All the Stars and Teeth(83)

My weapon can’t help us here. Its poison is too powerful to waste on naughty trees. A breeze shifts through the branches and they rustle, as if laughing at me.

“I’m trying to help you,” I growl at the island, tripping over dead bramble and broken twigs. The trees here are the same white birch as the ones from Zale’s camp, but they’re thinner. Weaker, and normal.

Vataea trails carefully behind me, mimicking my movements to avoid injury while Ferrick grimaces and grunts beside me, smacking away sharp branches.

“Ferrick, Amora, wait—”

I trip on soot when I turn toward Vataea’s voice, barely able to catch myself on a stump.

In front of me, a small black fox pokes its head out from behind one of the trees. It’s the first sign of life I’ve seen on this side of the island since we arrived in the woods probably an hour ago. I still, watching as the creature slowly eases out from behind the thin tree, its curious golden eyes never wavering from mine. Shadows fan out around its feet and wrap around the beast. I draw a step back when I see them, breath catching in my throat.

“Bastian?” I ask, daring to look away long enough to check over my shoulders. “Vataea?”

But no one’s there.

I stumble back as the space around me stretches farther into darkness, dragging me with it. The trees are at least a mile away, now. Figures weave in and out of them, calling my name.

But the voices are a warped echo that alert the hairs on my neck and force my breaths to come in gasps.

“Amoraaa…” they call, both a whisper and a shout. “Amoraaa?”

I twist so I’m on my knees and try to drag my shaking body back to a stand. But the moment I’m back on my feet, I wish the earth would have swallowed me whole just as it did the trees.

The fox looms over me, massive on its hind legs. Its face is sharp and pointed, black ears poking out from the hood of a sapphire cape. Its golden eyes rove my body, and when they settle on my face again, a jagged row of teeth gleams at me.

“Are you lost?” the fox asks, its breath foul as it heats my cheeks. “Why don’t I help you find your way?”

It leaps into the air, and though every part of me knows I should move, I only watch as the fox twists its body. Its mouth stretches. Stretches. Stretches.

And it swallows me whole.

The darkness morphs into blinding white light as I jerk to my feet, gasping desperately for air.

No longer am I surrounded by trees; there’s nothing but the beautiful red sand of Arida, and a figure waiting for me on the beach.

Though his back is turned to me, I recognize Father by his crown—the skull of a legendary Valuna eel, with rows of sharp teeth stretching above his forehead and around his jaw, while a spine of jewel-encrusted bones glides down his back.

“Father?” I try to say, but the words burn my throat as sand fills it, choking me. It comes out my nose. My eyes. I fall to my knees, silently begging Father to turn to me.

Look at me. Please. You have to help me.

My vision swims. I grab on to my tongue, thinking perhaps I can dig the sand out myself. But I can’t control my hand. It blips in my vision, first by my side, then at my throat. On my tongue again.

I try to scream, and though no sound comes out, Father turns to me slowly.

Only Father doesn’t have golden eyes or rows of bloodied teeth.

The fox wears his crown. His cape. And it smiles at me, eyes glinting as it draws forward, growing twice its size with every step.

It freezes only as something strikes my face. The fox whips its head to the side and growls.

I see nothing that could have struck me, yet I’m knocked back a step. The fox whimpers and shrinks to half its size.

Amora!

The sand no longer burns my eyes. It drains from my throat, and I can breathe again.

The fox snaps its giant eyes to me. “I can’t help you unless you let me,” it whispers, trying to crawl closer. But I finally find my legs again, and kick myself back against the sand.

Focus, Amora! You need to focus!

I squint my eyes shut, and see a glimpse of Bastian and Ferrick standing over me.

When I open my eyes again, it’s the fox, the heat of its gaping mouth on my face.

Focus!

I dig my fists into the sand, suck in a breath, and slam my eyes shut as the fox lunges for me again.

The world spins and warps back into focus as thousands of birch trees sprout around me. I suck in desperate breaths, body shaking as I try to find my focus. The trees stretch impossibly high, covering the sky with their thin but bountiful branches. They’re all I see, but gentle hands smooth over my forehead.

“Is she okay?” I recognize the desperate voice as Ferrick’s. He’s somewhere beside me.

“She will be,” Bastian answers, closer. “Stars, Princess. It’s almost as though you like being cursed.”

I swallow, heartbeat slowing thanks to the gentle fingers that comb soothingly through my hair. When I manage to focus and dip my head back, Vataea frowns down at me.

“Sorry,” she says. “This place is riddled with tricks. I stopped Ferrick, but I couldn’t get to you in time.” She helps me ease onto my feet, both Bastian and Ferrick in front of me with their hands out, ready to help.

“I hate these woods,” I growl, and though my words are bitter, they seem to put everyone at ease. The lines of worry in Ferrick’s forehead smooth themselves, and though Bastian drips with sweat, he seems to stand a little steadier.