Page 21

With maddening vigor, the players immediately began to collide with each other.

Thistle, having the wherewithal to sense the other animals’ excitement, had moved us to the edge, to watch the sea of fighting men.

The familiar sounds of clash- ing metal made me alert, bringing my mind back to where I needed to be.

I opened the small leather chest on the saddle and reconfirmed that the key was there.

It sat in between a small slit in the black velvet case, the intricate design of the red key standing out like a spot of blood on a white shirt.

The fact that I would have to ram that key into a man’s forehead made me want to shake someone.

The realization that I was going to have to cram it into Anna’s forehead was too much to even think about.

I sent a silent prayer to the Fates that Cal and Mendax wouldn’t try to contact me during this horrible event.

Thankfully, I wasn’t given much time to think about it, as five armored players were running straight at us.

I brandished my sword with one hand and gripped the reins with the other.

“You ready, girl? Here we go.” Thistle widened her stance and lowered her head and I knew then and there that I had made the right choice in entrusting her with this task.

“Once they are close enough that my sword will reach them?—”

Two men slammed into us from the back, stopping my words and causing me to nick the side of Thistle’s leg as my sword fell from my hand and was almost lost to the ground.

It was only a minor cut, but it made me furious.

A thousand different ways to rip their heads from their bodies flashed through my head, and for a split second, I panicked, thinking Mendax had returned, before I realized I still remained the proud owner of the Tartarus itch, as I apparently hadn’t done anything I wouldn’t normally do. Fuck if I wasn’t about to.

The cut must have triggered Thistle’s anger as well, because she pushed her squat frame back up to the horse nearest her and bucked, kicking out his front leg and causing him to drop his rider lower.

While letting out a shout that vibrated through my entire body, I rammed the steel in my hands into a fold of armor on their chest, pulling them down to my height.

Even without my powers, I was faster than the average fae in a fight, having trained as I had.

The red key was in my hand before the other player thought to use the weapon in their grip.

With force, I slammed the key into the hole of his helmet but was stopped when the key wouldn’t push past the opening.

The faint scent of pine needles wafted up with every hit—it had been spelled not to let anything through.

That’s why the stable boy had instructed me to remove their helmets.

I didn’t have enough time to pull his helmet off before two others were on us from the opposite side.

It was a hurricane of thrusting swords. I was able to rip the helmet off one and cut his throat before throwing him into a rider who was subsequently attacking him, knocking both men to the ground.

With a whoosh of wind, both players’ bodies faded slightly before they turned to fragments that blew away in the eerie, unnatural breeze.

I didn’t bother to mess with my key, because truthfully, I didn’t want their memento and I still had plenty—I just didn’t want them to have mine.

Thistle moved fast, leaving the others to fight as we moved to the far edge of the field to get a better look at what was happening. It was a massacre.

Black and gold blood painted the field. There was green too, and I didn’t even know what fae produced green blood, but it was there, spattered on the dirt.

By now, more than half of the players had been annihilated and only fifteen or so remained.

With each round of deaths, the players would be harder and harder to kill, as they would be the better fighters.

I fought the urge to call for Anna—I don’t know why .

Something unsettling in my gut began to stir wondering if she was already gone. No, if she was as good as Walter said, she would still be here. But where?

All the horses looked exactly the same as hers this low to the ground.

The helmets hid their faces, so that I couldn’t see anyone enough to tell.

Just then, my eyes caught on a figure in the distance.

Obviously incredibly skilled, the player and their horse wove through the field like they were one entity.

Their moves were graceful and thought out, not desperate and filled with fear.

They had done this many times before and it showed.

“Anna.”

Disappointment hit my stomach like a brick.

She was flawless on her horse, unlike these other men who obviously hadn’t given their horses a second thought other than as a piece of equipment in the game.

She cut through the crowd, deftly pulling them off their horses before stabbing the red key in their heads as though she were a centaur, her and her horse one.

What was even more incredible was that all of her movement was light and graceful, like a choreographed dance that used balance and rhythm in place of muscle and force.

Goose bumps flooded my skin as I watched how easily and effortlessly she took their lives and once again I was struck by my stupidity in assuming that Cal’s sister would be gentle and sweet. It only affirmed how evil she had become raised in this horrible place of darkness.

“She has to be stopped. For good, before it’s too late.”

I guided Thistle back into the massacre and headed straight for Anna.

Before I made it to her, something came over me and I jerked Thistle away.

“We’ll clear out the others first,” I mumbled to the mare.

Her brown eyes glanced accusingly at me.

I just needed a few minutes to figure out a plan.

She was a good fighter and an even better rider, only a fool would go in headstrong without a plan.

“Maybe they will take care of her so we don’t need to,” I repeated.

Suddenly we were in the middle of another attack. A stray hoof hit me in the back, knocking the wind from my chest .

It was a flurry of arms and swords, clashing and clanging in every direction.

One player almost succeeded in knocking me off Thistle, but the fiery unicorn wouldn’t have it.

The little mare reared up, shifting me up and away from my nearest assailant.

I knocked the sword from his grip with the help of her well-timed move.

Deep-seated anger and sadness that had been pushed down and buried suddenly rose up inside me, mingling with one another and filling me with an aggression I’m not sure I’d ever felt before.

I grabbed the red key from the box in front of me and ripped off the man’s helmet with the other as I slammed the key into his forehead just above the gap between his brows the second his helmet was free from his face.

It was the man who I’d seen earlier in the castle, the Seelie who had tried to steal the pendant from me.

His eyes stilled, but I pushed the key harder and harder, feeling it crack through bone until his gilded blood coated all but the top three curves of the key, which now barely protruded from his skull.

His body began to fade quickly, growing more and more translucent until it began to crumble into nothingness.

I pushed my fingers into the man’s fading skull trying to pry the key from its place, but it refused to dislodge.

Something was happening in my periphery, causing Thistle to squeal.

I desperately needed to give my full attention to it, but I couldn’t lose my key or there was no possible way I would win this game.

In a sudden burst of deterioration, the man was gone, nothing but dust still being whisked away in the heavy air.

My hand shot out and caught the key just before it dropped to the ground.

Snapping my attention back to what was causing Thistle to scream, I was relieved to find it wasn’t a scream of pain, but the little unicorn’s high-pitched war cry.

She had pierced her beautiful (and unbelievably sharp) horn through a man’s thigh and had pulled him from his horse.

The second he dropped to the ground, he evaporated like the others had.

My girl was a goddess of war.

A laugh shot from my throat as I replaced our key and closed the lid, watching in delighted surprise as she repeated the move on the next rider and then yet another, easily skewering their legs with her horn and yanking their unsuspecting bodies onto the ground until, one by one, the small group had been cleared.

“Go on, go to the edge, catch your breath,” I shouted to Thistle as I moved her out to the edge of the field.

“You okay? Did you get hurt?” I crooned, leaning over and around her neck, checking for any injuries while fearing the worst. There was no way she could have possibly been in the middle of all of that and not gotten hurt.

I ran my hand over her coat, every which way that I could without dismounting and came away with nothing more than a small streak of blood from her previous scratch.

She was hot and covered in sweat and her breathing was still heavy.

Mentally, I knew she would ride with me to the ends of this realm, but physically, I knew her little body was losing stamina.

“I’ll take control now. You earned a break.

Follow my lead and”—I struggled to swallow the lump in my throat as I watched three more riderless horses leave the arena—“if anything happens to me, be friendly to the stable boy, he’s a good kid and will watch out for you. ”