front of me, waving in a warm breeze. Wildflowers grew all around me, shades of yellow and purple.
I stood, hovering on the edge of the glade, when a form emerged from the forest on the other end, followed soon after by three Folk.
He was too far away for me to recognize, but as he plodded through the grass, his features came into focus.
Anlon.
His face was red, as if he’d overexerted himself, and he held his sword ready.
The men behind him wore matching uniforms. Their expressions were also the same. Wide, worried eyes swept over the meadow or lifted toward the sky, as if expecting something to attack suddenly.
They were headed right toward me, and I thanked whatever powers brought them here. I didn’t have to search anymore—they’d come to me.
A gust of air hit me, causing me to stumble backward. The ground shook, and I lost my balance, falling on my butt.
The grass obscured my view, but I could hear the men and Anlon yelling. Someone flew by me, running so fast he was nothing but a streak of blue uniform.
“We give you the choice we give all competitors.” Something spoke, its voice deep and resonant. “Do you wish to forfeit, or do you wish to continue?”
“Anlon.” A worried voice traveled across the grass toward me. I slowly lifted my head to see what had happened.
In the center of the meadow sat a Riddle-Maker. She rested on her haunches the same way a cat might pretend to rest as a mouse crept by. Her wings were folded neatly at her sides, and her tail—I hadn’t even realized they had tails—whipped behind her before curling around her talons.
Even sitting, she was as tall as a tree. Flying over our heads, I’d estimated their size to be like that of a horse, but they were much, much bigger.
I’d never seen a dragon, but I imagined this creature could rival it.
As she spoke, her lips revealed sharp, white teeth with long, curved canines.
Forfeit. My heart pounded in my chest so hard I was afraid she’d hear it. Forfeit, Anlon, and live.
Somewhere out in Tuatha, Killian, Ronan, and Flynn were facing similar creatures. Ones that would tear them to pieces.
“I choose to proceed.” Anlon’s voice shook.
“If you answer incorrectly, it will mean your death.” Another out.
Take it, Anlon.
“No. I am meant to be king of Tuatha.” The shaking disappeared, replaced with haughty resolve. “I will solve your riddle.”
The Riddle-Maker continued without pause. “I have cities, but no houses. I have mountains, but no trees. I have rivers, but no fish. What am I?”
I have cities, but no houses. I have mountains…I had no idea. What sort of cities didn’t have houses? Maybe this had to do with the mortal world? People lived in apartments… No. I was being too literal.
I knelt, peering nervously at the two men who were left and Anlon. He stood for a moment and then began to pace.
I didn’t even like him, but I was rooting for him. Figure it out. The image of the other competitor, his body torn and bleeding, was burned into my brain.
One of the men stepped forward, stopping him, and whispered into his ear. Anlon’s face cleared, and he smiled.
Thank the gods.
Even if he was a mean little brat, I didn’t want to watch him die.
“The mortal world,” he answered, voice clear and strong. He placed his hands on his hips, staring up at the expressionless face of the Riddle-Maker.
The tip of her tail lifted and flicked at the ground.
No. That answer wasn’t right. The mortal world had all those things. Houses. Trees. Fish.
Striking like a snake, the Riddle-Maker snapped, and the top half of Anlon disappeared.
I slapped my hand over my mouth to smother my scream. The Riddle-Maker stretched out her wings, propelling them toward the ground. The wind generated from them had the force of a hurricane. I fell backward as the field was covered in shadow.
The men were screaming so loudly I could hear them over the wind. Overhead, the creature flew away. One man was clutched in her talons, his body limp, and in the other, she held Anlon.
Blood flowed from his body, spraying me as she went by.
I was going to be sick.
A portal suddenly opened next to me and Ronan appeared. His hair was mussed and his face flushed. Warmth burst over my body as he traded my invisibility for a regular glamour and grabbed my hand. “I got you, little one.”
Imogen
Before I could even say his name, Ronan