I stiffen. “OK. H-how exactly are we going to switch places with the real contestants?”
Taron nods at the water. “In a few minutes, a watercraft will approach. The helmsman owes Madame Vera. He’ll fake a broken fin, and the real competitors will get off while he pretends to inspect the damage. You’ll cause a distraction, and the two of us will subdue them.”
I laugh. “A distraction? What exactly do you want me to do?”
“I’m sure you’ll think of something.”
I shoot him a glare, fingers bunching into fists to stifle the pulsating energy gathering in my palms. He thinks he holds all the cards and that he can boss me around because he has some kind of leverage.
But we’re both ensnared in this deadly game. Which means Madame Vera’s regard for his life can’t be any warmer than it is for mine.
Taron turns his back to me, crossing his arms. Leverage or not, he’s right. For now, for Elara, I have to do what he says.
A sudden rush of water in the distance breaks the stretching silence. A watercraft is approaching.
“Be ready – here they come,” the burly man barks, and we duck behind the foliage together.
The watercraft glides to a halt alongside the jetty. Its rounded hull is textured by the natural grain of rich, dark wood, carved motifs of swirling currents and leaping fish. Inlaid shells and stones shimmer softly, reflecting the morning light like ripples on water.
A sharp female voice pierces the air. “What’s happening? Why have we stopped?”
From my concealed spot, I can see the helmsman feigning concern. “Apologies,” I hear him respond, glancing at the back of the watercraft. “Seems one of the fins is broken.”
“So, what? Are you expecting us to get out?” the female voice snaps.
“For a minute, please,” says the helmsman. “I won’t be long.”
“This is ridiculous. Absolutely outrageous.”
The helmsman pulls a wooden lever by the side of his seat at the front of the vessel, and the arched canopy overhead, made of vines and woven branches, gracefully retracts.
Two passengers step out on to the jetty – the disgruntled girl, with a fiery-red pixie cut to match her attitude, ignoring the hand offered by the tall, lanky boy next to her, a chestnut fringe falling across his face.
She turns back to face the helmsman. “Come on! Chop-chop,” she barks. “We’re actually in a hurry here. I’ve still got to pick up my banquet gown from the tailor.”
What a rich brat.I shouldn’t have expected anything less from a privately trained team. Her wealth is as clear as the air of superiority in her accent, undeserved privilege dripping from her every word. At least she makes what we’re about to do a tad bit easier.
“Go on,” hisses Taron.
I lunge forward, pretending to stumble from our concealed spot to the edge of the waterway. “Help me,please… Help!” I screech. My hands are in my hair, my bottom lip trembling as I look behind me in fake terror. “Please, don’t let him hurt me!”
The girl takes a step away from me, a hint of fear in her eyes, but her teammate rushes forward, which means I have him right where I want him.
“Please, you have to help me,” I say again, throwing myself at him. “He’s after me… He’s too strong…”
“Who?” The girl demands. “Who’s after you?”
I point a shaky finger through the trees at where Taron is standing. I feel a flicker of satisfaction at what I imagine is his confusion. He never specified what kind of distraction he wanted, but I can guarantee this isn’t it. Still, he doesn’t have a choice.
If he wants the plan to work, he has to play his part.
There’s a pause, and then he bursts out of the undergrowth. The two competitors regard him with suspicion, trying to make sense of the bizarre situation.
I give another shriek. “H-he cornered me in the forest.”
“What do you want with her?” the lanky boy asks, placing a protective hand on my shoulder. It makes me feel guilty again. Clearly, he’s rich but nice.How irritating.
“Listen, creep,” he says, nostrils flaring, “either you leave this girl alone, or I make you.”
