Page 22

Sapphire

“Come on,” Zoey says. “You’re practically radiating hunger. Just… project yourself, hunt, and eat. I’ll be fine here.”

She’s been repeating the same thing for the past two hours we’ve been huddling close for warmth in this freezing cold tent. It’s apparently designed to keep us somewhat warm, but there’s no such thing as warm in the Winter Court. And this time, we don’t have Riven’s coat to share as a blanket.

I close my eyes and press my hands to my stomach, which growls like a feral beast.

“I’m not leaving you here,” I tell her, keeping my voice quiet so the knights outside won’t overhear. “Plus, the animals in that forest aren’t normal. Who knows what’ll happen if I eat one? I could end up worse than I am now. ”

“If you don’t get some meat in you, you won’t make it through tomorrow’s trial,” she says. “I’m not about to lose you to an empty stomach when there’s a forest full of food out there.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I mutter.

“I absolutely have confidence.” She smiles, somehow managing to warm the tent with her positivity. “Confidence that I’ll be fine if you project yourself out of here for a bit. The knights haven’t checked on us since we came in here. No one’s going to see you leave, since you won’t have to technically leave the tent at all. And if the knights do decide to check on us, your body will still be in here. It’ll just look like you’re sleeping.”

“And if they try waking me up?”

“You’re a heavy sleeper?” She shrugs, smiling again. “They’re more likely to believe that than that you projected a magical ghostly version of yourself into the forest to hunt down a deer.”

“But he knows about my magic,” I say, not needing to elaborate for her to know who I’m talking about.

“Riven’s obsessed with you,” she waves it off. “And he doesn’t want you to die. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s not in that forest hunting down some meat for you as we speak.”

She glances at the bracelet, which will now forever remind me about how Riven went out of his way to find it and bring it back to me .

“But we can’t count on him doing that,” she continues. “Which is why you need to do it yourself.”

She’s right. I might not survive tomorrow if I’m this weak, Riven’s help or not.

“It’ll just be an hour. Maybe less.” She props herself up, determination etched across her face. “You hunt, eat, and come back. I’ll protect your body while you’re gone.”

I shudder, since I hate thinking about how vulnerable my body is when I project myself. I can’t even feel if something happens to it. Zoey and I tested it back in the tower.

“How am I supposed to hunt?” I ask her, pushing the thought of how dead my body looks while I’m projecting myself aside. “The most hunting I’ve ever done is through the frozen section in the grocery store.”

Zoey chuckles at that, and I can’t help but join her.

“You can find something in the woods to use as a weapon,” she suggests. “A tree branch, or a sharp rock. Or—and this is probably the best idea—an icicle. Just latch onto it with your magic and shoot it at your target.”

“You make it sound so easy,” I say, which doesn’t surprise me, since basically everything Zoey does comes naturally to her. She’d already be the best magic user in the fae realm if she was the changeling and not me.

“You have to try,” she insists again, and then she frowns, a troubled look crossing her eyes. “I won’t be able to get through these trials without you. I need you to be at your best.”

“You’re smart, determined, and resilient,” I tell her, not liking to hear this side of her with so much doubt in herself.

Zoey’s never doubted herself in her life.

“I am,” she agrees. “But I don’t have magic. No amount of brains or strength will ever make up for the weakness of only being human around here.”

I wish I could say she’s wrong.

But I can’t.

“Hunting isn’t as complicated as you think,” she continues, apparently done with discussing her humanity. “You just need to take your shot. Don’t overthink it.”

“The last time I held anything remotely like a weapon was a kitchen knife to slice limes for a margarita,” I say, pressing my hands to my stomach as another wave of hunger gnaws at me.

She huffs, waving me off. “Look, I’m not asking you to do anything fancy. When my dad takes me hunting, we use guns, and the principle’s the same. You spot your target, you keep steady, and you aim for the kill. It’s about control. You can do that with your magic just as easily as I can with a rifle. Just don’t put so much pressure on yourself.”

“You’re seriously comparing fae magic to hunting with your dad?” I ask .

“Totally,” she says, and then she rattles off a bunch more hunting advice, as unwilling to give up on this as she’s been with any hobby she’s ever pursued.

“Fine,” I give in. “But if anything happens—anything at all—you scream, okay?”

“I’ll scream bloody murder if I have to.” Her eyes light up, and she nods enthusiastically. “Now go, before you pass out and I have to carry your hangry ass through the trials tomorrow. And bring some sharp rocks back with you. It can’t hurt to have a stash of mini projectile weapons in our pockets.”

“Deal,” I say, and I quietly move in the tent to peek through a small gap, barely daring to breathe as I scan the area.

Riven sits beneath a nearby tree, his eyes closed, his head tilted back as he rests. Somehow, he manages to look alert even when he’s sleeping.

Ghost is curled beside him, breathing in slow, steady rhythms.

The four knights are stationed in various places around the perimeter. Two of them are resting, and the other two are alert.

Now’s the tricky part. Because I can only project to a place I can see. And the place I choose obviously can’t be one that will catch the knights’ attention.

It’ll have to be as far away as possible. But there’s only so much I can see through the slit in the tent .

Then, I see it. A shimmer of golden light, beaming from the sky like a message from the stars, illuminating a tree far in the distance.

The tree has a thick branch sticking out of it—one I can surely balance myself on.

That’s my target. A sign. It has to be.

So, I focus on the branch, call on my magic, and materialize on it.

From up here, the forest spreads out before me like a sea of trees and ice. The camp is barely there in the distance, and I’m far enough away that the knights probably assumed the noise was from an animal.

I have to hurry out of their line of sight.

Quickly, I eye the branches spanning before me. There are lots of other thick ones. Definitely thick enough to hold my weight. And none of them have leaves, so there’s not much for me to get stuck on.

Worst comes to worse, I’ll snap back into my body and no one will have any reason to think I came out here at all.

But sitting around up here isn’t doing me any favors. I have to move.

So, I take a deep breath and look up at the stars.

As if they’re answering my call, my skin tingles, buzzing with magic, filling me with what feels like the soft glow of night.

Time to go .

Just like when I ran along the branch at Riven’s window, I hurry across it now, pushing myself off the end and landing on the nearest branch with a surprising amount of precision. My body feels so incredibly light. It’s like gravity doesn’t exist—as if the air is guiding my movements—and I barely feel the cold thanks to the thrill of it all.

Keeping momentum, I jump to another branch, and another, and another.

Eventually, I spot my target.

A deer-like creature up ahead, like the one I saw while we were walking with the knights earlier. Its silvery fur glistens under the starlight, and its antlers are sharp enough to serve as weapons.

Perfect.

I don’t move. A single wrong step could alert it that I’m here, and there’s no way of knowing when I’ll find another deer.

Remembering Zoey’s advice, I spot a large icicle hanging from the branch of the tree I’m in, just thick enough to make a good weapon.

With as much focus as possible on being as quiet as I can, I crawl toward the icicle. And, by some miracle, I can’t even hear myself moving. It’s like there’s a thin cushion of air around me, protecting me from hitting anything on the tree that might cause any noise .

Before long, I’m at the icicle, reaching for it and closing my hand around its base.

Thanks to my body heat, the ice starts to melt where my skin is touching it. Which means it’s now liquid water—the type of water I can control with my summer fae magic.

But it’s going to take too long to wait for my body heat to melt the entire top off this thing.

Heat up, I think to the water touching my skin, focusing as hard as possible on the warmth building in my palm.

It does.

The moment the icicle’s free, I inch back into a crouch and grip it tightly, feeling the solid weight of it in my hand.

The deer remains unaware of me, grazing on the frost-covered ground.

But the icicle will only remain a weapon for as long as it’s frozen. Which means I have no time to waste.

Zoey’s advice flashes through my mind.

Steady hands, quick aim. It’s not about strength—it’s about control.

I slow my breathing, imagining the air around me guiding the icicle’s path with precision, just like it helped me jump through the treetops.

I raise my arm, take aim just behind its shoulder where its heart should be, and release .

The icicle flies from my hand, slicing through the air with a silent, deadly grace.

It hits.

The deer staggers, its silvery fur stained red as it crumples into the snow.

And, thanks to a magical miracle that I somehow pulled from the stars—along with Zoey’s advice—dinner is now served.