THE GREAT PRETENDER ¬ ACOTAR

chapter xvii.

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CHAPTER XVII

UGLY WYRM

THE DAY OF THE FIRST TASK CAME. Callaghan chose to watch from the afar, she wouldn't miss this. The shouts went louder as the guards threw Feyre in the maze. Everyone had their eyes on the trembling girl. Six of the High Lords stood before her. Cal refused to roll her eyes at Rhysand who had a sly smile on his face.

Then Amarantha raised a hand, in an instant the room went deadly silent. Cal kept her focus on the mortal. She didn't even listen to Amarantha's words. A couple gold flashes passed her vision once the Wyrm was released. It sickened her that they were betting against her life. Though mortal, a life is a life. A soul is a soul. The way High Lord Tamlin looked blank raised her temper as well, does he even care for her the way she did?

Feyre ran and ran. She ran for her life. The shouts became louder when the Wyrm was on her heels. Cal began wringing her hands in anxiety. If Feyre fails, their only hope for breaking the wicked queen's rule would be gone.

After a series of twists and turns, of slides and slips, Feyre was able to conjure up a plan. She rolled in the mud, covering her every inch with it. Smart, Cal thought. "She's building a trap." She heard Rhysand say when someone asked.

"But the Middengard—"

"Relies on its scent to see," He smiled, "And Feyre just became invisible."

Callaghan fought back a smirk when Feyre threw him an obscene gesture before running towards the Wyrm.

That was beautiful, I wish I could do the same, she told Rhysand. Cal didn't miss the glare he briefly threw in her direction.

The task continued on, with Feyre building her trap and the Wyrm going around looking for its dinner. Then for a moment, the girl lost sight of the Wyrm.

From the sidelines, Lucien's voice rang, "To your left!"

Cal paled at his shout. That wouldn't be ignored. He will surely be punished for helping her.

The spy tore her eyes away from Lucien and watched as Feyre led the Wyrm into her trap. When she and the Wyrm jumped in, the room held their breath in anticipation, waiting on who or what would jump back out.

Much to everyone's dismay and Callaghan's relief, it was the girl who jumped out. The gasps turned to cheers. She had won her first task. But then she took a few running steps and threw her bone sword. It landed by Amarantha's feet, splattering mud on her pristine white dress. The smile on Cal's face appeared, she was impressed.

The queen talked about bets and money, Callaghan didn't really care. But when she heard Rhysand's name come out of her mouth, her head snapped towards them. Rhysand bet on Feyre's success and Amarantha wasn't happy, she could tell.

As if her adrenaline had run out, Feyre was slipping in and out of consciousness as the Attor dragged her out.

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SPRING'S EMISSARY LAID ON THE STONE HE WAS SHACKLED ON, weak and cold. It was twenty lashes after all, and done by his friend nonetheless.

Callaghan kept her steps light as she approached him. He couldn't help but flinch when she touched his bare shoulder.

"I will take some of the pain away, so that you could heal faster," her voice was soft, "Is that alright?"

He looked at her, but his vision was blurred. Lucien only let out a weak groan as a reply to her question.

Cal nods, placing a gentle hand on the skin of his shoulder, applying the skill she had learned from Arrin. She focused on taking away most of his pain, transferring it to the ground beneath them. She tried not to wince as the pain passed by her, using her body as a bridge from Lucien to the ground.

A sigh of relief came out of Lucien's lips, he went to thank her but she shushed him, "I couldn't take much, her magic is far too strong. Rest, heal, and forget I was ever here."

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