A New Threat
Ever, who was fighting his way up the side of the mushroom again.
Once more, a loud crack, followed by the thud of Ever hitting the ground. It seemed that as long as he climbed along the mushroom’s side, it went well, but as soon as he got to the underside of the mushroom, he only had his arm’s strength, and he was strong, sure—
But the root he held onto would break, and he would crash, landing in the growing pile of soil and roots. A cloud of dust swirled up and from it rose a roar of anger. When the dust settled, Ever stood there with tense shoulders, staring at the mushroom.
Moira felt far away as she heard Pyrros say, “First, we need to get past this trial. One thing at a time.”
One thing at a time.
Moira, Nerida, and Pyrros watched dumbfounded as he climbed again, every movement filled with fury. The way he tore at the roots let Moira know, long before it happened, that the roots would break again.
Loud crack… thud.
When he fell again, she closed her eyes.
His furious scream split the silence as he landed on the ground again. Pulling out his knife, he stabbed wildly at the roots forming the base of the mushroom, perhaps believing that if he could not climb it, then he would cut it down instead. Each of his incensed movements made Moira jerk like a frightened animal, roots tightening around her.
The knife did not affect the roots. For each root Ever split, two new ones sprouted from the ground and wound their way into the thousands already there. Even if he extended his arms, the fungus was many times wider than Ever. He would never be able to cut it down.
Ever seemed to have finally realized it, and he turned around. Moira’s heart skipped a beat when she saw his wild eyes.
Where was her Ever?
Sweat ran down his temples and cheeks, his blood-stained clothes sticking to his body. In the sweat streaks, Moira saw his face glowing crimson through the dried black blood. The knife shone in the strange light as he walked back towards them.
Moira realized that she did not know this Ever at all.
Whoever he was, he was dangerous.
“Ever, Ever, please, calm down. We—we’ll fix this.”
Her voice trembled despite her attempts to keep it steady. She sought eye contact with him, but Ever did not so much as glance at her.
With determination in his steps, Ever moved towards Pyrros and cut away at the roots that bound him.
“If I can’t get the damn key,” he growled, “then you’ll have to do it.”
Pyrros tried to pull away from the knife that stabbed through the air towards him again and again. Ever chopped through the roots, but he did not seem to care if he chopped through Pyrros as well, and Moira inhaled sharply every time the knife sliced through the air. Pyrros backed away, whatever little he could while still trapped, and Moira wanted to scream, but it did not get past her throat.
Pyrros was gigantic, and though he tried to escape, the roots pulled up around him faster than Ever had time to cut them, and he screamed his frustration. Several dozen roots twisted around him, forcing Pyrros to keep his wings folded close to his body. He could not fly towards the mushroom even if he wanted to.
While he worked, Ever swore, his face getting redder through the smeared black, realization dawning on him that no matter how much he cut through the roots, he could not free Pyrros. His chopping movements became more and more hysterical.
“Ever!” Moira shouted.
Ever twisted around in surprise at the demand in her voice, breathless, his face black and red and hateful. “You.” He pointed a bloody finger at her. “This is your fault.”
Moira jerked at the words, at the tone. This was not the man she knew. She tried to crawl backward, tried to become smaller than she was, so she could get away from his murderous gaze.
“You’re still under the delusion that I don’t know,” Ever growled in the same tone as when he had told Pyrros to pick up the key. “You think I’m someone you persuaded to come here, someone who doesn’t know why you’re here in the first place?”
All blood drained from Moira’s face. How much did he know? Ever’s hollow laughter followed.
“As if I would have asked my mother to take you in if I thought you were something as poor and pathetic as a lost girl from the woods. That story. That skin color. Those things on your shoulders…did you really think I bought that whole thing about deformities? What kind of moron do you take me for?”
She had never heard anyone speak with such hatred toward another, least of all her. Gone were his gentle eyes and the soft smile. Even her mother, the ruthless Queen of Aurora who considered Moira to be good for nothing, had never been this acidic towards her.
Moira glanced at Nerida and then at Pyrros, but she knew they could not help her.
Nerida had loathed Ever since the first time she had met him.
The realization that Nerida had been right all along—including her first intuition about Pyrros, and then about Ever, who Moira had yet again trusted blindly—burned fiercer than the icy cold water or the thunderstorm that had taken her wings.
Moira turned towards Ever again.
“You… what?”
She wanted to say something daring, but all she had in her voice was shame and confusion.
He crouched down next to her, and she trembled when he placed his hand on her cheek. She had enjoyed his closeness before, his soft kisses—now she just wanted to get as far as possible from him.
He leaned closer to her, his lips almost grazing her cheek, and she tried to recoil at the smell of the monster’s blood, but the vines held her rigid.
In a soft, dangerous tone, he murmured in her ear.
“I got a tip about a missing air princess, and just like the tip said, I found you in the woods. Not exactly subtle, you three. I thought I’d be forced to come home empty-handed after I lost my treasure after my last adventure, but… after listening to you jabber at each other, I realized your plan. To find Ea. All the treasures this place offers. You know nothing about the riches this place promises. But I do.”
Ever held out the bottle of blood from the monster he slaughtered. “See this? The blood of a Scorpius Immanis, do you have any idea what that’s worth?” He snorted. “Of course you don’t. A little air girl, fallen from the sky. You don’t understand the value of anything.”
Hot fury flooded through Moira’s veins, and she wanted to hurt him the way he had tortured the scorpion—but she stood still, frozen by his gaze and the vines around her body.
Ever continued, “And you’re not worth much like that, but with your wings back, I can get a good price for you.” He put his hand in her pocket and dug around until his fingers closed on the mirror. “And this. A magical mirror. Thank you so much for showing me this little treasure. I’ll be paid so well for you, the mirror, the gold…” He laughed coldly. “I could sell you as a package.”
“But—your aunt—”
He stopped and scoffed. “I’ll make sure to save her, too, if for nothing else than to show my father.” He ran his fingers through her hair. Moira remained silent and still, like a statue having lost all life. “You know, that mountain witch you met… You should thank me because I convinced her to stop hunting you. In exchange for a gift, of course.”
Moira’s heart pounded deafeningly. Ever had known about everything all along… He had been lying all along.
“I told you it’s not the worst thing out there. You just didn’t realize that list also included me.”
“But I thought—”
“That I loved you?” He spat the word ‘loved’ as if it were a swear word. “You’re a child, a mindless child, and a means to get where and what I wanted.”
His words were like kicks to her stomach, swift and so hard that she could not draw air into her lungs.
“Leave her alone,” Nerida hissed.
Moira had never heard such fury from her.
Ever turned and looked at her, his eyes dark.
“The little mermaid,” he swooned theatrically. “There are fairy tales about your people, do you know that? You aren’t pleasant creatures in those fairy tales. Lure people into the water to drown them. Cold and heartless. Alone.” He got up slowly as he talked and walked towards her. “And now that I’ve met you, I can say your kind are written about rather accurately.”
He sat down and placed a finger under her chin, forcing her to look at him. Fury burned in Nerida’s eyes. Moira knew she did not take a stranger’s touch easily, let alone a villainous traitor’s.
A moment of silence passed, Nerida and Ever staring at each other murderously, and then Nerida spat on his face. Recoiling, he reacted immediately, slapping her hard across her cheek before grabbing her chin hard enough for his fingers to turn white. “But when it comes down to it, you’re as stupid and brainless as all the other beasts in the world.”
“I’m stupid?” Nerida got out of his hold despite his grip. “You’re the one who can’t even get your key.”
He smirked, a parody of the charming smile he had given Moira all these days. It looked grotesque now. “I think Moira can do it. She’s doesn’t weigh much, right? Birds and bones, and all that? The roots won’t break when she hangs in them.”
“I suspect she won’t want to follow your orders,” said Nerida, undeterred by the slap.
Ever’s horrid smile widened. “Then she might need a little persuasion.”
With the last word, he pulled out the knife so fast the only thing Moira saw was the blade shining silver in the dim light.
Then he stabbed Nerida.