But then she pressed the attack and I did not have any more time for wondering.
The queen’s announcements always arrived with pageantry. The clans had to assemble the next morning in the arena as if it were an honor to hunt the monsters, which they had caught all year, instead of an insult.
The crowd cheered, of course.
Ander was at my left. He had not looked at me since we arrived, which also meant he had not stopped tracking me in the peripheral way that was his version of watching out for someone.
I was watching the dais when Tay appeared at the queen’s shoulder, and suddenly I could barely breathe.
Tay looked well. He looked healthy and he stood with perfect posture, at ease in her company. My chest closed with all the anxiety he should have felt.
He angled slightly toward her when she spoke. When she gestured, his gaze followed. He was eerily focused on her.
The queen was speaking. I registered the words at a distance. Another Hunt, deeper into the labyrinth where a prize waited for the first clan to reach it. The crowd made its appropriate sounds.
Tay’s gaze moved across the gathered crowd with bland curiosity. He didn’t seem as if he were searching for me. He didn’t seem afraid.
His eyes passed over Clan Amber. Over Ander. Over me.
And then he stopped. His gaze returned to find my face.
For a moment, the smooth, comfortable attentiveness slipped. His lips parted as he stared at me.
Ander’s hand caught my arm, jerking me to a stop, and it was only then I realized I had moved toward Tay. “Hold,” he murmured.
The queen said something, low and private, and Tay’s gaze moved to her, quick and unhesitatingly. He smiled, and she rewarded him with a smile back, a hand on his arm as if they were close.
She had noticed his attention on me, and she had stolen him back again.
The world blurred as I blinked away the hot emotion in my eyes. Mortals would be looking at me. Gods forbid the mirrors caught me crying before the Hunt. The queen would enjoy showing that to all.
He was imprisoned in the self she had made for him. There was nothing, not a single thing, I could do about it until Fear agreed.
Perhaps Fear was right. I still wanted to slap him.
The announcement concluded. The crowd cheered, and Amber flowed around me as I moved with them.
I made it nearly to the entrance to the labyrinth before I had to stop. I could not bear it. Ander stopped with me, gesturing the rest of the clan on.
The stone wall was cold where I put my hand against it. I was not going to be sick. The corridor was quiet enough that I could hear my own breathing turn ragged. “I’m sorry. I’ll be fine in a moment.”
“You don’t need to go on the Hunt,” Ander said.
“I’ve got her.” It was Fear’s voice. “Go on, Ander. Clan Amber needs you.”
Fear was not in Bismyth colors; he wore nondescript clothes, though it wasn’t as if he could blend easily. A black tunic hugged his broad shoulders; his chest was covered in light leather armor, and he wore matching bracers, bristling with knives. I frowned at him, trying to make sense of it: he was dressed for the Hunt, but differently than usual.
I glanced behind him and saw none of Bismyth; each clan was supposed to go to a different entrance to race to whatever prize was beyond the monsters.
He had come for me.
I hated that his presence helped.
“You try my patience,” Ander told him, but it was true that Amber needed him. When he gave me a questioning look, I nodded. He didn’t look particularly thrilled that Fear was my comfort, but he went anyway.
Fear closed the distance without speaking first, and then his hands were on my face and his forehead dropped to mine. I had not realized I had been shaking. The warmth of him made my despair deeper, the way a wound only starts to hurt once we stop. I leaned in to him.
“We have to help him, Fear; we have to get him out of there?—”
