Prologue

Fable

" D o you think that dark elf liked my tattoos?" Jinx asks with a wiggle of her eyebrows. "I stuck my number in his armor. Wanna bet he calls tomorrow?"

I laugh and shake my head, my own leather armor shifting with my weight. "That dark elf was enamored with you. Especially with your knight armor. He was ready to bow down and let you put your sword to his throat," I tease.

The renaissance festival this year is as epic as always. This year, Jinx had gone all out and made metal-looking armor out of foam and hot glue. It looks authentic as fuck despite it being made out of foam. She's wearing real chainmail though that I'd watched her handmake for almost six months. Any princess would swoon to see my best friend swooping in to rescue her from the tower. Any man, be they fae or orc, would kneel at her feet. But Jinx has always had that effect on people. I used to wonder what she saw in me, why she chose me as her best friend, but I've long since stopped questioning it. We both just. . . work. I don't know how to explain it, but we've been best friends now for fifteen years, practically sisters. Never once has Jinx looked at me as anything other than the most important person in her life. It's just us against the world.

"Oh, please," Jinx says, grinning. "I saw how that Viking was looking at you. I bet if you'd have approached him, he'd have slayed your dragon, if you know what I mean."

The snort that comes out of my nose is as unladylike as they come. "That Viking barely looked at me."

"He was looking when he thought you weren't," she points out, grinning. "That man was ready to risk it all for a taste of that sweet fairy pus?—"

"Jinx!" I laugh, clamping my hand over her mouth. "Stop. We're in public."

"What? Like these people haven't heard the word pussy before?" she scoffs. Immediately, she turns to the crowd waiting for ride shares just like we are. "Pussy! Pussy! Pussy!" she sings. Everyone cheers around us, all equally as tipsy as we are. "See! They like it!"

I roll my eyes. "Whatever. He wasn't interested. He didn't even give me his number."

"Psh!" Jinx shakes her head. "Sometimes, you gotta approach these men. I mean look at you! You're fucking gorgeous, Fable, especially as a fairy warrior princess. It's intimidating."

I flush under her compliment and look down at my outfit. Unlike Jinx, my armor is made of top-grain leather, each piece hand crafted by me over the course of the last month. I'd taken a long time to decide what I wanted to be, and I'd worked long hours to make the armor pieces on top of my flowy dress. The wings at my back are fashioned from wire and cellophane, each piece meticulously placed. I'd wanted to do stained glass wings, but I didn't have enough time to learn the process before the ren faire. My ears have the perfect prosthetics on, making me look fae. The crown on my head is tooled from wire and beads. At the end of it all, I look pretty damn awesome. But I still don't think I could have pulled the Viking. His armor looked like he'd literally forged it.

"You'll have to help me get these wings off before the car gets here," I remind her. "I can't reach the straps."

"I know," she says, looking around with a groan. "How much longer is this guy going to be? I thought it said he was right around the corner?"

I pull my phone from my little leather hip belt. "It says he's literally right around the corner."

"Good," Jinx grunts. "My feet are killing me in these boots."

"I told you not to wear those ones," I say, shaking my head.

"They look the best with my armor," she argues. "We agreed on this."

"But you knew we'd be here all day," I point out. "And we bought way too much stuff. You knew we'd be carrying it all."

Which is also true. We often come to the ren faire every year saying we're not going to buy anything. And then we get here and there are vendors selling handmade leather journals with handmade paper, awesome hats, quality collectible swords, and all manner of cool things. My own bag is overflowing with cosplay items and jewelry I couldn't say no to. Jinx hadn't been able to resist one of the forged kitchen knives and journals. We'd both ended up buying a cloak and a corset. Apparently, neither one of us has any will power, especially once we start drinking.

"Oh! I think that's him. Red Kia Sorento," I announce, pointing to the car pulling around the circle. Everyone else around us perks up, but when they see it doesn't match their car, they go back to their conversations.

"Fable Everhart?" an older man asks from his window as he pulls up and we step forward.

"That's me!" I say, smiling. "Thank you, Steve. We appreciate the speedy ride."

He steps out of the car and pops open the back before coming over to help us with our bags. "Of course, ladies. Let's get you two all settled in the car."

"Oh! Jinx. Wings, please?" I ask.

Jinx immediately reaches for my back and unties the fastenings before lifting off the intricate wings. The driver, Steve, watches.

"Wow, you guys go all out for this kind of thing, huh?" he asks as he carefully puts the wings in the back and closes the hatch.

"That's the best way to come to the ren faire," I reply, helping Jinx into the car with her armor pieces. She slides over behind the driver's seat. I gather my own skirts in my hands and follow her into the back seat, sitting behind the passenger seat. "You get the full experience when you feel like you're part of the atmosphere," I finish when Steve climbs into the driver seat.

"I've never been to the renaissance festival," he admits as he taps some buttons on his maps and puts the car into gear. "Always assumed it was just a bunch of nerds."

"It's more than that," Jinx declares. "I mean, we may be nerds and geeks, but it's more about just having a good time. Everyone is welcome no matter who they are. The best thing is watching the kids excited to see a real knight or being happy to get a wooden play sword. It's about the little things, man."

Steve nods. "It sounds like I've been missing out then, huh?"

"Definitely," I nod. "It's still going on for another few weeks. You should go."

"I have two kids that would probably enjoy it," he says. "I'll look into tickets for next weekend since you two recommend it so much."

"Make sure to try the turkey legs," Jinx adds. "Makes you feel like a Viking."

Steve straightens. "I've always fancied myself a Viking. You know, apparently, I have Scandinavian in my bloodline. Did one of those test kits. Also found out I have a half-sister out there. That threw the family into chaos, let me tell you."

"I bet," Jinx laughs. "Fable and I are sisters. Not by blood, but we picked each other."

"I like that," Steve says, smiling in the rearview mirror. The light in front of us turns red and he eases the Kia to a stop at the front of the line. The traffic can be a nightmare around this time, especially with everyone leaving the ren faire. Even if we hadn't been drinking, I wouldn't have wanted to drive it. People get a little crazy leaving the faire.

"Too bad we didn't see any cowboys," Jinx murmurs as Steve continues talking about the family drama that erupted after finding out his dad had an affair.

I laugh. "I think we were in the wrong place for cowboys," I tell her. "We gotta go south probably. Or to a ranch."

Jinx's eyes twinkle. "Still, you've been on a cowboy kick for a while. Remember that night we got drunk and ended up watching the Western channel for hours? Shew, I'd kill for a cowboy. There's something about a man in a hat and tight jeans that just does it for me."

"Same," I grin. "I'd love a little yee in this haw."

We both laugh at my joke as if it's the funniest thing I've ever said. Alcohol sure does have a way of making everything funnier.

"This light is taking forever," Steve grunts from the front seat. "I swear they never time these things right."

Jinx glances at Steve before looking back at me. "Maybe if you behave, I'll have a surprise for you for your birthday next year."

"Dude, that's like eight months away. You don't have to get me anything." I tilt my head. "Is it a stripper dressed like a cowboy? Because you know what? I might be into that."

She snorts. "My best friend deserves more than a stripper wearing a foam cowboy hat."

"Finally," Steve grunts as the light turns green.

He steps on the gas hard and we shoot into the intersection. The sound of the Kia grows louder around us as it moves. Because I'm looking to my left, over at Jinx, I see it before anyone else seems to. Time slows. Everything goes silent. Whatever Jinx had been saying goes fuzzy in my brain and I don't hear her. All I see are the headlights suddenly shining inside the Kia.

"Watch out!" I scream, but I'm not fast enough, and there's nowhere to go. We're already in the intersection and the Kia only has so much power.

Steve lets out a guttural scream just before the large truck T-bones us on the driver's side. Jinx, she doesn't make a sound. She doesn't even turn to look. Instead, her eyes focus on mine, her hand reaching across the seats and squeezing three times.

Our little trick. Our way of saying, "I love you," without saying it out loud.

And then everything shatters.

The impact is so hard, my ears start ringing immediately as Jinx is thrown toward me. We roll, the little Kia taking so much of the force, it sends us turning end over end down the road. We must hit other cars because we flip and twist, the movements so chaotic, I can't follow them. I close my eyes when glass shatters around us, against the feeling of weightlessness that brutally jerks me back and forth against my seat belt. I can hear the sound of screaming, but I don't know who it is.

Not until I realize it's my own mouth open. That it's me screaming.

Jinx's hand jerks from mine, and suddenly, the space I'm in gets much smaller. The front passenger seat slams backward, pinning my legs. Followed right behind that is a sudden intense pain that is so bright, my stomach roils, and then it's gone, my body kicking the pain away when it becomes too much.

The car slows and comes to a stop upside down so that my arms dangle over me. I blink my eyes open, my chest tight from the pain of the seatbelt cutting into me. Everything hurts. Blood drips down my leather armor, but I don't know where it's coming from. I'm too dazed to look. Smoke billows around us, making everything hazy. People are shouting outside but I can't make out their words. In the front seat, Steve is hanging like I am, but he looks wrong. The angle is wrong. He's not moving and blood gushes from a wound on his neck.

"Jinx," I try to say, but my voice is strangled, pained. I can hardly speak with the dust and smoke filling everything.

I try to turn my head, but it hurts. Still, when I don't hear any other movement, I force myself to turn through the pain, to look, to find my best friend. I grunt at the feeling of my neck pulling tight, until I'm looking to my right, to the other back seat.

Jinx hangs there, her arms touching the ceiling, blood splattered everywhere.

"Jinx," I try again. "Jinx, wake up."

My eyes land on the large piece of sharp metal sticking out of her stomach, on the blood oozing around it. It pins her to the seat, thick and brutal looking. Her eyes are open and unseeing. She's wearing chainmail, but it hangs around her now, heavy and split around the metal impaling her.

"Jinx," I croak, my throat raw even as I begin to scream. "Jinx! Jinx! Jinx!"

"We're going to get you out! Just hold on!" someone shouts to my left as they appear kneeling on the ground. "Just hold on."

"Jinx!" I scream until my voice gives out.

I'm still screaming when they cut me out of the metal. I'm still screaming when they load me into the ambulance.

I'm still screaming until the pain catches up with me and the darkness claims me.

I'm pretty sure I still scream even then, the sound echoing inside my mind even as I'm unaware of what's happening.

Jinx. Jinx! Jinx!

Wake up. . .