“But you do play along. You work for them.” Rainbow stood and slapped the grass from the back of her coat.
“Why do you work for them?” Red said.
“It’s not . . .,” Neven started. Not important? Not relevant? Whatever she’d planned to say, she changed her mind. “Roughly four hundred years ago, using your units of time, a Chosen One was appointed to save their world. They trained. They traveled. They found compatriots. They found love. They found a dragon—an aggressive, willful dragon, who chased them across the continent for disturbing her home, and whose antagonism faded once she learned the Chosen One’s mission. The two began to cooperate. Mistrustful, at first. Reluctant. They became partners. Eventually, they became friends. They fought the forces of evil together. And they failed. And the world ended.”
I watched her, barely daring to blink.
“The Powers plucked me from my dimension a second after my Chosen One died; a second before I would have died, too. They let me watch the destruction from afar. Bit by slow, inevitable bit.
“Despite our failure, the Powers were impressed with my performance. They offered me a job. If I refused, I’d be returned to a home that no longer existed. So I learned their rules. I played along with their games I so despise.” She hesitated. “I’ve seen what happens when Chosen Ones fail. I do what I can to help them succeed.”
Rainbow didn’t look impressed. “Within these arbitrary-as-hell rules they set up?”
“Neven didn’t have to tell us about this,” Four said.
“I didn’t,” Neven agreed. “And I’ll probably face consequences. Listen. I’ll give you a few minutes to decide what to do. Whatever your choice, I respect it. But . . . the Power may interfere further to give you incentive. They are eager to see you defeat the trolls. Soon.”
“Incentive?” Red echoed.
“Some choice.” Rainbow crossed her arms. “We can walk away, as long as we ignore that the world will end?”
“Allowing you to make an informed decision is the best I can do for you.” Neven dipped her head. “Use that whistle when you’re ready.”
She took off over the field toward the forest, as simple as a flap of her wings.
Then it was just the four of us in a half circle, Rainbow the only one standing. She watched Neven leave. Wind whipped blue-violet strands around her face, and she yanked a stray lock from her eyes. “Shit.” The anger that’d laced her tone seconds ago was gone. “Shit.”
“This is why we’re here?” Red climbed to her feet. “Not to help save the world, but to feature in some game?”
I rubbed my shins, saying nothing. We should talk about what this meant, about what to do, except. Except I couldn’t get my thoughts on track.
Random, Neven kept saying in my mind. Artificial. Select. Playing.
By my side, Four had her head low, staring at the grass between her crossed legs. She was breathing shallowly.
I was doing the same thing. I hadn’t realized. My chest felt tight. I couldn’t get enough air. I unzipped my coat to invite the breeze in, but barely felt a difference. Heat still coated every inch of me. I shrugged the coat off, except one hand got stuck, the cuff too tight around my arm and the sleeve turning inside out as I tried to tear it free, and I was wrestling with my coat and trying to push it off and it was just one big mess and the coat was so ripped up that the filling got everywhere, and God, it was just getting hotter—
“Prime,” Red said quietly. “Are you OK?”
“Don’t call me that. Hazel.” I finally got a hold of that sleeve and tore it free. “My name is Hazel.” My voice sounded choked.
Red sank to her knees in front of me. “Hey, so’s mine. Betcha I can even guess your last name.” Something tugged nervously at her lips.
I wanted to say something. Ask what the hell she was trying to do. I couldn’t get the words out.
“Guys, we need to—” Rainbow started.
“Wait,” Red bit, snappier than I’d ever heard her.
“Rainbow’s right, we should, we should . . .” Tears pooled in my eyes. “It’s random? The Powers only chose me ’cause they like farm kids? I kept thinking they must’ve gotten it wrong and I wasn’t the Chosen One, but I figured, I figured there was maybe something I hadn’t seen yet, maybe they were right and somehow I could do what they wanted like in the stories, and, and . . .” The air I sucked in didn’t seem to reach my lungs, no matter how much my chest strained and tried and hurt. “I’m just random. There’s nothing about me. Nothing special. Nothing that lets me do this. No destiny. No reason I’ll succeed. I’m just. Christ. I’m sorry. I can’t. I can’t. Rainbow’s right. We should talk about . . . Neven’s world ended because her Chosen One failed and we, we can’t do the same, we should . . .”
By my side, Four was shaking. Her cheeks glistened. She was sucking in air, big gasps of it. They didn’t help her any more than they did me. Her face was turning a blotchy bright red, and I didn’t need to wonder if I ever looked like that, because I knew I did right at that moment.
“Hazel, both of you—” Red tried to meet my eyes.
“I can’t breathe.” Four’s voice wavered. “I’m sorry, I can’t . . .”
I scrambled to my feet. This wasn’t right. I couldn’t sit here and freak out with them staring at me. I had to go. Like I could shuck it all off if I ran quickly enough. Like if I stayed here, I’d stop breathing entirely, and then—that’d be failure,
