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My heart kicks in my chest at that word. “What does that mean?”
Max replies with a bitter tone, “The Court of Nightmares is in the Subterranean of Nocturna. Any mortal like us, physically flawed or weak, is deported there. We’re a blight on this perfect, dreamy society. All because we don’t fit their idea of pretty.”
“It’s so fucked up.” Geraldine toys with the spoon in the bowl and stares into the white globs. “First, the world is bombed, then we die during the fallout. But at least I was with my family. I don’t know where I’d be if it weren’t for this bunch of losers over the past few months.”
She looks at her friends with an affection they each return.
“Ditto,” Max mumbles, squeezing her hand.
The pressure on my heart increases. “How many are here like you?”
“Here for the exhibition?” Geraldine asks. “Or humans here in Avorlorna?”
“Here, anywhere.”
“Thousands in the subterranean.” Max’s complexion pales. “I only counted about eight Nothings here at the tournament. But as you can see, there’s over a hundred exhibitors.”
I gulp. “Thousands in the subterranean?”
He nods. “We’ve seen them tossed down into the watergates. Entry to the subterranean is always through water.”
My pulse quickens. Just another reason for me to stay away from water. “That’s so many.”
“Some Chasers and Nevers have been here since the start—five years ago. Both faerie and mortals awoke simultaneously, each as confused as the other.” Max’s gaze turns inward. “Do you think they call us Nothings because we’re at the bottom of thefood chain when sent down there? Or worse... if we cease to exist?”
His words make me feel sick.
Five years ago.
Five years ago.
They all woke at the same time.
“Best not to think about it, hun,” Peggy tells Max.
“What’s the war about?” I rasp, pulse racing.
“Who knows?” Max shrugs. “But Bob has a theory. Tell her, Bob.”
The older man nods. “I saw one of them beasties attack a Radiant while living in Adularia. The nightmare had her pinned and begging for mercy.” His eyes widen at what must be a dreadful memory. His tone becomes quiet, ominous. “She called it aDevil. It crawled out of the subterranean from apuddle. It looked as pretty as the Radiant... but had horns and claws. Maybe it’s hell down there.”
“What’s your theory, Bob?” Max prompts.
“Oh yeah. I heard it say, ‘Thief, thief. Return what you stole’ repeatedly.” He shivers.
Scandalized, Geraldine whispers, “But the queen claims the war is because the subterraneans want Avorlorna’s land for themselves.”
“Lies,” I mutter.
“Agreed.” Max gives my face a harrowing stare. “But for the record, the Folk are more likely to dispatch the weak, wounded, or disabled before those like you. With your ears, you might be able to find a Radiant who will enchant a stone to hide your... you know, visual shortcomings.”
“Hun, they’re just jealous,” Peggy declares. “Self-confidence in people like us frightens them.”
“Shh,” Bob hushes. “You’re getting too loud. Gossip will get us killed.”
“What are they going to do?” She raises her voice. “We’re dead anyway if we don’t win.”
Geraldine lifts the goop on a spoon, then watches it fall with unfocused eyes. “Is it bad that I still want to try winning, though?”
