And she’d snapped.
Camilla had used the dagger Blade had gifted her, crafted of sharp, immortal steel, but it had been her strength, her inner power, the Fae part of her locked deep inside, that had emerged.
Ruthless, feral.
She’d struck at the connective tissue in Vexley’s neck, sawing through the tiny bones of his spine in one, brutal, ragged slash. If time hadn’t been running against them, Camilla would have fallen upon Vexley’s undead corpse, tearing him apart, bit by bit.
She’d caught Vexley by surprise, getting lucky.
Camilla needed to focus, remain calm, plot how to get them out of this predicament immediately. She darted a look at the entrance several yards away on the other side of the ancient site. She hadn’t spared more than a cursory glance at the Twin Pillars.
She’d spotted Vexley and Envy and had circled them, gaze split between the floor and the vampire, doing her best not to make a sound as she slowly approached.
Vexley’s headless corpse was gruesome.
And, most unfortunately, in the way.
She grabbed him by the ankles and dragged him off to the side, the procession slow and painful, his weight and size ensuring that she worked hard to rid herself of him.
Once he was far enough away, she squeezed her eyes shut and grabbed his head, holding it gingerly by the hair, trying not to gag as she deposited it next to his unmoving form.
That dark deed done, she rushed to Envy again.
Camilla rattled the chains once more, the magic burning her skin. She wasn’t sure how Envy had survived so long with them wrapped around his wrists and ankles. The pain was overwhelming in her brief contact with them.
She braced herself and picked up the length of chain again, turning it over in her hands, attention searching. There had to be some way to break them. A clue. A riddle.
Camilla thought of the game master, of what twisted way he’d devise for them to be unlocked. Then she saw it, faintly etched onto the links. A riddle.
She looked closer, spying a series of letters that could be moved around the lock to form an answer. The space made it clear she was looking for one word. Five letters.
For some plants, mortals, and all animals, too,
this begins but has no end
and ends all that begins.
Answer me correctly at the start, or after three tries I’ll permanently stop his heart.
She expelled a long breath, staring at the last warning. She had three chances to answer the riddle correctly, or somehow Envy would die.
She covered her face, fighting the urge to scream. Pressure built behind her eyes, in her chest, stealing the breath from her lungs as she tried to puzzle out the riddle without thinking about the clock ticking. Without worrying about a wrong guess.
“For some plants, mortals, and all animals, too,” she said aloud, hoping it would spark some connection. “Stems, limbs, teeth…”
She swore roundly. Nothing made sense for all of them.
Perhaps if it hadn’t felt as if a dagger were being held to her throat, she’d have been calm enough to think. Why couldn’t this be a riddle based on art? On something she knew without question?
“Breath, souls, heart…” Could plants have hearts? Camilla had never really paid much attention but knew there were plants that had heart in the name. Bleeding hearts. It was certainly morbid and threatening enough, but was it correct? The riddle didn’t say all plants, just some. Mortals and all animals had hearts.
For some plants, mortals, and all animals, too,
this begins but has no end
and ends all that begins.
It didn’t fully connect with the second part of the riddle, though. But maybe it did, and she just couldn’t see that part clearly now.
Her fingers trembled as she reached for the chain again.
“Please be correct.”
Camilla had three chances. If this failed, she still had two more tries.
She rolled the first letter into place.
H
Then the second.
E
The third.
A
Fourth.
R
And hesitated on the fifth. She read over the riddle again, this time with growing suspicion. It didn’t mention any consequence for a wrong response, but she didn’t trust the game master.
For some plants, mortals, and all animals, too,
this begins but has no end
and ends all that begins.
Envy’s chest barely rose, his breathing labored. Even if they didn’t have to hurry to solve the next clue after this, they were running out of time.
Camilla sent up a quick prayer to whomever might be listening and twisted that final letter into place.
T
Envy’s body jolted as if struck by lightning, a howl of pain tearing free, echoing through the chamber, a symphony of agony. The magical chains flared with a light so brightly intense, Camilla had to blink several times before the little spots disappeared.
“Envy!” She went to pull the chains away from his skin, then screeched. The chains pulsed with power now, ratcheting up in intensity. “Shit.”
He slumped back to the ground, groaning. He was still unconscious. The chains radiated a menacing buzz now, indicating that each wrong response would intensify the magic running through them until it grew so powerful it could end an immortal life.
Camilla jumped to her feet, pacing. She could not get the next one wrong.
For some plants, mortals, and all animals, too,
this begins but has no end
and ends all that begins.
What? What connected them all? It had to be simple.
Camilla felt tears threatening. She was frustrated and scared and downright furious with the game master. His game was bad enough without subjecting them to mental and physical torture. She stopped pacing, using her surging emotions to center herself.
The game master knew they were close to finishing the game. Which meant she’d see him soon. Camilla focused on that, allowed it to fuel her. She and Envy had not come this far to be thwarted by the Unseelie King in the final moments of their game.
When she walked into that wretched court, not if, she would do so as a victor.
Starting with this cursed riddle.
Camilla repeated it out loud, determination running through her in waves. The game master thought himself clever, but she was too. She knew the answer. Knew it was simple. Fear had shut down her logic, but she would not allow it to overtake her now.
For some plants, mortals, and all animals, too,
this begins but has no end
and ends all that begins.
Some plants. Mortals. And all animals, too. Think, she commanded herself. What do they have in common? The careful phrasing. Some plants. All animals. And simply mortals.
They were all living things. But that didn’t connect them. Some plants. Camilla paced away, her thoughts focused inward. Some plants… all plants were alive. But some plants…
“All right,” she said. “If I were in House Sloth, plants would be broken down into categories. Flowering, fruits, trees, bushes… and annuals and perennials.”
Her pulse thrashed. That felt right. Some plants were annuals; they needed to be replanted each year. Some plants were perennials. They came back each year on their own.
Suddenly, she knew what the answer was.
Chills raced down Camilla’s body.
“Death.”
Some plants died. Mortals and all animals died too. Death ended all that began. And once it began, there was no undoing it. Death also had five letters. It fit.