Silence met her query.
“Wow. Save the enthusiasm for later, okay?” the harpy griped. “We’ve decided to take it easy on you this go-round.”
That did it. Cheers rang out.
Head in the game, girl.
When the celebration quieted, Tonka added, “When you hear the horn, all you must do is venture topside, find a queen of hearts flower, and bring it back here. Oh. And you gotta do it in fifteen minutes or less.”
Groans of distress rose from the masses. Uh-oh. What was a queen of hearts flower?
Blythe searched for Lucca, intending to ask her. Of course, the horn sounded and combatants scrambled out of the arena.
A plan formed. Blythe flashed topside, waiting at the well. A group of competitors shot from its shadowed depths, landed in the palace foyer, and sprinted outside. She stayed put, searching for Lucca... Yes! Payday, baby! The harpy and the Phoenix emerged from the well together.
Blythe jetted after them, blazing over grass, soon passing the circle of silos. Jockeying for a better position, she elbowed and shoulder checked anyone in her path. The combatants behind her ganged up to knock her feet together. Down she tumbled, the immortals trampling over her. She didn’t stay down, though. Nope, she ignored the bumps and bruises, and surged to her feet, giving chase once more. No sign of Lucca now. Dang it!
As Blythe pumped her arms to increase her pace, she followed the females ahead of her. They aimed for Wraith Island.
She mentally shifted through the sights she’d encountered the last time she’d traveled this direction. A wooded terrain. A field of wheat. A small village. A cemetery. A stretch of gravel. Another wooded terrain, two other villages, then the beach. Unless... Were the queen of heart flowers foundonWraith Island?
If so, Blythe could flash and arrive before everyone else. If not, she would waste precious time. She also ran the risk of losing the crowd, her current GPS.
Considering she had no idea what she was looking for, she opted to remain near the other combatants.
Through the woods they went. Trees blurred at her sides. Suddenly, prickles on her nape alerted her to a possible threat. She scanned...and sucked in a breath. Erebus! Up ahead, he stood in the frame of a red door, wearing his customary black robe, with an expanse of a star-studded sky behind him. He held a length of chain, and he offered the smile she reviled most. Smug.
“I have a surprise for you, daughter,” he called. “A good one.”
Fury scorched her. How she longed to punch that grin off his face and rip out his guts with her claws. No doubt he’d popped in to distract her at a critical juncture. She hadn’t forgotten the truth: she was nothing but Astra bait to daddy dearest.
Maybe Erebus even knew she’d come to kind of, sort of...like Roux. Or maybe the Dark One hoped to taunt her about her doomed situation, and the role she played in it. How she’d been granted a miracle, a second consort, but surviving the tournament meant cursing Roux. Did she really want to do that now?
Could she do anything less?
She garnered the strength to ignore the god, sprinting on. But again and again he reappeared, always standing in the frame of that red door. No one else seemed to notice him. In fact, several combatants misted through him. He occupied a spiritual plane.
“Last chance,” he told her. As she approached the end of the woods, he tugged on the chain—yanking someone from behind his back.
Blythe nearly tripped over her own feet as she came to an abrupt halt. Her heart punched her ribs. This...this couldn’t be. Wasn’t possible. But the sight before her never altered. Laban. Her consort. Alive and well.
No, no. Must be a wraith in disguise. Or another hallucination. Finally. Her second sighting. He looked so different, yet the same. A spiked metal collar circled his throat. Like her father, he wore a black robe. His once golden skin was paler than before, the thick mane of dirty blond hair she’d loved to finger comb a tangled mess. His head hung low, but his dark eyes were lifted and glued on her.
He unveiled a small smile. “Hello, sweetness.”
His voice! This was no wraith in disguise.
With a screech of shock, Blythe launched forward, slipping into the spiritual plane. At the doorway, she hit an invisible block and bounced back. Impact rattled her brain and momentarily blurred her vision. “You prick,” she shouted at her father. “Let me touch him.” Would her fingers ghost through him?
Erebus ignored her. “Don’t be rude, Laban,” he said with the tone of a teacher speaking to a misbehaving child. “Tell your mate how beautiful you find her, even when she’s snapping at the hand trying to feed her.”
“You are the most beautiful sight in the world to me, Blythe,” the manticore croaked.
She came to her feet and pressed her hands over her churning stomach. “Let me touch him,” she repeated.
“Deal with your friend first.”
Friend? She heard the footsteps then, closing in fast. She turned just in time to spot an Amazon’s fist flying toward her face. Blythe ducked and kicked, sending her attacker stumbling into the dirt.