Page 39 of Fae Games

His happy features dropped. “That’s another way of putting it.”

I pulled myself upright. “How long was I out?”

“Technically, only a few minutes. His Highness brought you here the moment you swooned, and the Duke of Medietas wanted you awakened to conduct an interrogation that I believe caused your current ailment.”

My brows drew together, and I glanced around his room. Apart from a couple of pixies placing bottles on the shelves, there was no sign of Helen’s father or Prince Bradwell waiting for me to answer questions.

“So, you drove them away?” I asked.

“The calming draught I enchanted into your belly along with the nourishing elixir should restore the magic and energy you lost from the shock you encountered.”

I glanced around the walls for a clock or sundial or any kind of timekeeping piece, but all I found were shelves stretching to the ceiling. “What time is it?”

“If you hurry, you will make it for a hearty breakfast before classes. However, my assistants can prepare you a balanced—”

“What?” A stab of panic lanced my heart, and I leaped off the bed. I was going to be late.

“Excuse me?” The healer’s fluffy, white brows drew together.

“The beauty contest!”

He placed his arms behind his back and rocked forward on his heels. “Prince Bradwell was most concerned about your health and told me to let you sleep the entire morning.”

“I’ll bet he did!” I swung out of bed, and one of the pixies flew across the room, holding my blazer. After shouldering it on, I dashed to the door and turned its handle. “Thanks for taking care of me!”

I stepped out, and the door closed behind me. To my front, left, and right, a maze of stone hallways stretched to what appeared to be infinity, and the walls curled in on themselves, making my stomach twist with imagined vertigo. I spun around to ask Healer Tarax for help, but another hallway had replaced the door.

Keeping my hand to the wall, I took a tentative step to the right and continued walking until the wall opened up into a stone staircase. As soon as I reached out for the railing, it turned into a white snake, which raised its head and hissed through a mouthful of fangs.

Terror spiked through my heart. I snatched my hand away and leaped back, shaking so hard, I could barely stand. The pulse between my ears pounded like war drums.

“Bloody hell,” I said through shuddering breaths.

This had to be another glamor. Set by Prince Bradwell or one of the other faeries who wanted me out of this trial. With fingers that wouldn’t stop trembling, I reached into my pocket, fumbled for the open salt sachet, and emptied its contents onto my tongue.

I’m not sure what the healer gave me, but the foulest taste filled my mouth, making me double over and retch. Tears flooded my eyes, and I grabbed onto the wall for balance. If I stayed in this place any longer, I would no longer be able to tolerate salt.

An eye-watering moment later, the worst of the nausea vanished, and I straightened. When my vision cleared, I found myself standing on the ledge of a door-sized, arched window. Beneath me was a fifty-foot drop to a stone courtyard.

I scrambled back, tripped over my feet, and fell on my ass with a tailbone-shattering crunch. Pain shot up my spine, but it was nothing compared to what might have happened if I hadn’t stopped to take salt.

“They mean to kill me,” I whispered to myself.

A sarcastic voice asked me if I’d finally gotten the message, but I pushed it to one side and staggered to my feet. I had to reach this contest, even if it meant parading in my academy uniform. Princes Caulden and Rory were waiting for me.

I turned around and continued to the top of a stone staircase that twisted around itself like a coiled snake. I placed a tentative hand on its rail, waiting for it to transform and attack me with its fangs, but it remained a stone handrail.

This was probably the same staircase I saw the Fated descend on my first day of the academy. It was less than a week ago, but so much had happened since then that I barely recognized myself.

As I reached the middle, I tried to remember what had made me faint. Helen’s father had been investigating her loss of magic and banishment. Had I been paranoid that Prince August had carried out his threat to have me exposed for dark magic? Something about my being a pawn with a dark master, I think.

I let those thoughts drift away. It had been Prince Bradwell at the Duke of Medietas’s side, and he had been ranting about—

My knees buckled. I grabbed onto the rail with both hands, but my body swung around, turning me back to front.

Elijah.

Elijah had whored me out to fuck-knows how many faeries who had taken on his image and visited our house. Nausea rose to the back of my throat, and tears stung the back of my eyes.