Page 116 of The Vixen

CHAPTER 32

SAWYER

Liberty hides in the trees while I go back for Persephone.

It’s fifteen minutes exactly before the horn blares to signal for a ceremony. I don’t even want to know what the ceremony could be or what Luna is doing to prolong it. Two out of three I’ve seen here have involved death.

I’ve pretty much had it with this fucking place and their ceremonies.

And yet, as I climb the trellis to Luna’s bedroom, I’m struck with a shuddering sense of deja vu, and for a moment—just a moment—the past catches up to me. I hesitate, one hand gripping tight, the other hovering over a vine.

Wasted time:

On the trudging walk to the Keep.

On the overanalytical sweep of the trellis.

And now, halfway up the climb.

“Move,” I command under my breath before grabbing a handful of wood and pulling myself higher. And higher. And higher. Until I’m climbing through the window to Luna’s room to find Persephone sitting on the bed. Caramel shins peek from a frilly white dress as she taps her heels against the bed, long black curls bouncing with the movement.

A red flower frames her ear, but otherwise, there isn’t a drop of color to signify anything but purity—and suddenly the hierarchical coloring is the cruelest thing about this place. Everything you are, summed up in the hue of cloth. The size of your heart, determined by the shade of your skin.

My muscles go rigid as I carefully plant my feet on the floor and shut the window, eyes flicking between Persephone and the door. I wait for her to scream for a Keeper, but her jittery legs never pause with panic.

Without thinking, I search the room for signs of a trap. As if Luna has set me up once again. It explains the deja vu, but it doesn’t explain Persephone. “Hi…”

“Hello, Mr. Hansley,” she squeaks. “How are you today?”

She asks the strange man climbing through a window. Again, I glance around, going so far as to peek beneath the bed.

“I’m…”

Nothing, not even cobwebs or dust. What did I think would be there?

I stand up straight and try to hold Persephone’s gaze. “I’m doing well… How are you?”

Jesus Christ, I sound like I have a gun to my back.

“Well.” She gives a slight bow while still sitting. “Thank you for your thoughtfulness.”

“Uh huh.”

The chloroform. I’m supposed to get the chloroform.

“Is uh… Is Luna around?” I ask, though Persephone doesn’t seem to need an explanation for my presence. “I thought she’d be here.”

It’s less than a second before it becomes clear I said the wrong thing. There’s a whip of tension as Persephone’s eyes narrow. Her head tilts.

“Opponents are required to be at their stations a minimum of an hour before the ceremony… The Head Keeper must prepare, for the sake of her people.”

I blink slowly. Persephone’s face looks just as serious.

Opponents. Stations. Luna must prepare.

It's a riddle that isn’t hard to solve, but I find my mind slogging anyway. The scent of gunpowder fills my nose at the memory of clay shattering beneath Luna’s boot. I’d hardly cared what it meant. I didn’t even ask.

“I’ll try to prolong the ceremony as much as I can,”Luna chimes in my head.