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So we walk it together, leaving a trail of scales and blood and hope behind us.
Twenty-Five
FIADH
Idon’t notice the maze tightening up again until my elbow clips a thorn and I scrape myself. The path is closing in, little by little—if this were a horror movie, it’d be the part where the director stops pretending the walls aren’t hungry. The hedges aren’t just thicker; they’re meaner, claws of moonlit white jutting out at eye level with petals that look like they could muffle a scream with zero effort. The path’s width shrinks every twenty steps, and soon it’s just enough for one person to walk without bumping shoulders.
Do not like, zero out of ten… get me the fuck out of here, stat.
Khol doesn’t care; he’s taken Tier’s spot in front as he barrels through the garden with his shoulders knocking loose any twig that gets in his way. Shedding is a full-body event now: every time he ducks a branch, a flutter of scales falls off, glinting like sequins on a drag queen’s dance costume. He’s trying to ignore it, but when a strip the size of my pinky finger lands on my boot and spooks me, he gets redder than any basilisk should be able to.
“Didn’t know you were planning to out-glitter us Fae,” I say as I brush it off with a theatrical sigh. He grunts, but doesn’t toss me a comeback; he’s too busy scanning for whatever bullshit this section of the maze wants to pull.
Revelin’s behind me, but I can feel his pride at my classifying myself within his species. He’s got that look he gets before launching into a ten-minute TED Talk about this land that nobody asked for, so I brace for impact. His grin widens as he opens his mouth, but it shuts when he sees the others looking impatient. “I’ll tell you about things you need to know when we’re tucked in our room, Sassypants. If you’re going to claim this heritage, there are some finer points you need to know about.”
Goody, instead of sex, I’m going to get an educational lecture. Yay for me!
Dezi brings up the rear, looking thoughtful again. He’s probably plotting out exactly where and when the next attack will come, but the only thing he says is, “Keep moving, Khol. I’d prefer to get out of this with all my organs intact, even if I don’t need them. Standing still makes us an easier target.”
Tiernan’s quiet as they bicker and we move again. He’s taken a few hits—literal and magical—so his energy is set to ‘glower and support’. His scratch is healing weirdly, I notice, but he’s too stubborn to ask for help. Plus, our vamp daddy just said we have to move our asses and T is nothing if not a good order follower.
We round another corner and come face to face with another goddamn statue. This one’s a warrior with his sword raised, but the stone is crumbling at the edges, decay lines spider-webbing the arms and face. For half a second, I swear the face is Khol’s—same stubborn jaw, same I-dare-you glare—but when I blink it’s a total stranger, nose flattened and eyes milky with fungus.
“Damn,” says Revelin, “they must have been desperate to use a basilisk for inspiration. He looks like he lost a staring contest with a mirror.”
I snicker, but the sound’s muffled by the weird, dense petals all around. The air is saturated with the vibe of imminent magic. I run my fingers through the nearest hedge, and they come away sticky with moon-blue sap.
“Anyone else getting the feeling this place is a digestive tract?” I ask. “Like we’re a hair away from being watched by a fat gangster and his loud chicken on a smuggler’s barge or something?”
“No, that’s just you,” Khol says, but his voice is hard and his hands are in fists. “You like that space war series way too much for your own good, Sassy. I mean, why the hell are there teddy bears in the last movie?”
“It’s not the last movie, there are—”
My outraged rant is cut off by the hedges pressing in, their thorns glinting with wet, silvery stuff that could be poison. Revelin walks over, his hands clasped behind his back in an academic pose as he squints at them. He huffs as he looks, but every so often he flicks his fingers and the nearest flower withers into dust. That makes him nod and turn back to us seriously.
“They won’t kill us if we don’t eat them… I think,” he finally says. “However, is no one going to bring up that we’re heading for another power spike? These roots are starting to show, which is a classic sign of magic running on fumes. When that happens, there’s always a surge at the end.”
“Like a power grid overload?” I say. “That means we’re going to find the end of this bullshit soon. They can’t keep it going for some reason.”
“Exactly! It’s also a sign that this shit is being held up by weaker court members and the royals are conserving their energy and magic. Maybe to run, maybe to fight… but they’re not supporting the traps anymore,” Rev grins, showing all his pointy Fae teeth.
Khol gives the prince a deadpan look. “If you’re saying we have to battle a bunch of strong-ass royals instead of eating when we get back, I’m helping our girl eat them. We can question people later. Fuck that shit and fuck everyone making us do this. I’m over it.”
I laugh, and the sound bounces weirdly around us, getting swallowed up by the flowers. “So what’s the move when we hit the end, if that’s possible? Duck and cover?”
“Stay together, no matter what. We’ve figured out that we are most powerful when your magic is fighting with our skills as backup, witchling. Together, we will survive whatever awaits,” Dezi answers firmly.
My vampire has taken on the general role, and it’s hot, not that I’m going to tell him that. I’ve found that I don’t mind someone taking control in the bedroom every once in a while, but I don’t want any of them to expect me to just lie down and let them run the show all the time. Fiadh Morgenstern is her own woman, and she’s made it a lot farther than she realized without men saving her.
“Be ready for a fuckton of weird visions. Once the magic reaches critical, it’ll try to scramble your sense of self as a last ditch effort, I believe. Don’t let it get to you,” Rev adds as he wrinkles his nose. “And definitely do not believe any thought or feeling that says one of us is out to get any of the others. That’s an old Fae trick commonly used in battle—make them attack each other so you stay pristine. We find it satisfying as hell.”
Tiernan shifts his weight, sighing as he nods. “He’s right about that. Most Court drama in Daybreak happens because of manipulation and bullshit that turns people against one another. It’s as normal as punching a dude in a bar fight at home.”
Revelin’s eyes go distant for a second as he murmurs, “Daybreak may have a different flavor, but it has the same cruelty as Midnight. I’ve never been able to trust anyone but my siblings, my mother, and a small group of staff like Tier. So do not believe anything you see, hear, or feel about us if there’s magic present; it’s critical to keep remembering it.”
That thought hits harder than I expect it to, and I almost trip over a root as I stumble backwards. I do not know how well I’ll deal with being fed lies about these men who are so very important to me. It will be much more difficult to fight off than any of the other tests and I need to keep my mind clear so I can do it.
Be nice if I was at full strength, though.
