“Holy shit!” Hudson yells as he hugs me so tightly that I can barely breathe. “We did it!”

And yay! I’m all for celebrating not dying at the hands of the giants. But I’ve got a more urgent problem. “Get it off, get it off, get it off!” I wipe the sleeve of my black prison jumpsuit across my face before I start yanking at the front zipper. Just because I’m a badass doesn’t mean I want to be covered in giant blood and body parts—so these clothes have to go.

“It’s okay,” Hudson soothes as he tries to wipe away whatever he can with the sleeves of his uniform. For obvious reasons, he does not have the same objection to blood that I do—even if it means being covered with it instead of drinking it.

Pandemonium reigns all around us—the house lights come up, confetti pours down from the ceiling, and people from the stands try to rush the field to meet us. But I don’t want to meet any of these horrible people, and I definitely don’t want to celebrate my having a whole lot to do with two people getting dead.

Yeah, they would have killed Hudson and me without a second thought, but that doesn’t mean I don’t feel remorse that things had to go down this way. In a perfect world, all four of us would have walked out of this ballroom.

Then again, in a perfect world, we wouldn’t have been in this ballroom to begin with. And there sure as hell wouldn’t have been a crowd full of spectators chomping at the bit to see us kill each other.

“Get it off!” I tell Hudson again, but he pulls me close and whispers calming sounds in my ear as he strokes my hair.

“I promise we’ll get you cleaned up as soon as we can,” he tells me. “But I’ve got nothing right now and—”

“Here,” Remy says as he comes up behind us. He’s got a wet towel in his hand. “You can use this to clean yourself up.”

Hudson shoots him a grateful look, but I’m too busy squealing with delight to say anything. I reach for the towel, but Hudson takes it instead and starts cleaning me off while Remy, Vander, and Flint—still carrying Calder over his shoulder—keep the epic pandemonium away from us. Thankfully, it only takes Hudson a few minutes to get me as clean as he can with one damp towel.

It’s not perfect, but my hair, face, and hands are clean, and I can’t feel anything sticky on my uniform, so I’m going to go with it. I shove the image of myself covered in someone else’s blood for the second time this year back into my bill drawer, and I don’t regret it even a little. Late payment or not, I’m perfectly okay with never taking it back out again.

“We need to go,” Remy says out of nowhere, and just like that, he’s hustling Hudson and me toward one of the ballroom’s side doors that no spectator is going out of. Flint and Vander pull up the rear.

“Where are we going?” Flint asks, but Remy’s too busy hauling ass to answer.

And as we make it through the door and into one of the back hallways, I know why. Charon is trying to sneak away. The jerk.

“I know it’s past your bedtime,” Remy calls out as we catch up with him, “but we’ve got some business to take care of.”

Charon turns around, annoyance in his eyes. “I have to say, that was unexpected.”

“So was getting tossed into a ring with two giants out for blood,” I shoot back. “But I guess we all have to adapt.”

He looks me over from top to toe. “Apparently there’s a lot more to you than meets the eye.” The obvious disgust on his face says that’s not a good thing.

“A deal’s a deal,” Remy tells him.

“Yes, I know a deal’s a deal.” He mocks Remy’s accent. “I was simply going to my office to make arrangements.”

“Exactly what arrangements need to be made?” Vander asks, his voice rumbling through the hallway. “Our people won, fair and square. You need to let us go.”

“I don’t need to do anything,” Charon snaps back. “I run this prison, not you. I make the decisions about who goes and who leaves, not you.”

“But that’s exactly it, right?” I tell him, arms crossed over my chest. “No one ever gets to leave, do they? You make them go through the whole Chamber facade because that keeps them docile for a long time. Then, when they finally realize no one atones, they have to make enough money to buy their freedom from you—which feels like serious bullshit to me, but hey. Your prison.”

I hold up my hands like it’s no big deal, like the entire situation—and his obvious exploitation of the people under his care—isn’t one of the most hideous things I have ever seen or heard of. “And then, once you get the money from them, you make them fight to the death with giants they can’t beat—all while taking money from Cyrus and God only knows who else to keep people in prison who don’t even belong here.”

“Your point?” he snarls.

“My point is you can pretend your word is your bond, but the truth is, your word doesn’t mean shit.”

“That’s not true!” he tells me, and for a second I think he’s going to have a temper tantrum right here in the middle of the hallway. He’s actually stomping his foot and everything. “My word is my bond! It has always been my bond.”

“Because you say so?” I mock. And I know I should shut up. I know I’m probably making everything worse. But I am beyond angry that my fate and the fate of my friends—that the fate of everyone in this place—is at the mercy of a little boy-man without a conscience or a shred of actual decency to his name.

“Because it’s true!” he howls.

“Then keep the deal you made,” Hudson says.

He doesn’t want to. It’s written all over his face that he had planned to keep us in here where he can torture us some more, make us pay for what we did to his carefully laid plan. Because if he lets us go, he has to deal with Cyrus and who knows who else.

“You do realize if you keep us here, we won’t be silent, right?” Flint adds. “I’ll tell everybody in the Hex what we’ve learned. What are you going to do? Send the windigos after the crown dragon prince because he’s telling everyone your rules are bullshit? Good luck with that.”

Charon holds our gaze, a muscle in his jaw ticking the seconds down. “Fine! I’ll take you across. Let me message my guards, let them know that we’re coming. And then we’ll head out.”

The idea of finally getting away from this place has relief flowing through me. I’m still angry, will be angry for a very long time, but I’m ready to be gone. Ready to get the Crown and take care of Cyrus once and for all.

Thinking about him and the inevitable war that will be coming our way has me itching to get moving. But it’s also got me itching for something else.

“You need to take off our bracelets before we go,” I tell Charon, holding out my hand for easy access. Already, joy is seeping into the emptiness inside me caused by the choking of my powers. I knew I missed them, knew an important part of me was gone, but until I opened myself up to the idea of getting them back, I had no idea just how much I’ve missed being a gargoyle.

For a girl who was a little traumatized at the idea a few months ago, I’ve grown awfully used to being able to fly and access the elements and channel magic. I can’t wait to feel my wings—I’ll never complain about them giving me a backache again.

Charon laughs, just full-on laughs. “Sorry,” he answers in a voice that lets us know he very definitely isn’t. “You didn’t negotiate for that.”

“We negotiated to be let free!” Flint exclaims.

“Yes, and I will set you free from the prison.” Charon’s smile is evil now. “But that’s all I’m responsible for.”

“You put these cuffs on us,” Hudson said.

“No, one of the intake officers put the cuffs on you. I don’t really get involved in that side of the prison, so again. I’m sorry. Now, the deal was for five of you, so let’s go.”

“No!” I tell him. “The deal was for six of us!” I look around and do a quick mental count again, in case I’ve gone delirious. Flint, Calder, Remy, Vander, Hudson and me. No, that’s definitely six.

“The deal was for five,” Charon informs me, eyes narrowed. “If you don’t like it, take it up with your magician friend. He’s the one who negotiated.”

“Remy?” I ask, turning to him. “What’s going on?”

“Why does he think there’s only five of us?” Vander asks. “So help me, if you betrayed me—”

“You’re going,” Remy cuts him off. “You’re all going. I’m the one who’s staying.”

146

Hide-and-Sneak

“What the hell?” squawks Flint. “Why would you—”

I hold up a hand, and for once, Flint actually listens to me and quiets down. “You didn’t include yourself in the deal?” I ask. I keep my voice calm even as I struggle to understand.

He shrugs. “I told you, cher. I was always meant to take the last flower.”

“Yeah, but wouldn’t this just be easier? You could come with us now—” I start to turn back to Charon to try to negotiate. I know it’s a lost cause, but I have to do something. We can’t leave him in this hellhole.