I eyeball the deep red liquid. That better be wine.
Nobody makes a move to take a drink. Have we decided it’s blood? Or does the instruction not to eat anything mean drinks too? Did Mr. Yak specify? I can’t remember.
“We have nothing to discuss with you,” Theo declares. “We are simply passing through.”
The queen’s eyes flash with power. “Nobody passes through Frostmere without my permission.”
“Apologies,” Charming says. “We meant no disrespect.”
“Accepted. Now enjoy my hospitality.”
“I’m stuffed,” I declare. I’m not.
Hart’s eyes snap to mine, and his lips twitch. Oh, he’s thinking naughty naughty things. I lift my eyebrow in return.
“We can just be on our way and out of your hair,” Theo says as he hooks a thumb over his shoulder.
She shakes her head. “There’s an ancient legend.”
“Isn’t there always,” Gwyneth replies with a groan.
The queen ignores her. “A realm bound by fate. A kingdom waiting for its true ruler.”
As far as legends go, this one isn’t too bad. Nobody seems to be dying, so it’s better than the one I’m tangled up in.
“A final sacrifice needed—one willing soul who, upon their death, will unlock the magic that will give her absolute dominion over the realm.” She stares at me. “I think we all know whose soul that is.”
Silence blankets the room. I take it back, immediately and wholeheartedly. Everywhere I land, I seem doomed. For once it would be nice for someone to sayhey, you wandered into thisdestiny, and now you get free sausage for life.Nobody thought to write that, but they should have.
“I can see this isn’t going to end well,” Nash grumbles.
“Fight our way out?” Hart checks.
“Agreed.”
With what? These are ice warriors who shatter at will and reform.
Wait, they are ice warriors... I glance at Theo, who blinks back at me. This mind read I get loud and clear. We have a fire-breathing dragon as our secret weapon, which is why everyone seems less bothered than I. Why did it take me this long to figure it out?
“If you won’t drink, you should dance,” the queen says.
Dance? Nobody said anything about dancing. What harm can come of it if it placates a crazy monarch into letting us go without consequence? A quick waltz and we can be free.
Soft, ethereal music swirls around us. Nash stiffens at my side, and a low growl rumbles in his chest. Maybe he hates dancing? Well, he’ll have to man up. The music grows louder, and my fingers tap in rhythm against the table. The air becomes heavy, something sickly and sweet wrapping around us like warm honey.
“Debbie,” Eron shouts from Hart’s pocket. “I do not like this. Show me what is happening.”
Where has my mirror man been?
Hart withdraws the small mirror and shows him the room. Eron gasps. “You.”
The queen’s lips quirk. “Too late, my king. The dance has already begun.”
My king? They know each other?
“Get out, all of you now,” Eron hollers. But his voice is muffled, drifting away like the beat is carrying him out of the room.
My foot taps, and my fingers snap, unbidden, and out of my control.Oh, no.Malachi wriggles his shoulders, and Hart tilts his head to the side.
