Chapter 17

“Oh yes,” Anton murmurs, nodding sagely. “One of those. Please, tell us more.”

I glance at Anton, again rolling my eyes because I know that he’s as ignorant as I am. He gives me a little smirk before we both turn our attention back to Laila.

“It was a deal,” Laila says, taking a sip of her sea water. “My great-great-great-Grandfather – I lost count of how many generations back – made a deal with the God of Death. In exchange for two hundred and fifty years of life –“

I gape at Laila, shocked, but she just continues on as if this is normal.

“- he promised that the God of Death could have his choice of any of the maidens of his family line to participate in the Games when that day came. Honestly,” she laughs a little, “it became sort of a fairy tale in our family until poof! One day, a little over a week ago, he shows up, ready to make good on the deal.”

I glance at Anton, who likewise stares in shock at Laila.

“So you…you didn’t choose to be here? Or want to be?” I ask.

“Yeah,” she says on a sigh. “He picked me out of the lineup of my sisters and cousins. And if I win, I don’t get the wish. Because the wish was kind of…paid up front to my ancestor.”

“That is such crap,” I growl, sitting back hard in my chair, pissed off for her already.

“Oh, it’s not so bad,” she sighs, looking down at her drink, her allegiances I think torn. “I mean, that ancestor used his long life to build our Kingdom into a powerhouse of wealth and knowledge. He used his long life wisely and it’s been a great benefit to our people.” She shrugs. “I’m not sure it was too hard a price.”

“Laila,” I say, leaning forward, placing my hand flat on the table. “If you lose your life in this Game, it was too high a price. If you have to marry a man you don’t love, it was too high a price.”

She continues to look down for a moment in silence before she raises her eyes to mine. “You’re a Princess too, right?”

I nod, quite solemn.

“And you wouldn’t give your life to give your people a thousand years of happiness and prosperity?”

I hesitate because…honestly, I’m not sure.

“It might be retroactive,” she says with a little shrug, “but…if the same choice were before me now, I’d give it. Gladly.”

“You’re a better person and Princess than I am, then, Laila,” I say on a sigh. “I’m not sure I’m nearly so selfless.”

“Oh, I think when it comes down to it,” she says happily, lifting her tiny feet up and tucking them beneath her, “you’d make the same call. I’m a very good judge of character. I can tell.”

I sigh, glancing over at Anton for some support in my conception of myself as more selfish and self-serving than that, but he just smirks at me and nods, letting me know that he’s of the same opinion.

“Please,” I mutter, blushing a little, “you’ve both known me less than a day. You can’t possibly know the dark depths to which my soul descends.”

Laila laughs, pretty and tinkling. “Well, until they make themselves known, I’ll have faith.”

“So,” Anton says, his voice soft and considering. When I turn to him, I find his eyes far off, his expression thoughtful. “These Games have been in the works for like a thousand years? That’s insane. Does that mean Orion is like…stupid old? With a very good skin care routine?”

“No, he’s just twenty-four,” Laila says with a shrug. “But the prophecy existed before he was born. He was foretold.”

“Another prophecy?” I ask, sitting forward, intrigued.

“How…how do you not know about any of this?” Laila asks, frowning between the pair of us. “I mean, you’re here, you clearly agreed to play in the Games. Didn’t you and your family ask about any of this in their negotiation to have you enrolled as a Contestant?”

“Negotiation!?” I sputter. “Nobody…negotiated!”

“Well, what did you get?” she asks, looking at me with wide eyes.

“Get?”

“Yeah,” she says slowly, staring at me with a little worry. “I mean, my price was extreme and sacrifice the wish at the end, but most of these other girls’ families got like… riches? Blessings? Magical abilities? What did…yours get?”

I scowl, sitting back in my chair and looking into the distance.

Anton laughs, a bit wicked, reveling in my disgrace. “I take that to mean that Junie here got…zip.”

“What!?” Laila gasps.

“Oh, shut up,” I sigh, scowling at both of them. “It was a spur of the moment thing! I wanted the wish at the end!”

“Oh, Juniper,” Laila says, tilting her head sympathetically at me. “That was…a bad deal.”

“Yeah, that’s clear now,” I mutter, displeased as hell with myself but considering that it was really my only choice. If my family had been involved they’d have laughed Nic and his offer out the door. Dad might even have killed him, if it were possible to do so before Nic vanished off. There’s no way in hell that the Sinclair family would ever, ever bargain away one of their daughters, no matter what the dowry.

I sigh, missing them very much suddenly. Wishing I had my dad’s council, my mom’s warm support. Even stupid idiot Mark, who is annoying but occasionally makes me laugh.

“Okay, Juniper’s terrible negotiation skills aside,” Anton says, ignoring the murderous glare I send his way and concentrating on Laila, “what the hell is this Games prophecy?”

“Oh!” she says, sitting up straight and perky, laughing a little that we got so sidetracked.

I don’t miss that Anton’s lips twitch at Laila’s change in posture, her pretty smile, that his eyes flash over her for just an instant before returning to her face. In my soul, my wolf’s fangs flash in response. I growl at my wolf, annoyed, and she sighs, resting her chin back down on her paws.

“Well,” Laila continues, nodding to me, “even if they didn’t tell you, it’s so strange that you don’t know. Everyone in my world knows this story – we hear it as a story in our cradles.”

I sip at my coffee, quietly settling into my chair in anticipation of a good tale, and Anton likewise settles next to me.

“Thousands of years ago,” Laila says, conjuring a pen and paper from thin air, “the God of Death and the Goddess of Life won a great victory against their father, the God of Darkness. They wrenched half of the planet away and made it their own Kingdom, the Underworld.”

Laila draws a circle on the paper to represent a planet and draws a line clean through it. “This is the Underworld,” she continues, tapping her pen on one of the hemispheres and then gesturing to the wasteland around us to indicate that they’re the same. “But beneath it is the Deadlands.”

Inside the little hemisphere that Laila has indicated is the Underworld, she draws a smaller circle, just below the surface.

“The Deadlands,” she says, tapping this in turn. “Is where all the souls of the dead are kept – from all worlds – and the God of Death holds supremacy over that while the Goddess of Life mostly runs this upper world, though they both live here and Death is technically King of both.”

“The Deadlands,” I murmur, my wolf perking up in my soul. I immediately think of Blythe – because that’s where he’d be, right? If he’s dead? “If they’re…beneath? How does one get there?”

“Through that door,” Laila says, blinking innocently at me. “In the Palace – that black one, in the pit that we saw last night. It’s the only entrance. Well, except through the River of Souls, but that’s more of like…a metaphor? I think?”

“Yeah, let’s move on from that,” Anton says, shuddering a little. I frown at him, wondering what made him do that. “How does the story end?”

“Well, even as he lost the war,” Laila continues, her voice low and melodious, “the God of Darkness cursed his progeny so that he could eventually regain control of the entire planet. He made it so that any children born to Death or Life had only until the time of the first three-moon eclipse of their lifetime to ascend the throne with their mate at their side.” She gestures now to the three moons visible in the sky above us, each quite far apart. “And if they’re not, everything Life and Death won in the war will be returned.”

“And let me guess,” Anton says, his voice flat. “Orion was born, triggering the start of the curse. And that eclipse happens in about…twenty weeks?”

“Twenty-one,” Laila says, turning a smile on him like she thinks he’s quite clever. “The God of Death wanted Orion to have at least a little time for a honeymoon before he takes over the responsibilities of ruling the Underworld and the Deadlands both.”

“Well, why is Orion even playing at any of this?” I sigh, leaning back in my chair and crossing my arms, frustrated. “Why doesn’t he just…let it go back to the God of Darkness and be done with it? Just walk the hell away? That’s what I would do.”

“Oh no,” Laila says, shaking her head at me with wide, frightened eyes. “No, Juniper – if that happens…all is lost.”