Page 49
He flips me the bird, but it’s half-hearted. We’re not really mad at one another; it’s all the stress of our previous location bleeding out.
The group continues to stall through the garden, which in true Midnight Court style is less ‘pleasant stroll’ and more ‘walk of magical fuckery’. The hedges are twitching at the edges, and the colors shift every time you look away—a patch of thorns will be black, then silver, and then a neon shade that doesn’t exist on the other side of the Veil. Every turn is another opportunity for something to reach out and bite, but nothing does—not yet.
That doesn’t mean that I trust this place, and I guarantee the others don’t, either.
Tier is on point, making sure he leads us into safe spots, like always. There’s a new line of a white scar on his forearm, jagged as a lightning bolt. I don’t know when he got it because the cat stays silent and vigilant like one of those Easter Island heads, even through pain. He doesn’t limp, doesn’t slow down—nope, he just keeps his eyes scanning for threats, as if they could ever surprise him again.
Not a realistic expectation, but good bodyguards are like that; I should know.
The vampire brings up the rear with his hands in his coat pockets and his eyes fixed on the path ahead. He’s the only one who is moving like a damn ghost in this place. I hate how clean he looks after everything, like the world’s most dangerous libertine as his red eyes watch for enemies and traps. Vamps are always like this in my experience, and it makes them hated by everyone not inured to their immortal perfection.
The air in the maze is humid, but with an edge of petrichor, like the seconds before a thunderstorm. Above us, the moon is a perfect circle, so bright it stains the clouds purple. Shadows move, but not because of the wind; it’s because the light itself is unreliable. The set-up is vintage Fae shit, and that irks me as well—nothing is real with these fuckers.
Sassy is in the center again, and for once, she didn’t argue about it. Every so often, the mark on her hand flashes, and the path opens up in front of us, hedges parting just enough for passage. The garden recognizes her, and it makes my skin crawl worse than the shedding.
I don’t know what it wants from her and we can’t ask, so it’s unnerving.
After a while, the silence gets to be too much for the chatty prince. He waits for a curve in the path, and then doubles back, walking backwards so he can talk to us and keep his eyes on our mate.
“What’s the plan for the next phase, Captain, oh, Captain?” He means Fi, but he’s careful not to sound like he’s discounting the rest of us. It’s a signal that he’s growing as a person; he didn’t assume he was in charge, nor did he leave out the rest of us. “Do you think there’s a celebratory dinner? Do we get a trophy? Does Midnight Court just throw a parade of mirrors and call it a day?”
I snort, rolling my eyes as his sarcasm. “Bro.”
Sassy huffs, but she’s smiling a little at his humor. “I’m hoping for some kind of food or I’m going to eat an actual goddamn person after this shit. Knowing these assholes, however, they’ll throw us into a pit and make us fight for the right to leave. They won’t be pleased that we made it out; the usurpers hoped I’d die in there to protect their illegal bullshit.”
She’s definitely not wrong, which is why the prince asked, I think.
The leopard grunts, not looking back as he navigates the damn topiaries. “We’re being herded. The hedges only move when Knuckles walks—everything else is probably a dead end.”
Dezi nods, agreeing with the cat. “That’s because it’s not a maze, it’s another test. They want to see if we can fight our way into the castle. Or, perhaps, it’s a stall tactic to give the current royals time to get their stories and their allies straight.”
I make a show of casually brushing another scale from my sleeve. “We already passed the ultimate test, so I choose to believe this is just being shitty assholes who are packing like madmen before our girl comes to eat them.”
Revelin barks a laugh, his eyes dancing as he watches everyone imagine that. “You’d be surprised by how stupid some of the royals can be, snake man. Daybreak’s tests are mostly about magical power levels. They seldom have groups, which I’d bet is true here as well, and since we all made it out, it’s scaring the shit out of the ruling class. However, Faerie is all about appearances and who you know, so they won’t just give it up because we didn’t die.”
Fiadh shakes her head, looking pensive. “I’m not ready for that yet, anyway. Our stay here is about Rev’s tour and our quest for the feystag. We’re not settling in to take thrones.”
The prince winks playfully. “Yet.”
Tiernan’s voice is flat, but I hear the smile. “But someday, I bet. And then we have to figure out what that idiot is going to do about his destiny as well.”
Revelin mock-clutches his chest, looking as if he’s pained. “I’m wounded, Tier. As if I plan to take my father’s spot anytime soon. He's far too entrenched for me to think about it, and you know it.”
We round another curve, and the path gets smaller. The hedges lean in, crowding overhead until it’s more tunnel than walkway. The air gets colder as the scent shifts from flowers to something sharp—citrus and metal, maybe. That tells me I’m tasting something with the possibility of attack, and I hiss softly so they pay attention to me again.
Nodding, I flick the forked snake tongue out to check my suspicions, and the feline’s shoulders tighten as he keeps leading us. Sassy reaches for the nearest branch sticking out from the hedges and tugs a black rose from the thorns. She holds it up, twirling it between her fingers. “Do you think they bred these just for the aesthetic, or is there poison in every petal?”
The prince answers before anyone else can, his expression smug. “Both—if they’re the species I think, there’s a venom gland in the stem. Don’t touch the thorns unless you want to spend the next three hours paralyzed from the neck down.”
What?! They use that for decoration? Fucking psychos, I swear to shit.
Our mate tucks the rose behind her ear anyway, making everyone but Tier stare at her in disbelief. “It matches my hair and their shit doesn’t scare me anymore. If I’m from this land, and I should be queen, the flora and fauna don’t want to kill me. They want me to right the wrong because Faerie is all about the will of magic and the land. Or, that’s what Rev has told me, right?”
She’s right about it matching. The new streaks in her hair are an unnatural violet, a legacy from the last round of magic, I guess. They glow, faint but steady, like a warning light as she moves. When she stays upright, the punk prince quickly conceals his expression of concern to wink at our mate playfully.
“That’s right, Sassypants. If this is your true home and you are the heir, the lands of Midnight should heed your call.”
“Shut up. All of you.”
