns and callings like head of House, they are not a worthy opponent of hers.
Then the plane floods with furious energy, like a raging river, and I sink to my knees beneath its surface.
Chapter Eighteen
The other faeries drop withme. The grass is scratchy, poking through my skirts. In and out, I breathe, head swarming with the sudden rush of power, the world spinning. Beneath the tent, Maxian laughs loudly, forcefully.
“Don’t be a sore loser, Dom.”
“She cheated,” he snaps.
“Technically, she followed the rules,” the executioner says.
“Pull in your genius,” the king says. “That’s an order.”
The spinning slows, then stops. I clutch my stomach and exhale through the dark spots blotting my vision.
“Faeries,” the king calls. “Join us under the tent for some well-deserved water and cake.”
Sugary cake is the last food I crave at this moment, instead aching for bread or a ginger tea. Still, I brush off my skirts.
“I won,” a small voice says. “I won.”
Standing, I take in a shocked Benji, blinking, showing me the coin.
“You did.” I smile.
“How?” he asks. “Why me and not the other lady?”
“I…don’t know.”
Kassandra does much that makes little sense.
