Chapter 29 Lore #2
Famine’s golden-blond hair was braided tightly back, revealing a visage that seemed chiseled by conflict itself, each feature a testament to the chaos he embodied.
And Death… dear gods, he was a vision of haunting beauty.
Terrifying in his allure, his raven-black hair curled softly at the nape of his neck and his eyes were like clear blue ice that commanded attention.
Those eyes were the last ones countless had gazed upon, and I prayed I wouldn’t be one of those unfortunate souls.
His full lips curved into a wicked grin as he inspected our group, a silent promise of the destruction he would unleash.
The air around them seemed to vibrate with violence, a dark energy that dripped from their presence despite their stillness.
A wild thrumming began, and I couldn’t tell if it was the Fae stomping their feet in the stands, the pounding of our hearts as we stared at those who’d dole out our deaths, or the very ground beneath the horsemen trembling in anticipation of the devastation they heralded.
I was seriously starting to spiral. It had to be something with their magic. On top of the Liber Noctem’s dark power, the horsemen made me feel helpless and alone and destined for death.
I distracted myself from falling into the trap of feeling completely doomed by plotting my best strategy.
If Sloth were here, that’s exactly what he’d do: calculate his surroundings, search for useful tools, then carry out his plan without any hint of emotion.
I thought back to the spider attack, to our conversation.
He’d said the spiders wanted us to be afraid, that they’d use our emotions against us. These Fae were no different. And the same could be said about the Liber Noctem itself. In fact, this realm, this whole test, was really about pushing the limits of fear, seeing how long it took for me to break.
The horsemen were terrifying, no doubt about it.
Whispers of their names alone inspired dread. Everyone feared the horsemen of the apocalypse—they weren’t known to usher in a good time.
But I needed to maintain my inner calm, to not panic. These were not the real horsemen of the apocalypse, these were characters from my book. And they could be defeated.
The amphitheater, the hungry gleam in their eyes, the weapons, all of it was meant to intimidate us, to make us easier to manipulate.
I inhaled and slowly exhaled. I wouldn’t pretend like I had mastered my fear, but I would do my best to channel it into something useful.
A cool breeze lifted strands of my hair, and I smiled at the small gift.
The sky was a deep, velvety black, punctuated by a full moon that cast a harsh silvery light across the landscape.
Under any other circumstances it would be welcome, but tonight it signaled more bad luck.
The moon’s brilliant glare illuminated the field, and from what I could make out of the forest, it was shining brightly there too.
With the fullness of the moon, the forest wouldn’t provide much concealment in the shadows, but heading there was still better than running across the mostly empty field without any cover at all.
Conquest faced us.
“When the trumpet sounds, you have ten minutes to hide in the forest. Then we hunt.”
My mind raced. Ten minutes. It wasn’t the best head start considering we were facing immortal legends of the hunt, but it was better than nothing.
I tried to picture what the heroine in my second-favorite survival novel would do. Find high ground, locate water, avoid open spaces.
Water seemed less important at first, but then I remembered that it was harder to track prey if they ran through a stream.
“When you hear two more short trumpet blasts, that means the ten minutes are up. If you survive without being caught until sunrise, you win.”
The lip biter raised her hand. A ripple of indignation went through the stands as if asking a simple question was the worst offense. Pompous Fae.
“How many are allowed to win?”
“All of you.” He gave her that terrifying grin that made me wary. “But we’ve not been bested once. When we catch you, we’ll drag you back here for the crowd to decide your fate.”
What a tremendous pep talk.
Conquest was saying something else, seeming to play to the crowd, and I tuned him out, attempting to hear any subtle sounds of rushing water.
The moment that trumpet blared, I wanted to pick a direction and run like the devil was chasing me. I couldn’t be sure, but I almost swore I heard the faintest hint of water flowing from the left.
Maybe that was just the sound of my pulse gushing through my veins.
My palms tingled and I bounced on the balls of my feet. I wasn’t the best runner, but I’d had some practice recently.
Who knew I’d be thankful for the goblin cannibal and her death wolf?
The trumpet blasted and I sprinted for the tree line.
I made it there faster than I’d ever run before and dodged through the tangled vines of the forest, the ground trembling beneath my feet along with the vibrations of the others running close behind me.
I veered deeper into the woods, wanting to lose the other prey and find a quiet place to listen for water.
We couldn’t stick close together or we’d be picked off in one swift group.
Twigs snapped underfoot and I winced at the noise.
Speed was my best strategy now; stealth would come later.
Thorned branches grazed my skin, leaving tiny trails of blood from my exposed legs and arms. I hoped that wouldn’t prove disastrous for being tracked.
There wasn’t anything I could do, my borrowed tunic only covered so much, and I had no time to slow down to avoid getting cut on branches.
My lungs burned, but I barely dared to inhale; behind me, the shrill whoops of the Fae spectators were still far too loud for my comfort.
If I could hear them that well, I needed to run harder and faster.
I jumped over fallen logs and stumbled a bit but kept moving.
The rules to winning the hunt were simple: run, hide, survive.
And no matter what, do not allow myself to wallow in fear or be fooled into believing I was alone forever.
I tuned out the fear, the worry, the anxiety, and just concentrated on placing one foot in front of the other. My mind was as sharp as a blade, focused on escape.
I kept running, my legs pumping harder and faster than ever.
I emptied all thoughts except the feel of my boots slamming into the earth, the wind tugging strands of my hair loose, and the steady beat of my heart.
Several long minutes passed, and eventually all other sounds faded. No other prey crashed through the forest, no joyful Fae calling for our deaths.
Unfortunately, I also didn’t hear the trumpets. I must have gone out of hearing range, which was both good and bad.
I had to assume the ten minutes were long up and the horsemen would be prowling through the woods.
I didn’t slow my pace; I kept sprinting as fast as I could through the undergrowth. I’d have to slow soon, but not yet.
A little while later, my muscles began to ache from exhaustion, and my mouth felt as dry as the desert.
I’d been running for what felt like ages on low energy, and I knew that in a forest this old, every step could be either the worst betrayal or the greatest salvation.
A betrayal by stepping wrong and twisting an ankle or breaking a limb, or salvation by providing a place to hide.
If I broke a bone now, I would have no chance to win the hunt.
The canopy above me suddenly pulsed with something that looked like a pale blue Fae light and made weird shadows flicker over the root-knotted ground.
Wonderful.
Conquest hadn’t mentioned anything about Fae magic being permitted. I wondered what other surprises they had in store for us. Maybe this was a nightmare creature spawned from Somnia to keep things interesting.
I really hated this nightmare-inducing realm.
I darted beneath some low hanging moss, and the air underneath it thickened with a sweetness that immediately dulled my senses.
I had a sinking feeling the Fae or the plants were releasing some toxin.
I held my breath, trying to take in as little air as possible.
Gods only knew what it could do if I breathed in too much of it.
I might strip and start howling at the moon, or maybe I’d roll around in the leaves like some wild, untamed beast scratching fleas.
I cursed myself for silently asking the dreaded what other fun surprise might come next question. That never ended in cake or cocktails and a day off.
From somewhere to my left, the silvery laughter of another person echoed—much closer than I liked. It was female, so it wasn’t one of the horsemen, and I doubted it was one of the mortals.
But that didn’t mean this random Fae was any less lethal.
My heart jackhammered and my blood turned to ice.
I dove for cover, rolling silently into a tangle of brambles, the thorns snagging at my tunic and scratching my already battered arms.
I didn’t so much as blink.
I waited, trying to slow my racing pulse. There were no other sounds. I wondered if it was real or if I could thank the Liber Noctem for a new mental assault.
I lifted my face and exhaled, slow and measured, then pushed myself up from where I’d crouched. I crept out from the underbrush and waited a few beats, listening to make sure I was alone.
Once I was positive there were no other Fae lurking, I walked briskly between the trees.
This wasn’t a sprint anymore.
This was a dance, and the price of a single misstep was my life.
Survive the story or suffer your fate.
It was a charming mantra I couldn’t seem to stop silently repeating. I wondered if the Book of Nightmares was hoping to twist my thoughts, to get deeper into my head to try to make me lose this test.
Then I wished I hadn’t considered that. I needed to focus on surviving one mini disaster at a time.
I moved along an animal trail, the moss springy under my boots as it swallowed the sounds of my footfalls.
It was another blessing and a curse. The moss was helping to cover my steps but would be doing the same for anyone following me.
I listened for the telltale rhythm of pursuit.