I chuckle, but something weighs on my mind. “Hey, Mack. I thought the raverous snake was only found in a tiny swamp in the Spring Court?”
I clearly remember reading how rare the raverous snake is, their white venom harvested for powerful spells. My textbook said the only surviving wild snakes were in the northern region of the Spring Court.
Mack worries her bottom lip between her teeth. “It does seem strange.”
Evelyn gives a bored sigh. “Who cares? They obviously brought them in for the contest. Or maybe the snakes migrated.”
But I can’t get the thought out of my mind, and when my name is called, I think I’ve puzzled it out. Still, I don’t share my suspicions with the others as I peer into the chest. The chest has been spelled to have room for hundreds of weapons and items, each one visible when I look inside.
But, if I’m right about the snake, only one weapon will work. It’s hard to breathe as I reach for the small golden flute, nearly lost among the glint of steel blades.
If I’m wrong, the prince and I are totally screwed.
The moment the flute leaves the chest, Inara, who stands nearby with Bane and Reina, lets out a tittering laugh. “Someone tell her that’s a Leonidas flute; it only works on warm-blooded beasts like wolves.”
“Or lions,” I mutter, grabbing my last two items: a map, and a vial for the venom.
Reina sees the map clutched in my fingers and shakes her head. “A map? Everyone knows the raverous snake loves water, and we’re going to a swamp. Water will be everywhere.”
Mack is in line a few people down, and she sends me a supportive thumbs up. I can’t tell if she has the same thought I do, or is just being a good bestie, but I don’t have time to talk to her before Spreewell shoos me toward my keeper.
I find the prince waiting for me with a group of Unseelie Evermore. He lifts his eyebrows at my choice. “A flute? Are we going to kill the snake with terrible music?”
Waves of heat crash over me as I see bits of the taco filling I dumped on him still cresting his shoulders. But he hasn’t killed me yet, so that’s progress, right? Unfortunately, he now smells like a friggin’ taco, making him even more irresistible.
It takes all my willpower not to lean close and sniff him.
Eclipsa frowns at my choices. She herself holds a little cage with a gray rat inside. “What will you lure the snake with?”
I shrug. “Maybe they like tacos too.”
The prince frowns and picks at a shred of cheese on his lapel.
When all of the pairs have their weapons, we line up. The professors walk down the line, opening portals for every pair.
Spreewell stops in front of the prince and I, his dark purple cloak bright against the white snow. “Eros sanctum.”
At his words, a dark spot opens. The spot is pea-sized, at first, but quickly grows to the size of a basketball. A chair. When it’s big enough to accommodate a large person, Spreewell motions us toward the portal.
I peer through the rippling veil to the world on the other side. Trees so tall they block the sun sprout from mossy, wet earth. Beyond, waterfalls cascade over cliffs. Warm, moist air scented with pine and stagnant water wash over my cheeks.
This is really happening. No matter how normal portals seem to the Fae, I’ll never get used to them. Never.
The prince smiles at me. “After you, Princess.”
39
The second I lunge through the portal, a wet blanket of humidity slaps me in the face. My boots sink up to the top laces in green mud. Ugh. Pocketing the flute, I pull out the map and try to get my bearings as the prince appears.
His nose crinkles at the heat, and then he glowers at me as if I’m the cause of the unbearable weather. “I hate to admit it, but Reina was right. We don’t need a map. We can walk ten feet in any direction and find swamp. And where there’s water, there’s raverous snakes.”
“Hmm, yeah. About that.” I glance up from my map. “We’re not looking for a raverous snake.”
He peers at me through his dark blue lashes. “No?”
“Nope.” I have what I’m looking for so I fold the map, shove it into the back pocket of my jeans, and take off toward the cliffs in the distance. Ferns slap against my thighs, the mud squelching beneath my boots. Tiny creatures similar to sprites but smaller flutter up from the dense foliage. The hum of mosquitoes three times the normal size stirs the air.
Of course this place would have smaller sprites and bigger mosquitoes.
The prince catches up to me. “Care to share this plan of yours, Princess?”
I flash a mischievous grin. Let him see how it feels to have no idea what’s going on for a change.
I duck beneath a curtain of hanging moss and trudge straight through a shallow swamp, water sloshing around my boots. A sulfurous, muddy smell clogs my nose. Green algae and lily pads float on the surface of the brackish water.
Flashes of movement catch my eye below.
He grabs my arm, the cold from his fingers breaching the thin fabric of my sweater. A zip of electricity shoots through my flesh, like static electricity but more powerful. “You are aware there are creatures in these woods who would love to feast on a human?”
Yanking my arm away, I push forward, boots splashing loudly.
“Yes, splash,” he mutters. “Maybe they’ll hear you. Good plan.”
“Afraid, Prince?”
“Afraid, no. Why would I be? This swamp only hosts at least ninety-nine things that can kill you, yet we’re armed with a . . . flute.”
When he puts it that way . . .
Yep, this place sucks.
I quicken my pace. The weight of his dark gaze falls heavy over my back, but he follows quietly. When we get to the first waterfall, I pull out my map again. Satisfied, I nod to a high cluster of mountainous ridges in front of us. They’re dark gray quartz, nearly black, spotted with trees and thorny bushes.
The climb to the top is a lesson in pain. By the time I scramble over the side, panting, sweat burns my eyeballs and pastes my shirt to my back.
The prince waits for me on a rock, his entire beautiful body stretched out as he lazily swats at two persistent mosquitoes the size of apples.
“You know,” he says with a dark grin. “If your plan is to throw me off the cliff, there’s a problem.”
“What’s that?”
“I can fly.”
Ignoring the urge to lie face down on the rocky ground, I struggle to my feet. “Holy Fae ears, Prince. Was that a . . . joke?”
“I do make them, on occasion.”
“What, in between being a giant asshole?”
His jaw clenches. “Okay, I deserve that.”
“No, you deserve being thrown off a mountain naked into a swarm of fire ants.”
He flicks up an eyebrow. “Well that’s mildly worse than being bathed in taco innards.”
“Is that another joke?” I say. “Two jokes in a day. Someone call a healer, there’s something wrong with you.”
Turning my back on him, I take stock of our position. We’re on a large, flat area of the ridge overlooking the swamps below, which from here look like a blanket of bushy green treetops. Above us, waterfalls feed into a small basin of clear blue water, their spray forming countless mini rainbows. Without the cover of trees, the sun’s glare scorches our skin.