Chapter 82

Orion snarls, more wolfish than he usually is, as we all appear in his living room suite and he hurls the stack of scrolls onto his coffee table. “I don’t get it!”

He storms away to the very small marble bar built into the corner of the room and begins to pour himself a big glass of whiskey as Laila fidgets, looking anxiously at the scrolls.

“Oh, go ahead,” I whisper to her, giving her a nudge with my elbow.

With a tiny squeak Laila goes to her knees and begins to pick up the scrolls that fell to the floor, stacking them nice and neat on the table, just how she likes them.

“What don’t you get?” Anton asks, his hands in his pockets as he moves towards Orion. I move with him, curious about the answer.

“Besides all of it?” Orion growls, taking a long drink of whiskey and then pouring himself some more. “Anything that’s written in any of those scrolls, or the actions of anyone in my family, or what the hell is going on with any of this!?”

“All right, so, everything is a great mystery,” Anton says, keeping his cool and glancing back at the scrolls. “But hey, we know more than we knew yesterday. Or even this morning.”

“Yeah, but now Juniper’s ranked amongst the Bottom even though she’s my prophesied bride,” Orion snarls, leaning hard against the bar. “And even if we do figure out any of the prophecy besides what we already know – we’ve only got two weeks to make a move against Darkness and take the throne!”

“Or else no one ever gets reincarnated ever again and everyone just becomes weird Darkness magical soul fuel,” I say on a sigh, stepping close to the bar and snatching the glass of whiskey out of Orion’s hand. As I take my own long sip he smirks at me and just takes down another glass, pouring himself another.

“All right, let’s not get defeatist,” Laila calls from her spot on the floor, patting the table in a quiet demand for us all to join her. “Bring me one of those drinks and let’s get our thoughts together.”

“Nice to have an organized member of the troupe,” I say, looking up at Anton as Orion pours yet another drink and we all troop over to the coffee table. “What do you think – shall we bring her home for Mark?”

Anton grins at me. “Don’t you not like Mark?”

“Yes, but I like Laila a lot,” I say, settling on the floor. “So maybe she can balance him out, make him tolerable.” I pat the carpet next to me in invitation and Anton laughs as he takes that spot.

“All right,” Laila says, taking her drink from Orion as he settles in too. “So, what do we know, and what do we need to know?”

“We know that the alignment and the eclipse are coming much sooner than we thought,” Orion murmurs, rubbing his eyes with one hand, exhausted and frustrated. “And that either my dad doesn’t know, or he’s…somehow in collusion with Darkness so that I don’t take the throne.”

“Why would he do that?” I ask, leaning back on one hand while I sip from my tumbler. “He loses everything too if you fail to take the throne, doesn’t he?”

“I don’t know any more,” Orion grumbles. “I feel like I don’t know…anything.”

“I think it’s a good point,” Anton says, nodding and looking sympathetically at our friend. “Everything we know about this entire Competition is hearsay – all the rules, all the stakes. We’re sort of flying blind.”

“Well, we do know that there are prophecies,” Laila says, patting her neat little pile of scrolls with a fond hand. I smile at her, thinking she’d make a wonderful librarian in our world. “So something is happening at the alignment. Something big.”

“Yes,” Orion says, finally dropping his hand from his face and leaning back on his palms, a bit defeated. “But…who the hell knows what. I’m sorry, guys,” he says, lifting his eyes and looking around at the three of us with a grimace. “I feel so foolish. But I’m also getting the impression that there is much more at play than the black-and-white fulfillment of the prophecy. If Darkness is getting involved, interfering with my father’s priests’ minds and changing the timelines…then I think we are playing a much larger and more complicated game than we thought we were.”

“And also,” Laila says, looking at Orion with a great deal of sympathy, “if your father is keeping things from you and making decisions against your express desires…it’s worth considering that he’s not fully on your side either. He may be keeping something from you as well.”

My stomach sinks at the realization that they’re right. I take a long sip of my whiskey, my stomach turning with dread.

“So, we know that it’s a bigger game, and we know that there are prophecies, but that some can’t be trusted,” Anton says, slow and thoughtful before he turns his gaze to me. “We also know that Juniper is involved.”

“What!?” I snap, sitting up straight and glaring at him. “We so do not!”

“Oh, I think we got our confirmation tonight, June,” Anton says, giving me a sad little half-smile as he lifts a hand and runs it over my hair. “Little Miss Hair Like Sun Veiled in Darkness. Little Miss Countermeasure.”

I scowl and swat at his hand.

“He’s right,” Orion says, an apologetic grimace on his lips as I turn to him in surprise. “I think you proved it when you brought him back from whatever state of confusion he was in, June – broke the curse or whatever. You were the countermeasure – the last magic he could wield as Darkness’s memory curse took hold of him.”

“Oh, that’s such nonsense,” I scowl, glaring around at everyone, desperately not wanting it to be true. “It was just chance –“

“And the rain?” Orion asks, raising an eyebrow at me.

I turn back to him, my mouth still open, confused.

“When you played the piano on the roof, and it poured? That was prophesied too, Juniper – that’s one of the clearer ones that everyone knows. That the Heir’s Bride – the future Queen – would bring the first rain in centuries. That she would make flowers grow.”

“You did that?” Laila asks, looking at me with wide eyes.

“One!” I snap, putting up one finger. “There were no flowers. And two! I didn’t do that! I can’t make it rain!”

“June you totally did it,” Anton says, leaning back on his hands and smiling softly at me. I scowl at him, ready to protest, but he doesn’t let me. “The damn raindrops were falling in tune with what you were playing, Juniper. It was…incredible. There’s no doubt in my mind that you called up that storm.”

I slump a little in shock because…no. There’s no way, right? “That was just chance,” I whisper.

“It rained for the first time in hundreds of years at the same moment that you appeared on the roof and conjured up a piano, June,” Orion says, very soft. “I don’t…think there’s a lot of chance in that.”

I frown at him. “Why didn’t you tell me!?”

He shrugs. “Because I figured you were going to react like this. Plus, my dad doesn’t buy it – said it wasn’t definitive enough proof that you’re my mate.”

“So…are you going to marry Juniper?” Laila asks, staring at Orion in awe.

He blushes, looking down at the table. “I mean…”

My mouth falls open as my own cheeks flush. Seriously!? Is this how my mate is decided, sitting around a coffee table and putting the pieces of prophecy together!? I snarl, hating it – hating it so much –

“If she does,” Anton asks, his voice steadier than mine. “Does that mean Laila has to die?”

Laila gasps, goes pale, and slaps her hands over her mouth.

“No,” I snarl, vivid and pissed off. “I’m not letting that happen.”

Orion sighs and rests his forehead in his hand, the picture of dejection. “The nineteen Candidates are supposed to die before the Queen takes the throne.”

“Why!?” I spit out, appalled. Does this mean we’re going to see sixteen more deaths in the next two weeks? I feel ill at the thought.

“They’re meant to function as her handmaids,” Orion murmurs, shaking his head. “In death.”

“I already have one of those!” I shout, pointing an angry finger at Anton. “And one is enough!”

“Thank you,” Anton murmurs, preening, clearly seeing more humor in this than me.

“No!” I snap, glaring around at everyone, my word so definite that Orion looks up at me in surprise. “Look, I’m not settling for any of this, okay? If we’ve learned anything tonight it’s that we need way more information and that what we think we know is flawed. So. Let’s not get our mind and our hearts set on any outcome. Especially one in which Laila is dead.”

I look over at her, my face cold, letting her know that my grim determination to keep her alive is very real. Slowly she nods, putting her faith in me.

“Agreed?” I snarl, looking over at Orion first. He sighs and then nods too, looking down at his lap like he’s not sure if he can keep that promise – that everything is just…so far beyond our control.

I snap my hands to Anton, who is already looking at me. “Hey, I’m already on board,” he says, putting a hand out towards me. “I’m always on team ‘fuck the prophecy.’ The question is, what do we do next?”

“Next, we drink,” Orion says, getting to his feet in one powerful move and striding for the bar for a refill. “And then tomorrow we go to the Deadlands to find my prophetic fiancé’s other fiancé. And see what the hell he has to say.”

I stare over at Orion with my mouth open even as Anton breaks into a laugh and shouts his agreement with the plan.

Because how? How can this be a true priority, in the midst of all of this chaos?