But it was happening. It was happening to me.
Leading the crowd were five men—one I didn’t know, one I recognized as the King of Ayelswick, Kipton Donahue, Pierce Carmichael, and my father.
My father was here. Why was my father here?
Caspian’s father was here.
My head spun.
“Welcome to the Ceremony of Cares,” Kipton said with a grin plastered on his face, as though he were welcoming ten-year-olds to a birthday party.
“Fuck off,”was on the tip of my tongue, but I held it in until I knew exactly what this was and what they planned to do.
The girl closest to me blinked in confusion. “Where are we?” Her voice was hoarse. She must have just woken up from being drugged, too.
I cut my gaze over to her. “Sshh.”
She closed her eyes for a long beat, then opened them again. “I’m going to pass out.”
I grabbed her elbow. “You’re going to be fine. Just breathe. That’s it. Slow and deep.” I talked to her the way I spoke to my newer ballet students.
“Oh, look. We already have some bonding,” Kipton said, then his eyes narrowed at me. “Too bad it won’t save her.”
I looked at my father.
His eyes darted to the ground.
Coward.
“Do you really think you can get away with this?” I shouted. Whateverthiswas.
Kipton stepped over to me, pinching my chin between his fingers. “Darling, I could slit your throat in the middle of Times Square and get away with it. Remember who you’re fucking with.” He let go of my chin and walked back to his place. “Normally, we make an example out of our effigies. We release them back into the earth. We set ourselves free of their burden.” He spoke low and deep. “But this year we’re doing things a little differently. This year is special.”
Effigies.As in something that represents something else, something bad, something some cultures burn to release negative spirits.
We were effigies.
I glanced at the fires around us, and my stomach dropped.
Five of the shirtless, masked men appeared from the shadows. They were carrying something—horns. They each carried a set of horns, ridged and long with a delicate curve then a sharp point at the end. Like an antelope’s horns.
Khalid stepped forward from the background, and my heart lurched to my throat. His cloak was different from the rest. His bore a lion’s head as its hood.
The men strapped the horns onto our heads. One of the girls started to sob and beg.
I didn’t. I knew it wouldn’t do any good. I knew the only way out of these woods… was to go into them.
Other men started moving forward from the crowd, at least twenty of them, all of them wearing the lion cloak. Twenty of them. Five of us.
Kipton’s wicked grin grew wide. “This year we’re going to let them keep you.” He glared directly at me. “This year, they’ll make you their bride.”That explained the white robes.“What happens after that is fair game.” His tone lightened, and he threw up a hand. “Now, in the spirit of the hunt, we’ve placed weapons throughout The Grove. All you have to do is find them—if you dare to stop running long enough to look.” He laughed, and the crowd laughed with him.
Sadistic bastards. Was this what they did for fun? How many times had they done it before? I didn’t even want to know.
My father stepped in front of me. His eyes were filled with something—not regret, not remorse. Resentment. His gaze burned with anger. “All you had to do was stay away from him.” He was talking about Caspian.
“Why? So you could sell me to the highest bidder?” Did my mother know what kind of man she married?
“I’m only going to say this once.” Kipton inhaled a deep breath, as if this either exhausted or bored him. His eyes found me. The reflection of the fire danced in the black, soulless depths.