Page 162 of A Game of Monsters

“I’m capable of changing myself,” I said, snatching the towel, hands shaking. “You don’t need to treat me like a baby needing coddling.”

“I can speak for us both when I say that we are just wanting to take things slow, you nearly–”

“I’m alive, Duncan.” In turn, I looked them both dead in the eyes. “Can’t you see? My body is healing with every passing minute, and yet you still treat me like broken glass. But I can see in the way you look at me that you know. We all know what is happening, and yet it has not been mentioned.”

How dare I feel so displeased that they kept secrets from me, when I was keeping the biggest secret possible. Perhaps it was my own lies that made me distrustful. But I also recognised my intuition, and there was no denying something was wrong.

“We can talk about it on the journey back to Icethorn,” Duncan persisted, dismissing me.

Erix’s jaw flexed, the muscles feathering in his cheeks. I locked eyes with him – hating myself for using his weakness against him. But needs must.

Iwas his weakness.

“I. Am. Alive.” I forced each word out, really hammering the truth home. “Whatever is happening, it is time to face it.Please. No more secrets, if anything will kill me it will be that.”

It was my pleading that made Erix wince.

Duncan sagged, wings damp from the moisture-heavy air. “Fine. We can talk.”

“Thereisa problem,” Erix said next, eyes fighting to glance out the window. “One that has not yet been dealt with, but something that we are constantly working at resolving.”

“We?” I replied. “We are doing nothing but playing house, Erix. Who is we?”

“The realms,” he said, chin jutting out, gaze hardening. “Fey, humans. Icethorn has become a haven for human refugees, just as you wanted. Our numbers, alongside Duncan’s Faithful.”

My skin shivered at his words, the discomfort working down to my bones. “Is it the Fallen who persist as a problem?”

“No,” Duncan answered, hesitantly. “Rafaela and the Faithful are currently passing judgement on the Fallen who survived. They will be given an opportunity to change their ways, and if not, they’ll be reunited with the Creator.”

His answer was rehearsed. As if he’d stood before a mirror and practiced. I could tell from how quickly he replied, and how precise his words were.

“And you are sure Cassial is dead?” I had asked the question, in a variety of ways, about six times since I’d come around from Seraphine’s poison.

“He is,” Duncan glowered, fists squeezing the sponge so tight that water spilled over his white knuckles. “I made sure of it.”

Then where was the celebration? The joy? If this was the tomorrow we fought hard for, it felt as though I was still hanging from tenterhooks, struggling for sense like a fish out of water.

Erix looked down to his hands, picking at the skin around slightly pointed nails.

I reached over and laid a hand on his, stopping him before he broke skin. “This isn’t the tomorrow we wanted together. So, tell me what we have to do to ensure it.”

“You have faced enough, little bird.” Erix dropped my gaze, pinching his eyes closed.

“Erix is right,” Duncan added. “We hesitate to tell you because we know what you will do.”

I snapped my head between them, frustration boiling hotter than ever before.

Had they worked out that I still had a scrap of Duwar in me? Was this why they kept me at a distance, keeping the truth from me? Or did they believe I was just too broken to handle what they had to say?

Erix took a hulking breath, lips parting, readying himself to speak. But he was interrupted by a thunderous knock on my home’s front door. For a split second I was transported to another time, when it was my father knocking on the door to wake me if I’d overslept.

Duncan peered to the hallway beyond the cramped bathroom. “We really should get you changed, darling. Our convoy to Wychwood has arrived.”

The water sloshed as he made a move to lift me out of it, but I held firm. As my anger spiked, so did Duwar. I gasped, having to choke back the power or it would threaten to reveal my secrets. Darkness and light thrashed like dancing waves behind my closed eyes, so potent I could almost taste the potential on my tongue.

Then a shout sounded from the door downstairs. “Duncan, Erix – we need to leave.Now. And I will not hear your refusal otherwise I will personally drag you out of this house by the short and fucking curlies.”

Althea. I’d recognise her voice in any life, in any time. Even spoiled with panic and urgency, there was a joy in hearing her, when there had been a time I believed it was never possible.

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