Camilla felt tears threatening. She was frustrated and scared and downright furious with the game master. His game was bad enough without subjecting them to mental and physical torture. She stopped pacing, using her surging emotions to center herself.
The game master knew they were close to finishing the game. Which meant she’d see him soon. Camilla focused on that, allowed it to fuel her. She and Envy had not come this far to be thwarted by the Unseelie King in the final moments of their game.
When she walked into that wretched court, not if, she would do so as a victor.
Starting with this cursed riddle.
Camilla repeated it out loud, determination running through her in waves. The game master thought himself clever, but she was too. She knew the answer. Knew it was simple. Fear had shut down her logic, but she would not allow it to overtake her now.
For some plants, mortals, and all animals, too,
this begins but has no end
and ends all that begins.
Some plants. Mortals. And all animals, too. Think, she commanded herself. What do they have in common? The careful phrasing. Some plants. All animals. And simply mortals.
They were all living things. But that didn’t connect them. Some plants. Camilla paced away, her thoughts focused inward. Some plants… all plants were alive. But some plants…
“All right,” she said. “If I were in House Sloth, plants would be broken down into categories. Flowering, fruits, trees, bushes… and annuals and perennials.”
Her pulse thrashed. That felt right. Some plants were annuals; they needed to be replanted each year. Some plants were perennials. They came back each year on their own.
Suddenly, she knew what the answer was.
Chills raced down Camilla’s body.
“Death.”
Some plants died. Mortals and all animals died too. Death ended all that began. And once it began, there was no undoing it. Death also had five letters. It fit.
It had to be the correct answer.
Still, as she knelt next to Envy, seeing the sickly pallor of his normally healthy, bronze skin, she hesitated. One more wrong answer and she didn’t want to consider the torture he’d experience. At her own hand.
She couldn’t waste any more time debating.
Camilla hissed through her teeth as she clasped the chain again, finding the link with the letters. She twisted them into place quickly this time, pausing for only a beat on the final letter.
DEATH
She hoped she wasn’t dooming Envy to his. The H clicked into place and an eternity passed in a second; then the glow intensified, and Camilla internally damned— The chains shattered in a flash of fire, freeing the prince.
Camilla sobbed and then gently pulled him onto her lap, stroking his head.
“Please. Please get up.”
She had read enough fairy tales as a young girl to know that the prince was supposed to wake the love of his life with a kiss. But Envy was a demon, and Camilla was no damsel in distress. She pressed her lips to his forehead.
He didn’t magically stir. But his skin was starting to regain some color now that the chains weren’t constantly attacking him.
Camilla rocked him gently for a few more seconds, still painfully aware of the clock Abyssus said was counting down their time to solve the final clue. They were so close. They were in the site. If they lost, her talent would be stolen forever.
She could leave Envy, find the next clue on her own…
Awareness suddenly prickled against her skin. She glanced down, startled to find Envy’s emerald gaze locked onto her.
“Did we lose?” he asked, his tone void of emotion.
“Not yet.”
“You could have left me.”
She could have. There was a question in his eyes. One she did not have an answer for.
Camilla carefully maneuvered him off her lap and stood, brushing down the front of her dress, then glanced around. “Abyssus said we have until sunset to solve the last clue. We’re almost out of time.”
FIFTY-EIGHT
ENVY TOOK QUICK stock of his injuries as he sat up. On the surface, he didn’t appear too bad. But looks could be deceiving. The worst of his aches and pains were still there.
He pushed himself up to his feet, head pounding from the strain.
Camilla, thankfully, had already turned her attention to the Pillars. The fear he’d seen in her, the tenderness, both were gone, replaced by a brutal determination. If he hadn’t seen her, hadn’t experienced that hellish torture, she’d have given no outward indication that they’d battled a dark force. He wanted to ask about Abyssus, if she was all right, but she clearly was.
She was a woman on a mission. And he was glad of her help.
Unable to move just yet, Envy watched Camilla take in the pillars, a look of awe and reverence on her face.
He understood her fascination. Even in a world full of magic and riches, they were truly something to behold.
The pillars stood twenty-two feet tall and were each carved from a solid piece of shadowstone, a gemstone found only in the Seven Circles that was like a smoky moonstone. Each massive column was adorned with images ranging from flora to fauna to astrological.
Many had speculated on what the symbols meant, but no one could be certain that their theory was correct. Only the oldest of the Fae knew what the Pillars had fully been capable of.
She was looking at them with appreciation, but he also saw the way she methodically scanned them, running her hands over each image, her mind hard at work to solve the mystery of why they’d been sent there and how it related to the game.
He looked them over from where he stood, slowly regaining his strength.
In the mortal world, there were a few ancient sites that were similar, but nothing compared to these pillars. Some believed supernatural beings had created the ones across the mortal world, but if they saw what had been made by the Fae, they’d understand the differences.
These columns glowed with an inner moonlight, the art casting shadows. And that was while they were buried below ground, far from the sun and moon, which legend claimed they’d been created to celebrate.
Envy had seen the Pillars once before: when Wrath had each of the seven ruling Princes of Hell come together to nullify the Fae magic, in a sense leashing the Pillars.
What they knew of the Twin Pillars was that they were an access point, like a mortal train station of sorts, where both the light and dark Fae could travel to different realms.
When the portal was open, they could go to the mortal world whenever they pleased, bypassing the Gates of Hell and any royal request they’d need to make.
That had been their ultimate downfall.
The Unseelie liked playing with mortals. Liked taking human pets. Changelings were also amusements. They left Fae children in human homes, watching them wreak havoc on the unsuspecting parents.
Both courts had been warned that such games were not to be played in the mortal world. The Seelie took their pleasures elsewhere, never as intrigued by humans as the Unseelie were.