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“Wait. Don’t turn it on yet.” Calming my thoughts, I gently reach out to the cat with my mind. Willing it to hear me. To relax.
Don’t hurt us. My thoughts carry over the snow to the animal. Let us go. You’ve eaten enough. Let every human that passes your territory live.
I can feel the creature’s disdain. Why would it listen to me? A mortal?
Because I’m not just a mortal, I send over the snow. I’m the Summer Court Princess.
Mack and I both jump as the snow leopard lets loose a frustrated roar that turns into a yowl.
“Why isn’t it attacking?” she squeaks.
“I think it’s full. Now we should go.”
The leopard sits on its haunches and watches, only pouting a little as we near the portal.
“I still don’t understand,” Mack is saying. “It should have killed us. They eat like six goats and deer a day.”
I shrug, pointing to the portal’s orange rim. Leaves drift from the entrance and blow around us. “Fall Court territories.”
A small shape rushes from the portal and across the snow, its stench immediate and nauseating. The cat-sized, moss green creature is covered in warts, and it wields a small, spiked club.
“Moss goblin.” Mack wrinkles her nose as we watch the angry little beast run straight toward the leopard, too busy pounding its dumb stick to notice until—
Ew.
The leopard finishes with its unexpected meal, licks its maw, and gives me a look that says, You didn’t say I couldn’t eat goblins.
“Moss goblins only live in two ancient forests inside the Fall Court,” Mack explains, reminding me how big and beautiful her brain is. “One is a beautiful place with winding rivers and dire wolves. The other is a decaying wood infested with every manner of troll and orc.”
My shoulders sag. “Then of course it’s the gross forest with the trolls and orcs. The other would be too easy.”
A part of me is thankful, though. I can kill an orc or a troll without batting an eye. They’re cruel, greedy creatures that use up the land until it’s ruined beyond repair. But hurting an animal, especially a wolf . . . I’m just not made for that sort of thing.
Shaking the thought from my mind, I reach into my magical pouch and conjure a disgusting vial of green troll musk—to hide our scent—and a wrist-mounted crossbow that comes with a sleeve of iron-tipped bolts.
To murder orcs and trolls with, obviously.
Mack chooses a sword and a magical torch that lights on command. Along with being greedy and stupid, orcs and trolls are supposed to be scared of fire.
Choices made, we leap to the other side. The stench hits me first. Sulfur, mud, and rot. Mack drags up the new map, and we quickly plan out the course before surging ahead. The giant oak and elm trees must have been glorious once, and a few still retain their vibrant array of golden and orange leaves.
Most, however, are in various stages of death, their beautiful foliage carpeting the forest floor in wet, decaying piles.
The troll musk was genius, and we manage to sneak nearly all the way to the second portal before our sweat washes the musk away. An orc bellows to my right, the sound coming from a mound of branches and leaves. The orc’s nest.
Falling into our positions, we slash and fight our way to safety. The dying forest fills with the sound of our classmates doing the same. We pass a few of them. Little by little, Mack and I gain ground until I spot the flickering gleam of the next portal through the underbrush. There’s no doubt which season awaits us next. The flames of the portal are bright orange and a strong, hot wind blows from the other side.
“Summer Court.” I inhale deeply. “It smells like . . . smoke.”
“The burning savannah.” Mack takes a step back from the portal, brow furrowed.
Just like me, mud splatters her clothes, leaves and twigs caught in her hair. Dark, oily specks of orc blood fleck her face—but I don’t dare tell her.
“Is that as bad as it sounds?”
“The weather is hot, windy, and dry, and fire sprites inhabit the grasses, which means wildfires are a constant.”
I frown. “Is there any nearby water?”
