Twenty-Six

ELLIS

No. Absolutely not.

Fuck that.

I'd already served my time and took part in the fae's sick idea of games. I'd be damned if I went through it again.

Hayida snorted, reading my posture and body language. "Suit yourself," he grunted, pushing off from the wall's ledge and casually walking into the shadow of the building's corner, disappearing.

How the fuck did he do that?

I glanced down at the cuff on my wrist, not eager to burn my flesh down to the bone again.

It didn't matter because I wouldn't participate.

"Select a box!" The voice that shouted at us from overhead speakers wasn't Cassus's, but it put me back there, in the hellish prison box, dying from withdrawal and with no hope.

Stop it. You're not there any longer.

No, instead I was here, in the fae realm, my situation no better except I'd broken through my addiction to drink.

I tamped down the inappropriate urge to giggle at the absurdity of it all. The other prisoners practically ran to the squares, sizing up who else had already gone into a square and using some sort of strategy I couldn't comprehend to decide where to stand.

I stayed where I was.

"Move to a square."

A fae guard appeared next to me, his staff already glowing purple with magick. My feet moved forward toward a square before I could even help it. Pain was a faster motivator than anything else. Reluctantly, I took the last square left.

Strumo grinned at me from across the box.

Oh, now I realized what the frantic shuffle had been about. The other two in my box were a rough looking, older human man and a much younger one who pissed himself when Strumo flashed his fangs at him.

Great.

"Once served, the ball must bounce once in your square before you hit it. You must hit it into any square other than yours with an open or closed fist. You cannot hold the ball once it is in play. Do not hit the lines or hit the ball again in your square or outside of the squares. We will reorganize squares as needed. Begin."

That seemed … deceptively simple. A black ball appeared in the box of the younger human man, who approached it warily before screwing his eyes shut and grabbing it.

I tensed, but nothing happened.

The man opened his eyes and breathed out. Strumo gave him a nasty grin. The man pivoted to the other human, who scowled just as harshly. The man leveled his gaze on me, and bounced the ball with two hands in his square and into mine.

I didn't have time to strategize, think, or otherwise plan my actions. The instructions blared in my head repeatedly as the ball came at me.

Once served, the ball must bounce once in your square before you hit it. You must hit it in any square other than yours with an open or closed fist. You cannot hold the ball. Do not hit the lines or hit the ball again in your square or outside of the squares.

It bounced once in my square, just missing the white line by a hair's breadth. Using the same method he did, I used both hands to gently bat it at the older man's square.

The man gave me a look, but matched my energy and kept the ball bouncing sedately as he sent it back to the first man. As the trio of us kept up our game, Strumo's grin turned ugly as he realized our survival plan.

"You're cheating!" he called out.

I ignored him and bounced the ball again to the older man. A fae guard appeared quickly next to the outside of Strumo's square, a scowl on his face.

"Point of order," the guard called out.

The ball froze in midair between the older man and the younger man, bringing our game to a standstill. All across the yard the same happened and heads turned in our direction.

"The rules do not say every square must be used," the guard continued, loud enough to be heard by everyone. "The players may bounce in any order deemed necessary. False accusations will be treated as rule breaking. This is your only warning. Proceed."

The fae guard moved so fast it appeared he was gone in the blink of an eye. The ball that hung in the air spun back into motion, catching the young man off guard as it bounced in front of him. He caught it in reflex, then glanced down in horror at it when he realized what he'd done.

My lips parted to yell at him to hurry and throw it, but it was too late. He'd already broken the rules.

You cannot hold the ball once it is in play.

The ball exploded with a BANG, leaving a red smear on the ground where the man had once been. Bits of blood and flesh splattered on me, clinging to my shoes and breeches. Horrified, I shook it away, all the while Strumo laughed his ass off. The older man's lips parted in shock for a moment before his jaw tightened with resolve.

Across the way were a few answering booms. I assumed some had turned to look at our explosion and accidentally caused their own deaths, or perhaps the sudden resuming of the game caught them off guard as well.

Fuck this. Fuck this so hard.

I held my breath, waiting to see who would be granted the ball this time. If it was Strumo, I was fucked.

Tension left my body as it re-materialized in the old man's square. Good. We were safe; we could continue our game of keep away until the sun went down if needed.

He picked up the ball, preparing to toss it my way.

"If you don't give me the ball now, you'll die anyway after this," Strumo promised, every inch of him deadly aggression.

The man's eyes went wide as they flicked between me and Strumo.

"Toss it to me, and I will ensure you survive," I pleaded.

He had only had seconds to decide.

"Please—" I implored him, but he was frozen with indecision.

The older man sent me an apologetic glance, pivoting his body away from mine. Shakily, he tossed the ball toward Strumo's square. The ball bounced just on the outside edge of the white line.

The man went white with panic. "N—"

BOOM.

There was a new red smear on my left, but I didn't have time to process that because Strumo was already moving toward the ball in his square like I knew he would be. He grabbed the ball and cocked his arm back, fangs bared in a feral snarl of giddiness as he prepared to throw it at my face as hard as he could.

There was no way I'd be able to catch it. He was twice my size. It would bounce off the ground too fast and too hard, and—

"Move to a square."

The ball disappeared from Strumo's hand mid-throw, leaving him grasping at nothing. The look of rage and confusion on his face would have been satisfying to witness, but I was already gone, halfway across the pitch and diving into the first square I saw with three others who weren't Strumo.

The field had shrunk quite a bit—there were now ten empty squares.

I studied my new teammates: three fae, all of whom frowned at me when I entered their square. Those frowns quickly turned into feral grins.

"Begin," the voice commanded.

I don't know if the fae had gods or believed in any deities, but I thanked all of them as the black ball materialized in my square. The fae's grins faded, turning into sneers.

Sweat snaked down my back as I held my own death in my hands. Thoughts raced through my head in a vicious whirl, the rules of the game playing on repeat over and over. I couldn't play the game properly against the three fae in my box—not the way it was intended. They'd obliterate me in seconds.

Unless.

Running the rules of the game through my head, I took a calculated risk. The fae prided themselves on their ‘points of order' and the rules of their games. As long as I followed those, it was fine. Well, as fine as it could be when your life was literally on the line.

Staring the other fae down, I didn't bounce the ball. I didn't do anything at all with it. I simply clutched onto it as though it were my only lifeline. Which, in a way, it was.

Terrified I would blow up any second, each moment ticked by in agonizing fashion. Yet each one that passed where I didn't blow up, my confidence increased. I was right. I knew it.

The fae female on my left with bright blue hair fidgeted with her hands, agitated.

"Point of order!" she shrieked, not breaking her hateful glare at me.

A fae guard appeared by my side so suddenly I blanched, almost dropping the ball. Wouldn't that have been ironic?

"A point of order has been called. Gameplay is paused."

All around us, balls froze again.

The fae guard turned his frosty stare to the blue-haired fae. "What is your point of order?"

She pointed an accusing finger at me. "You can't hold the ball! That's against the rules! You must use a closed or open fist to keep it moving!"

The fae guard frowned heavily, turning toward me, heavily confused why I wasn't yet a red smear on the ground.

I tensed, making sure my grip on the ball was firm. "Our round has not started," I asserted. "The rules did not specify when the round must start. Before it starts, I can hold it as long as I want."

The guard's head tilted to the side, considering. "That you may."

His gaze snapped to the blue-haired fae. "Accusations of false cheating will not be tolerated. This is your only warning. Game play resumes."

The blue-haired fae's mouth opened in shock. If I thought she'd stared at me hatefully before, it was nothing compared to the pure rage directed at me now. I tried to ignore all of the BOOMS as balls were suddenly in play again.

"You little half-breed worm! That was my one warning for my entire sentence here!"

I took a step back from her fury. Never did I think I'd long for the safety of the iron bars of my cell, but as the mood in my square turned ugly, I doubted I would see it again.

I just had to keep clutching onto the ball.

"Why are you upset?" I asked instead. "If I hold the ball, none of us die."

A fae male with who looked human except for his pointed ears and brown hair snorted.

"He has a point. I won't complain about taking a sure win. The Hunt just happened. No sense in killing everyone now, eh?"

He turned his attention toward his fingernails, picking at the dirt underneath. Maliciously, I wondered what would have happened if I smashed the ball his way while he wasn't paying attention.

"Don't be an idiot."

I jumped and the ball slipped from my hands, but I caught it before it hit the ground.

Hayida waved at me coyly from just beyond my square. "See? I knew you weren't stupid. Why go through all the trouble to prove you're clever only to drop the ball now?"

He spoke in riddles and double meanings.

I hated it and hated him. I hated how flippant he was. I hated how his magick seemed unaffected by the cuffs, and I hated how I suspected he kept himself here. But most of all, I hated how Eve trusted him.

It would be so satisfying when I turned him into Fennis.

Hayida gave me a nod of approval. "Now, if you used that look on them, we might get somewhere." He paused then asked, "Who are you angry with?"

My head snapped up, but Hayida wasn't talking to me. His question was directed at the other fae in my block, who all refused to look Hayida in the eye.

"Fine," Hayida sniffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "Compete in your silly games, pit yourselves against each other and lose sight of the true enemy. It's worked for hundreds of years, why stop now?"

I turned to ask Hayida what he meant, but the older fae was already halfway across the yard. Why was he able to come and go as he pleased as a prisoner? Why didn't he have to participate in this facade of exercises?

My teammates' expressions had faded from murderous to grumpy, but I'd take it. We stayed like that for what felt like hours, but was probably only twenty minutes or so until the guard's voice echoed over the yard.

"Game play is concluded. You may have an hour of leisure time before chores."

The squares with their white lines dissolved around us, including the ball in my hands. It turned to sand and slipped through my fingers, only to blow away in the wind.

The blue-haired female shouldered past me hard, almost knocking me off my feet. "Hayida has taken a liking to you. Don't think that will last long. It never does."

She and the rest of my ‘team' pushed past me, regrouping with the others in their small posse. Glancing around, it became obvious that everyone here had a group of some sort, whether it was fae, human, or otherwise.

Everyone had someone except for Eve and me. And Hayida.

I was no closer to getting out of here with Eve than I'd been before. Hayida was a troublemaker who was far too powerful, but he was already in prison. What would I gain from turning him into Fennis? Nothing. I needed more people and more names. I needed to get closer to Hayida and get him to spill information that I could use to bargain for our release.

I collapsed onto a picnic table in the middle of the yard.

"Little halfling. One foot in each world, plagued with visions of the beyond, yet still unable to see what's in front of him."

This time I didn't so much as flinch. "Go away, Hayida, if you're going to be cryptic."

His mocking grin faded. "You want direct? Very well. Fennis isn't your ticket out. He never was and never will be. Idiot that he is." Hayida's glance raked up and down my form. "Maybe you are truly related to him. I would know, after all."

My suspicions turned into full blown paranoia. "What is Fennis to you?"

Hayida's trickster facade faded into a harsh, cold mask. I resisted the urge to step away at the hard fury coming off him.

"Fennis is my greatest regret. I should have killed him in his cradle and saved all of us the bother."

I blinked at the startling revelation, and pushed past it. I'd marvel over what he'd just revealed later, when I was alone in my cell. Right now, I needed answers.

"You're powerful," I complained. "Why don't you do something? Is your magick too weak from siphoning the guards' staffs?" I asked, desperate to get as much information as I could while he was in the mood to be serious.

Eyes colder than the fae world's morning air met mine. "I stay in the hopes of helping correct what I unknowingly created. That when the time comes, I will serve a greater purpose that benefits all."

His stare was unnerving, and voices exploded in my head.

"Mad queen—"

"Mad king—"

"Fire and damnation—"

"It will all burn."

Hayida laughed as I fell to my knees, hands over my ears as I struggled to stay rooted in reality with Eve's phantom voice ringing in my ears. Rage shot through my veins like liquid fire, the only emotion strong enough to blast through the voices.

"Fuck you!" I roared at him.

My cuffs flared as they squelched down my rising magick, the sensation like someone throwing a blanket over me as I struggled to stand.

Hayida clucked his tongue. "This is why things don't change. Don't be just like Fennis. How droll."

I pushed past the pain and grabbed his wrist, forcing the magick through my hands and into his body. Instead of flinching or crying out in pain, he tightened his grip on me, pulling me closer and bringing us nose to nose.

"Foolish boy. When I was king, half-breeds were killed to celebrate holidays."

My heart beat erratically against my chest as my wrists burned.

"You were defeated, just as we'll defeat Fennis," I shot back.

Hayida grinned crazily. "Oh, I certainly hope so. There will be so many dead humans."

He gathered my magick and pushed it back at me in a whirl of colors and pain.

I fell.