Page 29 of Enchantra (Wicked Games #2)

28

TOKEN

Over the next few hours, Genevieve made enough flower crowns for a small army. She’d braided hers through her soft curls and even made one small enough to fit around Umbra’s neck like a collar. Which the Familiar did not seem all too pleased with. Though definitely more pleased than Rowin, who was now wearing the strings of flowers atop his head, around his neck, and on each of his wrists. The soft pastel petals were so at odds lying against his tattooed skin, yet it somehow only enhanced his allure to her.

“Stop giggling to yourself over there,” he ordered.

She pressed her lips together in amusement. He was currently walking back and forth across the bridge, sending waves of glowing fish down the stream over and over as he tried to figure out Knox’s game.

“It has something to do with the white fish,” he said for the thousandth time. “There’s no other reason for them to be a different color.”

“How many triggers are there again?” she called.

“Eight.”

“And which ones have the white fish?” she wondered as she discarded another ringlet of flowers and stood.

“It’s random.” He pressed down on one of the stones, and a ripple tore through the water in response. “The first two release only golden fish. But the third has white fish as well. Then four is gold, five has white, six has white, seven is only gold, and eight has white.”

“Are there the same number of white fish each time?” she wondered.

He paused. Then, “For fuck’s sake.”

She watched as he pressed down on each stone he’d noted produced the white fish. Sure enough, the numbers were all different. A group of three, a group of four, a pair, and one lone ivory swimmer.

Rowin quickly went to work stepping on the stones in ascending order. They waited, but nothing happened. He tried descending order next. Nothing.

“Try ascending order with each of the other stones in between,” she suggested.

So, he did. One white fish. All gold. Two white fish. All gold. On and on until the entire sequence was complete.

And something happened.

All the fish flooded back into the river at once, and instead of disappearing somewhere downstream this time, they meandered around lazily. Their golden glow filled the meadow.

“That was…a bit anticlimactic,” Genevieve said, hand propped on her hip. “I expected more?—”

“Look,” Rowin interrupted as he pointed at something in the water.

Genevieve squinted, searching beneath the surface for something new.

There . A single crimson fish.

“Umbra, fetch,” Rowin directed.

Umbra looked up from where she was bathing herself a few feet from Genevieve on the bank. At Rowin’s order, the fox lifted her back leg and scratched at the flower necklace around her throat until it tore away and then promptly dove into the water.

Genevieve made a noise of annoyance. She’d worked hard on that one.

They watched as Umbra paddled through the water, the Familiar’s head darting back and forth as she tracked her scarlet mark. When she dove beneath the surface, Genevieve edged forward in awe, watching as Umbra caught her prey with quick precision.

The moment the fox’s maw grasped onto her target, however, something shifted.

The stars in the sky began to wink in and out before turning a foreboding crimson color. The glow of the fish below them also changed, swathing everything in an eerie vermilion hue. Like blood. The fish slowly began to transform as well, their scales shifting from their luminescent gold to pitch-black, their faces suddenly locking all at once onto Umbra.

And then Genevieve saw the teeth.

Rowin shouted Umbra’s name in warning, but it was too late. The fish darted all at once.

Before Rowin could dive over the side of the bridge for his helpless Familiar, the silver railing began to contort, striking out toward him and wrapping itself around his torso. A cage. Genevieve didn’t know what came over her then. All she saw was the look of agony on Rowin’s face as he struggled to free himself to help Umbra, and the cloud of dark red unfurling in the center of the river.

Genevieve dove in.

Her ankle was still sore, her side still aching from where Remi had caught her with the Hunting Blade, but she didn’t stop swimming. As she hoped, the piranhas paid her no attention as she cut through their frenzy, their sights locked only on Umbra and the glowing crimson prize. She knew as soon as she reached the Familiar that she wouldn’t have much time. The closer she got, the thicker the blood became, clouding her vision, making it hard to distinguish the red fish in Umbra’s jaws.

As soon as Genevieve spotted wild amber eyes and thrashing black paws through the murk, she grasped as much of Umbra’s flank as she could and ripped the Familiar from the swarm. Tucking the fox into her body with one arm and propelling herself forward with her other, she kicked them toward the bank, swimming as fast as she possibly could. The piranhas instantly gave chase.

She could hear the muffled sounds of her gown being shredded to pieces, the weight of the clinging skirts still hindering her momentum. Then came their jagged little teeth digging into her flesh. She screamed, sending all the air in her lungs back up to the surface in a swirl of bubbles, thrashing wildly as her own blood spilled into the water around her. She kicked and kicked as the vicious fish ripped into her flesh, but her grip on Umbra stayed firm, the Familiar’s jaw around her token equally unwavering.

When they finally hit the bank, Genevieve used the rest of her strength to launch Umbra out of the river and onto the earth. As soon as the crimson fish was no longer in the water, the piranhas fell away, their scales slowly melting back into their previous golden glow. And as Genevieve bled out into the stream, sinking further and further down, everything went black.

The fog was so thick in her mind she couldn’t tell what was real and what wasn’t. But at least this time she wasn’t dreaming of fire.

No, she was very, very cold.

The sound of tolling bells vibrated all around her, synchronizing to the slowing beat of her heart.

“She’s so cold,” a deep voice growled.

“She’s lost too much blood,” someone else said.

Something soft and fuzzy pressed against her side as scorching hands smoothed hair away from her face. She tried to say something, but the words wouldn’t come out.

“I’ve got you,” that first voice whispered. “I won’t let you go.”

“It’s going to really cost you this time,” someone said softly.

“You can have the token,” a familiar voice swore. “ Just help her. ”

“And if I say no? And she dies?” the first voice wondered.

No response.

A minute later and a sharp, electric sensation began to ripple through her body. Starting at her fingertips and crawling up over every inch of her skin. Whatever sort of magic it was, it itched terribly, and she desperately wanted to scratch, but she still couldn’t move.

“Hold still,” the familiar voice soothed. “Just a little longer, I promise.”

More silence. The zaps continued.

“I’m onto you, you know,” the soft voice finally spoke again.

Again, no response.

Genevieve wasn’t sure how much time had gone by when the itching finally stopped.

“You have to hold on for me,” that voice demanded now. The one that was keeping her warm.

“What will you give me if I do?” she tried to say back.

A long pause.

“What would you request?” The words were nearly a whisper this time.

“Something real,” she said.

Silence.