Dance of Fate

Chapter Nine

-Under the Mountain-

The next few weeks went by in the blink of an eye and yet impossibly slowly. I found myself calculating and overthinking every single thing I did, trying to find the most subtle ways to help Feyre without anyone noticing.

I knew Rhys was doing the same, though certainly not as subtly. From keeping the other faeries from hurting her- which I was partly responsible for too- to making her forget every night. He was doing more than I was, honestly. At least I kept Amarantha busy, entertaining her by torturing others who actually deserved it.

But neither me or Rhys could stop the second task from coming. I took my usual place beside Amarantha's throne, Rhys beside me. The Attor appeared clenching Feyre, who looked much worse than I has last seen her.

"Well Feyre, your second trial has come." Amarantha smiled. Feyre swallowed, her face paling. "Have you solved my riddle yet?" The girl didn't respond, her
eyes fixed on the floor. "Too bad." Amarantha sighed.

"But I'm feeling generous tonight. How about a little practice?" Amarantha purred. Feyre's eyes fell on Tamlin, and his fell on hers. The whole cavern was silent as they stared at each other. I looked away, haunted by the memory of what it was like to not be able to tell him I loved him until it was too late.

"Begin." Amarantha commanded. The stones beneath Feyre began to shiver, then to sink into a pit, to where Lucien was chained to the center of the floor.

"Here, Feyre darling, you shall find your task. Simply answer the question by selecting the correct lever, and you'll win. Select the wrong one to your doom. As there are only three options, I think I gave you an unfair advantage." She snapped her fingers, and something metallic groaned. "That is," she added, "if you can solve the puzzle in time."

Giant, boiling spikes began to lower themselves onto both Feyre and Lucien as the girl frantically scanned over the words. Her face was the picture of urgency and confusion almost like- almost like she didn't know what they said.

"Something wrong?" Amarantha teased. Feyre's chest was violently rising and falling, her entire body trembling. "Answer it!" Lucien screamed at her, his entire body now slicked with sweat.

"Feyre!" Lucien kept screaming. I unconsciously began to tap my foot, sweat that had nothing to do with the heat gathering on the back of my neck. "Just pick one!" Lucien screamed. Multiple people on the crowd laughed- though a few of them found their mouths to suddenly fall shut with an unknown force. They tried to groan, but I looked once in their direction and they fell silent, for once to their own will.

Feyre finally reached for a lever, the second one- the wrong one. I was too late- even if I invaded her mind and made her pick the correct one, it would be too obvious-

But before I could do anything, Feyre pulled her hand back, clenching it slightly- her hand that was covered in the marks of the Night Court.

Feyre's hand fell on the third lever, and she pulled. The spikes stopped, only inches away from Lucien, and from her. I subtly shifted my eyes to Rhysand, trying to mask my anger and fear.

But by the way his face looked carefully bored, and by the way Feyre straightened as the platform raised her up, my suspicions were confirmed.

The girl stared Amarantha down, her lip trembling slightly. She finally turned on her heel, walking towards the door until guards grabbed her and forced her out of the chamber.