The other female didn’t seek revenge, but jumped up and hurried on, muttering, “You’ll get yours soon enough,” before disappearing past the line of trees.
“Well?” Erebus prompted. “I’ll hear your thanks now, daughter. I put your male back together. He’s not a hallucination. Aren’t you so happy?”
She skidded her gaze to her father and...and...her attention snapped back to Laban. Alive and well? No, this couldn’t be. No way, no how. She’d observed Erebus as he’d made some of his phantoms. A grotesque, awful process that involved the living, not the dead. “This isn’t my Laban. It can’t be.”
“Oh. I assure you. It is indeed your Laban.” The god’s tone hardened. “And if you want him back, you’ll kill Roux as planned. Soon. If not, I’ll kill Laban for good. After I’ve told him all about your escapades with the Astra. He’ll be riveted, I’m sure.”
She...he... This was another trick. She knew better than to trust a known liar to keep his word. And yet, despite her growing hunger for Roux, she felt a draw toward the male at the end of that chain. A need to get nearer to him.
Just another trick? For all she knew, he was nothing more than an illusion crafted with potent black magic.
If he wasn’t?
No! Erebus sought to distract her and circumvent her success.
Had the Blade of Destiny shown him a path to his own defeat? Loss was the only thing Erebus feared.
Determination came in like a freight train off the rails. Survive this round and plan. The Dark One had screwed her over for the final time. She would help Roux win his task and somehow save herself in the process. Then she and the Astra could face off about the past.
“Enjoy your defeat.” She smiled and zoomed off. As she exited the forest, she came upon Lucca and the Phoenix, who were headed back toward the palace. Both were sliced and diced in multiple places and soaked in blood. Carrigan was missing a hand but in the process of growing a new one.
“You’ll never get a flower and make it to the palace in time, even if you flash,” an earnest Lucca said, trying to propel Blythe in the same direction. “The bees are good and mad. A third of the competitors have already lost their heads.”
Bees? “Don’t bet against me,” she responded, preparing to blaze on. “You’ll always lose big.”
“You misunderstand.” The Phoenix jumped into her path. “We picked a queen of hearts for you.”
Blythe prepared to throw an elbow when the words registered. Uh... “Come again?” They’d gotten her, the Undoing, a flower?
“Here.” Lucca withdrew an ugly orange bloom missing petals.
Another trick? Surely.
And if not?
With great reluctance, Blythe accepted the offering. “Why would you do this?”
“For the moment, you’ll just have to trust that we have a reason. Right now, let’s qualify for round four. Come on.”
The pair dashed off, leaving her behind. Blythe hung back, immobilized by indecision. To follow or not?
What possible motive could they have for aiding her in a zero-sum game? Nothing struck her as good enough. And yet... She couldn’t shake a lingering doubt. What did they know that she didn’t?
Other combatants with shredded throats and missing appendages headed her way, many clutching the same orange bloom.
Not a trick, after all? Unless they were all in on it?
Deciding to risk it, Blythe flashed to the underground arena and presented her flower to Tonka.
“Son of a beast,” the harpy muttered. “You move on to round four. Yay.”
Roux thrust an arm into the air. Yes! Blythe had done it. She had obtained a queen of hearts flower and returned first. Others arrived soon after, and the horn blasted.
The harphantom immediately lifted her gaze, meeting his. A current of electricity arced between them, wild and sharp. Why did she appear so...desperate? Had something happened out there?
“Looks like your female survived,” Monna said. She stood with him at the edge of the dais.
He ignored her, appearing at Blythe’s side.