Folk from Tír fo Thuinn and Tuatha followed suit, keeping with their own. They sat in hushed circles and glared at each other.
In the rafters, a crow cawed, and I glanced up. Morgan’s bird sat on a beam, training a black-eyed gaze on everyone.
Culann of Uladh stood, straight and proud, surveying the hall. He was alone, except for Morgan, and watched Folk as closely as the crow.
So, he’d survived today, but the competitor pool had thinned quite a bit. Now, there were empty chairs where, yesterday, it had been standing room only.
We didn’t linger for long. The princes went to the front of the room, greeting the competitors with somber head nods and handshakes before leaving.
I trailed behind them, feet dragging on the flagstones. All I wanted to do was sleep. While walking wasn’t the most exhausting activity, watching Folk die was.
Flynn and Killian lingered in Ronan’s room while I curled up on a window seat. I tucked my legs under me, propped my head on a pillow, and listened with one ear to the princes’ deep voices. Their conversation drifted in and out of my awareness as the light dimmed and, finally, I fell asleep.
“If I tell you to stay behind again, I want you to listen,” Ronan growled in a low, serious voice.
We stood in the courtyard, Killian on the dais as the smoke curled toward the sky. This day began the same way yesterday had.
The smoke ignited, and a piece of parchment floated into Killian’s hand.
I watched the sky nervously, and I couldn’t help but notice many of the other competitors did too. The only thing flying around, however, was Morgan’s crow.
I hoped it found a safe place to perch away from hungry creatures.
My gaze drifted back to Killian, who read the parchment silently before speaking aloud. “Today, our challenge is to face our fears.”
Something happened the moment he spoke. One by one, competitors winked out of existence like candles being blown out.
“Get to Killian,” Ronan called to Flynn, even as he exploded into motion.
I dashed behind them, struggling to keep up with their pace. They leapt onto the dais, but just as their outstretched hands would have touched their brother, they disappeared.
With more athleticism than I’d ever shown, I scrambled onto the dais and grabbed Killian’s boot.
In the blink of an eye, the courtyard was gone.
Releasing Killian, I stood, but it was as if he hadn’t felt me at all. He studied our surroundings, gaze wide.
This place was unfamiliar to me.
“Killian?”
He didn’t respond, and I wasn’t sure if, because of the nature of the competition, he couldn’t hear me.
I tried again. “Killian? Can you hear me?”
Nothing. He moved in a circle, his face slowly bleaching of color.
The sound of frogs and crickets filled the air, and the ground was spongey beneath my feet. I took a step, and the muck sucked at my shoes. Cattails grew high, and as I followed Killian, the ground turned from wet to boggy.
The smell changed, too, stinking a little of dead fish. With each step, the call of frogs and crickets died away, replaced with something else—a high, long note.
A wail.
Covering his ears with his hands, he stopped.
“I’m right here.” I touched his shoulder, but I might as well have been a ghost. He couldn’t hear me.
Couldn’t see me.
Couldn’t feel me.
He was—as far as he knew—utterly alone.
The wail increased, along with the smell, growing in volume and intensity.
And I could do nothing. It was hell—standing here, watching him suffer. I walked around him, faced him, and then, when he shut his eyes, stood on my tiptoes. Maybe he couldn't see me, but that didn’t necessarily mean I couldn’t protect him. I reached for a cattail, gripped it, and plucked it from the ground. I considered waving it in front of Killian, like, “Yoo-hoo! Here I am!”
Or I could write in the muck. Maybe I could use rocks to spell something out…
I spun, searching for anything I could use to show him he wasn’t alone, but he suddenly cried out, “Father!” and sprinted away.
I barely made out his voice over the sound of the wail.
In the distance, I caught a flash of someone with broad shoulders and gray hair. It did look like the king, but it was only his back. He disappeared through the marsh grass and cattails, Killian hot on his tail.
I took one step and sank, knee deep, into mud. Falling forward, I caught myself on my hands, but the earth seemed to reach up and grab my