Page 26 of Courting War
There was no way Cecile could know the priestess. It didn’t make sense.
He rubbed his finger along his carving again before sliding it into his pocket and walking over to Emmett, who sat on a comfortable lounge with four others beside the cozy fireplace.
Before Kellyn could open his mouth, a tall blond with a face of scars said, “These seats are taken.” The Simark Champion.
Kellyn’s brow furrowed. “Emmett, I was wondering if we could speak about—”
“—No,” Emmett said.
The competitors flanking Emmett wore expressions ranging from shock to utter elation. The latter belonged solely to the Simark boy.
Emmett was hurt. His pride and honor meant everything to him, but Kellyn never imagined it might lead to this—lead to total abandonment.
Kellyn’s heart beat in his throat, and his lungs tensed. Betrayal and sorrow churned between the two boys, and he didn’t know how to fix it.
“You should probably move on and infect someone else with your presence.” The Simark boy smiled, immensely pleased with his cruelty.
Kellyn’s shoulder blades drew together.
“I don’t understand. What is going on,” breathed a curvy redhead hailing from Rougeland, her eyes glancing between Kellyn, Emmett, and the Simark lad.
A boy with russet-brown skin and clever eyes leaned over to her and whispered loud enough for the entire room to hear, “He’s the Theoden Champion. They are cursed, and whoever aids them in the games will die alongside them.”
“So they’re all bad luck?” the redhead asked.
Emmett’s eyes twitched at this, his lips drawing into a flat line. “Bad luck and a bad friend.”
A sharp pain surged through Kellyn’s chest, the words hitting like a physical blow. “I shall take my leave.” Kellyn bowed respectfully, trying to hold onto his honor and dignity, all the while screaming on the inside. He walked away, posture regal as he headed up the stairs to the Theoden Suite.
He entered a modest chamber. A four-poster bed was draped in blood-red curtains with embroidered ravens, and over the bed hung a sign that read,Courtesy of the Goddess of Love. The only other piece of furniture in the room was a wardrobe with raven heads as handles. A mirror hung on the wall, and in the corner was a hearth. Three sculptures stood at attention, their eyes striking and animated—almost as if they were watching. A shiver coursed through Kellyn’s legs as he inspected them. The statuesslowly moved. One—a peacock—shone blue with the jubilance of the moon. The second, a cat, had midnight black hair which rippled like skipping stones on a lily pond. And the third ruffled its raven wings.
A keen part of Kellyn understood these statues meant something.
They were important.
He didn’t know why, but he didn’t have the time to unravel that riddle. First, he must focus on the puzzle etched into his arm.
First, he needed to read.
Indeed, a nightmarish task.
After what felt like an eternity of squinting his eyes, clumping letters together, and trying to decipher them, Kellyn finally made out the whole thing … mostly accurate. It wasn’t that he was incapable of reading. Rather it was incredibly hard, and given enough time and less heightened emotions, he could eventually read the words.
Welcome, Kellyn, to your fate
A lesson to learn, and you’re the bait
Temptation strikes at apathy’s curse
Soon to discover what it’s worth.
For this is your first riddle:
I consume shadows
And never speak a word
But you cannot miss my presence, dear lord
