The streets continue to fill up as we walk through them, the crowds growing thicker and more boisterous as the last of the cells empty. By the time we make it to the corner, the five of us are so tightly packed together that I end up stepping on Hudson’s feet more than once. Eventually, we stop at a beer-merchant/drinking stall with a sign proudly calling it PARADISO—and I sincerely hope this isn’t the owner’s definition of paradise, ’cause no.

A ton of elves (pointy ears) and goblins (nuff said) look like they’re already on their second or third drinks. “Is the merch ready?” Remy asks the creepy-looking bartender with the dead eyes and sallow skin, who I’m pretty sure is a merman based on the Triton tattoos he’s got all over his currently naked upper body.

The bartender finishes pulling a pint of some kind of dark beer and slides it down the polished plywood bar to an elf sitting on a stool at the end. Then he wipes his hands on a towel before reaching beneath the makeshift bar and pulling out a brown-wrapped package.

Remy takes it with a nod and fist bump, then turns and walks away.

The third time this happens, we end up at a sketchy fortune-telling place, complete with dirty tarot cards and a wizened old troll dressed in a shiny orange-and-purple blazer with sequins on the collar and wrists. Apparently, being born with magic doesn’t also mean you’re born with taste.

We wait outside while Remy runs in and delivers one of the packages he picked up earlier, and as we watch the guy doing card tricks with his tarot, Hudson asks Calder, “How does he tell fortunes with his magic bound?”

“It’s not bound,” she answers. “None of the people working the Pit are inmates. They’re merchants who come in every day to ply their trade.”

“And they’re okay with what goes on here?” I ask, horrified. “Just because they can make some money off it?”

“Maybe they don’t know,” Flint suggests. “If this is all they ever see—”

“Maybe they don’t want to know,” I shoot back. “I mean, look around at these people. Everyone has their magic bound; a bunch of people are missing body parts courtesy of psychotic, cannibalistic guards; a lot of the prisoners are skating the edges of sanity themselves because of time in the Chamber. How could they not notice?”

“Yeah, well, people tend to think those who are in prison deserve whatever punishment they get,” Hudson comments. “You’re only in prison because you did something wrong. You chose to commit a crime. Of course, if they break a law, it was situational. They had no choice. They were a victim of circumstance.”

Remy shrugs. “Only criminals are behind bars. Victims aren’t. That’s how you tell them apart, I figure.”

“That’s horrible,” I reply.

“It is what it is.”

I cross my arms over my chest and lean back against the pole holding up this ramshackle booth. “Yeah, well, it sucks.”

“If these people come in,” Hudson says, “then there must be a way for them to leave.”

Remy grins as he joins us again. “Bingo.”

The breath I didn’t know I was holding slowly eases from my chest as I glance at Flint and Hudson, and we all smile together. This. This is a chance. And Remy seems tight with the merchants—maybe that’s been his plan all along. To see if we could escape with them at the end of the day. No wonder he’s concerned about hiding the blacksmith, though.

Remy turns to leave, but the troll follows us out, his tarot cards in hand. “Let me tell your fortune, pretty girl.”

“Not today, Lester,” Calder tells him. “We have stuff to do.”

“I wasn’t talking to you,” he answers as he fans out his deck of cards. “Pick one,” he directs me.

“Oh, I don’t think—”

“It’s on the house,” he says with a wave of his hand. “You look just like my favorite granddaughter.”

I have no idea how to take that, considering he’s a troll, but I merely smile and say, “Thank you. But we need to go.”

“What’s your hurry?” He glances at his watch. “You’ve got eleven and a half hours left before you’ve got to be back in your cell. You can give ol’ Lester three minutes.”

I start to say no again—with everything we’re about to attempt, it seems really rash to let some fortune-teller get a look inside my future.

But Remy gives me a little go-ahead nod, and it’s obvious he’s got a soft spot for Lester. So even though I know I’m going to regret it, I give in and pull out a card. Then jump a little as everyone around me tenses—including Lester.

“What is it?” I ask, since I don’t exactly know tarot cards that much.

“Trouble,” Hudson answers as he studies the card that looks like a tower being struck by lightning.

“Big trouble,” Lester tells me as he grabs my hand with his free one and brings it to his lips. But then he sniffs me for one long breath, and his eyes go big. “You didn’t tell me who she was,” he reprimands Remy.

Remy doesn’t answer, just kind of smiles a little even as I wonder if it’s so obvious that I’m a gargoyle.

Lester must figure out that Remy’s not going to answer, because eventually he turns back to me and says, “There is only one path for you, my queen.”

131

Lost and Bound

Despite myself, my heart speeds up, and I lean forward a little. Because if this guy can tell me what my one, true path is, I am all in. God knows I haven’t been able to find it myself.

He must notice he’s got my undivided attention, because he shoves his cards in his pocket, then covers our joined hands with his other hand. “You must find this path and follow it, my beauty, before it’s too late.”

I wait for more, but then he steps back and grins. “See, I told you it would only take a couple of minutes.” He winks at me. “Go find that path, girl.”

Remy flips him a coin as we all wave and walk away, but as soon as we turn a corner, he cracks up. “Your face was the most priceless thing I’ve ever seen,” he tells me. “Worth every cent of that coin I gave him.”

“Well, how was I supposed to know he was full of it? We’re surrounded by paranormals.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Flint says with a grin. “Maybe because he was a literal troll?”

“Fair point,” I say as we turn down another corner and get hit by the most amazing smell. “Tacos?” I ask, because if there is one thing I can recognize at a hundred paces, it’s the scent of tacos. “You didn’t tell me there were tacos in the Pit.”

“Tacos and pizza,” Remy says.

“I don’t care about pizza, but I would do just about anything for some tacos right now.”

“Anything?” Remy asks and tosses Calder a wink.

“I’ll get you some tacos, Grace.” Hudson moves ahead of the group. “How many do you want? Five? Ten?”

I laugh, because Hudson is being ridiculous. Whatever Remy is thinking he might extort from me for tacos, it is definitely not what Hudson is thinking.

“How about three?” I tell him as I hurry to catch up with him.

It takes a few minutes—apparently paranormals love tacos as much as girls from Southern California do—but eventually we’re crowded around a picnic table devouring some of the best carne asada tacos I have ever eaten. And even Hudson is eating again; he has a full thermos of blood from a nearby stand.

But Hudson isn’t focused on his own meal. Instead, he’s watching me eat with a huge grin on his face—for someone who doesn’t consume food, he sure enjoys feeding me. As the lunch finally runs out, he turns to Remy. “Since your troll friend wasn’t much help, I’ve got to ask. Have you seen it yet?”

Remy shakes his head. “Just enough to know that it all hinges on Grace.”

I swallow down the fear bubbling up in my chest, threatening to make me lose my tacos. If this plan was counting on me to save everyone…we’re doomed.

“What do you see?” Hudson asks, reaching down to entwine our hands.

Remy leans back, his hands crossed over his chest. “Like I’ve said, we’re going to need money and a lot of luck.”

“That’s not much of a plan,” Calder says, and for the first time, she sounds like she’s really in the conversation. Like she’s thinking about something other than herself. “Considering we’ve got six people to get out of here.”

“I know.” Remy shakes his head. “But we’ve got three flowers, which means we only have to figure out how to get three of us out. The blacksmith gets one of the flowers, obviously. No way is the prison ever letting him go unless it doesn’t have a choice. My visions keep telling me that the only way I can get out is with a flower. But there must be another way for everyone else.”

His eyes are swirling smoke again. “Sometimes I see you getting out. Sometimes it disappears.” His eyes settle back into their usual forest green as he continues. “So clearly there are things we need to do that are still undecided.”

“Maybe they’ve atoned enough,” Calder says. “Maybe that’s how you get Flint and Hudson out. And Grace takes the last flower.”

“That still leaves you,” I tell her.

“Maybe that was just a pipe dream. Maybe the prison can’t stand for me to go anywhere.” She forces a wide grin, then does a truly impressive hair toss—so impressive that someone actually whistles from the table behind us. “I mean, would you give this up if you didn’t have to?”

“We’re not leaving without you,” I tell her, something Remy quickly seconds.