Games Untold (The Inheritance Games #5)

Chapter 27

Chapter 27

I didn’t say a word to him for three days. Remarkably, he didn’t say anything to me, either. On the fourth day, I realized he was barely eating. I hadn’t gone to the trouble of nursing his ass back to life to watch him wither way now.

I set a plate of food roughly down on the mattress beside him and waited.

His gaze slid toward mine. “I’ve read enough fairy tales to know that one should be wary of magical beings bearing food.”

I wasn’t going to go down the fairy-tale path with him again. “Eat, and I’ll play,” I said flatly. “A game of your choosing—within reason.”

“And you claim that you aren’t selfless.” Harry picked up the plastic fork I’d provided, twisting it between his fingers. “That you have no magic. That you aren’t a ray of uncompromising, unbroken light.”

“Eat,” I told him, “and shut up.”

“And here I thought the last few days had established that I’m only capable of doing one of those things at a time.”

I had the sense that might be one of the truest things he’d ever said to me, that he could shut the world out and lose interest in even food—or let it all in.

“ Eat ,” I said again. “We’ll never make it to the lighthouse if you don’t.”

The lighthouse and then farther and then far enough that he could leave .

Harry began to eat. “Hangman,” he told me.

“Hangman?” I repeated.

“That’s the game. But to make it interesting, there’ll be a wager. I have the sense that my people—whoever they are—are very fond of wagers, risky ones in particular.”

It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him exactly who his people were, but I knew —he didn’t want to know.

His brain wouldn’t let him know.

“What’s the bet?” I asked.

“I propose the following terms…” Harry took his damn time spelling it out between bites. “You have three days and unlimited chances to guess my word. Instead of drawing bits and pieces of a stick figure with each wrong guess, I’ll draw the hairs on your head one at a time, if I have to. But if, after the third day, you cannot guess my word, you have to tell me all about the wicked queen.”

My mother.

He must have seen refusal in my expression, because he gave me a second option. “Either that or you can tell me about your lost one.”

“Lost one?” I repeated.

“The person you’re grieving. The one you loved so fiercely.” He caught my gaze again. “No one has eyes like yours, Hannah the Same Backward as Forward, unless they’ve lost.”

Eyes like mine? They were a muddy hazel, unremarkable, guarded. “And what will you give me when I win?” I said.

“ When? I admire your confidence, misplaced though it might be.”

“I’ve solved your last two puzzles, haven’t I?” I shot back. I’d also unfolded every single one of his paper creations without ever tearing them. Every challenge he’d set out, I’d met.

“What do you want if you win, liar mine?”

I want… I couldn’t make myself finish that sentence, not even to say, I want you to make it all the way to the lighthouse. Now. “I don’t know.”

“An unspecified boon?” Harry raised both brows. “How very fairy tale of you, Hannah the Same Backward as Forward.”

“Frightened?” I taunted. I preferred this Harry to the one of the last few days.

“Terrified,” he replied with a smile. “You have a deal.”