Page 42 of A Match Made in Hell

The end comes sooner than I’d like.

I’d eaten breakfast alone – Harper and the others not in their usual spot, probably too scared to leave their rooms after Henry’s run-in with Aric yesterday – to find Sath waiting outside the dining cave.

Vines hang at his back like rotten ropes.

Humans side-eye him as they scuttle past but he ignores them all, gaze locked on me.

‘It’s time,’ he says, voice clipped. ‘We’ll do the final task today.’

‘Oh.’ I wait for a rush of adrenaline that doesn’t come. My stomach flips, and I regret eating that second dragon fruit. Unease makes my skin prickle. I’m plummeting towards a finish line that’s sprung up out of nowhere and I don’t know how to stop.

‘Are you coming?’ Sath’s hand is outstretched, waiting for me to take it.

‘I’m scared,’ I whisper. What will I do when I go back?

Sath narrows his eyes. ‘Have you changed your mind?’

‘No,’ I say quickly. I haven’t removed the bracelet since he gave it to me, and I spin it round my wrist, reminding me why I have to finish this.

Its weight feels heavier than ever. The last time I changed my mind about something, my mother climbed into a car and got herself killed.

If I told him I was having doubts, who knows what awful chain of events I’d set off this time.

She could have accepted your decision . Sath’s words are a more pleasant memory than the ones that usually loiter in my mind, but they’re not enough to stop me taking his hand.

Maybe for the last time. I grip it tighter than ever, and I think he’s gripping me too, like if we both hold on hard enough this won’t be happening, I won’t be leaving, I won’t be forced to work out what to do with the rest of my life.

We portal to a floor of Asphodel I don’t recognise, landing outside a large set of metal doors not dissimilar to the gates. The only difference is that these are lacking the carvings of monstrous faces, and there’s no blazing heat or steam being emitted from the iron.

‘Where are we?’

‘The Pits.’ Sath’s thumb brushes my knuckles. ‘The demons host regular fighting tournaments here. Helps to suppress some of their urges. This is where the task of wrath will take place.’

My gut twists into knots. ‘What am I doing here? Am I expected to fight?’

Beating Aric that one time was blind luck more than anything. Or, if this is a test, maybe I’m supposed to not fight, and just stand there while one of them uses me as a punching bag.

The knots loop tighter. What if this has always been the plan? My final punishment for wanting to leave is to push me into a pit and watch me get pummelled, until I’m nothing but bloody parts that float into the Void.

‘No fighting,’ Sath says, turning me to face him. His face is grave, worry filling in his eyes, which doesn’t do much for my nerves.

He thinks I’m going to fail.

‘Don’t react.’ He grips my upper arms. ‘To anything. No matter what he says, or does, you have to let it happen –’

‘Wait. He? Who’s he?’ The answer hits me straight away. It’ll be Aric. Of course it’ll be Aric. My voice shakes when I ask, ‘What’s he going to do?’

Sath swallows, leaning down to rest his forehead against mine. I breathe in his familiar smell and imagine we’re alone in a misty forest somewhere. My eyes are welling up again.

Whatever happens in that arena, I’m going to get hurt, one way or another.

‘What’ll happen if I pass?’ I whisper. ‘Will I go back straight away, or would we have some time to –’ To what, Willow?

We’re never going to be together. But he’s holding me now, arms snaking around me, drawing me into his chest. He’s wearing another jumper, and I was right, he is very snugglable in one.

I clutch at him like I’ve already gone over the cliff and he’s the last bit of rock I can grab on to to survive. Something brushes my forehead, so quick and light I might have imagined it.

‘What if I can’t pass?’ I say, almost to myself. ‘If Aric attacks me, how am I supposed to –’

‘He won’t attack you,’ Sath says. ‘Not unless you attack him first.’

This is not encouraging. I’ve already proven I don’t have much self-control when it comes to that. And didn’t he deserve it?

No. No, I mustn’t think that.

Even if it’s true.

Fuck. Sath’s shoulder is wet with my tears, and I pull a face when I lean back to look at him, patting the damp like that’s going to help in some way. ‘Sorry.’

‘It’s fine.’ Sath gives me one final squeeze before releasing me. ‘You should go.’

‘But –’ He hasn’t answered my question. If I pass, is this goodbye? Is this it ? Thoughts flurry around my brain like a snow globe that’s been shaken too hard, and I can’t catch my breath; Sath is reaching for the handle, and all I can think is too soon, too soon .

The doors open with a whine.

Inside, everything is black. Every part of me is churning and panicking, but my legs move as though on autopilot. As I get closer to the entrance, I catch a whiff of stale air and sweat, tinged with copper.

Once I’m over the threshold, I realise Sath hasn’t moved. ‘You’re not coming?’ I ask. ‘Don’t you need to tempt me?’

Sath falters. ‘I think you’ll be tempted enough.’

His faith in me is astounding. I wish I could be angry, but a) I’m practising not being wrathful and b) he’s probably right.

As I go deeper into the Pits, the door slams shut behind me, plunging me into darkness.

With a loud clack, floodlights switch on, one by one, each sending my nerves jolting.

They illuminate an arena dug into the ground, a set of steep stairs leading to the rocky floor that’s streaked with sand, dirt and dark red stains.

Aric stands in the middle. And he’s not alone.

His hands are wrapped around Harper’s throat, his tail curled around her leg.

I freeze. Did Sath know he had her? He wouldn’t.

Surely, he wouldn’t. He must know I can’t let this happen, can’t stand by and do nothing as Aric chokes her.

This is Harper . Harper who took me under her wing, who introduced me to the fun side of Asphodel, who senses when I’m upset and cares enough to want to fix it.

I’ve always compared her smile to the sun, but now her face is eclipsed with blue, her fingers scratching and scrabbling to rip Aric’s hand away from her throat.

What do I do? What do I do what do I do what do I do?

‘Willow White, come to play,’ Aric says. ‘The king was right. It was worth waiting to kill you, if only to see the look on your face now. So sad. So confused. So angry.’

All the air leaves my lungs. What does he mean, the king was right ? Right about what?

It was worth waiting to kill you.

I take a step back.

Aric grins as he watches whatever emotion is splayed across my face. The king was right . My pulse thunders in my ears.

Then it hits me. Sath’s leverage.

He promised Aric this, to stop him punishing me after the cue incident.

Maybe he could’ve set fire to him all along.

Instead, he let him live, let him carry on antagonising me and my friends, all to get us to this moment.

My fists clench. Maybe that whole fight in the games room was staged to create an enemy for me.

I swallow. If Sath lied about that, what else has he lied about?

‘Poor Willow,’ Aric goes on. ‘Killed her mother. Alienated everyone she knew. Even if you win this task, you don’t get a happy ending.’

I close my eyes. Perhaps they only want me to think Harper is in danger. That would make more sense, would be more in line with my Sath. This is a trick, and I need to be calm. Serene. Picture fluffy clouds and kittens and become the living embodiment of that Sound of Music song. It’s difficult.

If I’m wrong, Harper will end up in the Void.

I remember the way it felt watching Sasha fall off the cliff. The panic. The fear. The desperation to know she was okay. And Harper wouldn’t get lucky the way Sasha did, she’d just be gone.

I can’t let it happen. I can’t let another person get hurt because of me.

My bracelet is shrinking, gripping my wrist tighter, a reminder of what’ll happen if I fail this task. Who I’ll disappoint. I can’t stand it. It’s too heavy, too tight, making it hard to think through the pain.

‘Don’t you want to play?’ Aric says. ‘Why won’t you look? Should I cut her open, would you look then? Shall I show you her pretty insides?’

God, I hate him. I force my eyes open and descend the stairs, scanning for something I can use as a weapon. Just in case. Harper whimpers, which only fuels my search, anger simmering in my veins like someone’s turned up the heat on a gas stove.

‘Let her go, Aric. It’s me you hate.’ The floor is empty. There’s nothing on the rocky walls encircling the pit. Aric has donned a loincloth for the occasion, but I don’t think he’s got a knife hiding up there.

There has to be something here I can use to get him off her.

A flash of silver catches my eye. Lying in the dirt is a dagger I swear wasn’t there before. I rush towards it, grabbing it like it’s my salvation. It’s a good, solid weight in my hand.

Aric smiles.

I smile back.

He drops Harper to the floor, where she gasps before passing out. I don’t glance her way. I can’t. Saving her shouldn’t be my priority, but it’s all I can think about.

All I ever wanted was to be proud of you.

My palm clenches and unclenches around the knife.

Sometimes bad things just happen.

Letting Aric hurt Harper would be bad. Breaking my promise to Mum would be bad.

Indecision takes root.

‘Should I kill you now,’ Aric muses, ‘or let you watch what I do to her? Maybe I’ll pin you up and let you see the gates get unleashed.’

‘Those gates are not opening.’

‘Oh, but they will.’ Aric’s tail scratches a deep cut down Harper’s leg. ‘There are things in motion you couldn’t begin to understand. The gates open tonight.’

No.