Chapter 22
Chapter twenty-two
Arush of maids woke me the next morning. Well, morning wasn’t entirely accurate. Between my long nap and late night, I’d dozed off sometime just before the sun rose, so it was probably near midday.
The two older ladies who had helped me prepare for events in the past dragged me out of bed within seconds, getting to work combing my hair and throwing a dress over my shoulders.
This could only mean that it was time for another event, and I was grateful that I didn’t have to wait endless days between the last one and now.
Once I was dressed, the ladies sat me down in front of the breakfast tray that I’d apparently neglected all morning, urging me to eat a few pieces of cold toast before I was subjected to whatever event was next.
I wasn’t particularly hungry yet, but I knew better than to pass up food.
The tray was set up with the usual plate, teacup, and cutlery, but there was something additional waiting for me this morning.
A tiny ceramic vase was placed just above the plate, holding a familiar flower that looked similar to a dried-up rose despite being alive.
The fogwrath.
I plucked the flower from the vase when the servants’ heads were turned, tucking the bloom safely in my pocket to ensure it wasn’t cleared with the tray. I needed to thank Cedric later, so long as the king didn’t succeed at killing me in today’s event.
The guards came to collect me when I was only halfway through breakfast, so I was stuck chewing the last bite of my food while being rushed through the halls. To my relief, we didn’t seem to be going outside today, but we also weren’t moving toward the ballroom.
More questions arose as we approached the wing of the palace where all the studies were, and I was finally ushered into a small, empty room.
Brisa and Ciara were already inside, both waiting in tense silence as we all investigated our new confines.
The room appeared to be vacant, with nothing more than some sort of picture frame covered by a sheet of muslin on the wall and no windows.
However, the lack of windows seemed to be made up for by the excessive number of doors.
Other than the one we had entered through, there were five doors spread out across the walls, each one painted brightly in a specific color. It felt like I was in some sort of puzzle box, and the moment the last competitor was dropped inside, my theory was validated.
“You’ll have five minutes to select a door through which to exit,” a guard said as he pushed a skittish Mara in last. “Only one competitor may enter each door, and the one you entered will remain locked.”
Five exits and six competitors? This didn’t bode well.
“Each colored door will open up to a hallway,” the guard continued.
“A prince waits at the end of three of them, and he will award you three points. The king waits at the end of the fourth; he will award you five points. One door will have no one behind it, which will award zero points. Whoever is left behind will have three points subtracted from their overall ranking. You may not open a door until the timer runs out.”
The tension immediately doubled in the room, each of the girls eyeing each other like they were all obstacles they needed to conquer. It was one thing to score low in this event, but having points deducted from our overall scores could be deadly.
It’s a game of luck then? A little inconvenient, but at least Mara will have as fair of a shot as anyone.
“And one last thing,” the guard said, approaching the covered frame that was positioned above the entry door. “You are allowed one clue. Best of luck.”
He removed the muslin, then immediately turned over an hourglass placed on the floor. All eyes jumped to the hand-painted clue, none of us even batting an eye at the timer or the click of the locked door.
Don’t pick the green door.
That was all that it said, though its instructions were at least clear. That is, I thought so, until I took a second look at the doors. There were red, brown, pink, grey, and blue doors…but not a single green.
Perhaps this game wasn’t as simple as I thought.
“It must be some sort of puzzle,” Avalyn thought aloud, her smooth, low voice almost jarring in the quiet room. “Are we supposed to work together to solve it, then?”
“Obviously not,” Brisa said snidely, flicking her long blonde braid over her shoulder. “This is a competition, not a team project. We’re clearly meant to come to our own independent decision.”
“It sounds more like a race to me,” Sybil said, her sharp voice startling me even more than Avalyn’s.
I wasn’t sure I’d heard her speak until now.
She was leaning against the wall, her arms crossed over her abdomen in a way that made me wonder if she was in any pain.
“Don’t be the last one standing and hope you get lucky. ”
“Of course you’d all think so simply.” Brisa rolled her eyes. “If that’s all it was, then why give us all this time to make our choice?”
She had a point. The king clearly wanted us to ponder our decision, but was it to solve a riddle or to cause strife between us?
“How should we select our doors, then?” Avalyn asked. “Shall we claim them now or leave it to be a free-for-all once our time runs out?”
Mara flinched at the suggestion of the free-for-all, clearly not a fan of trying to fight for an opportunity to score.
I reread the clue while the girls continued to talk it out, trying to see if anything about the phrasing or the letter stuck out to me. It was as simple as it could be, not even allowing for a sensible anagram to be made out of any of the letters.
Don’t pick the green door…
It would have been a helpful hint if any of the doors had been remotely green; the closest was probably the blue door, but even that was a stretch.
It would be safe to assume that whichever door was considered green would be the one that scored zero points, allowing the clue to ensure that you scored at least three points or more.
But which door is it really warning us about?
“Do you think the red door is the worst?” Mara leaned over to whisper in my ear. “It’s Ivalon’s color after all, or maybe the pink?”
It seemed like a logical deduction considering the king’s feelings toward the kingdom’s colors, but I couldn’t find a way to attach her logic to the clue.
“I think the brown and grey doors are the safest,” Mara whispered, her confidence giving me a bit of hope. “What do you think?”
I wasn’t certain, but I agreed that those two were far enough from green that they were less of a risk.
Red was the contrasting color to green, so that could have been the answer to the clue.
Or perhaps it went a step further, and it was referring to the door that was across from the red door, which would be the blue.
Ciara seemed to be fixed on that one, subtly claiming it by shifting in front of it. Perhaps the seawater in her blood drew her to the color. I was happy to let her have it; it seemed like the riskiest choice out of them all at this point.
Though, her choice did make me ponder Mara’s suggestions more.
Was this a mental game to get the girls to choose the color they were naturally drawn to?
Like Mara to red and Ciara to blue? In that case, Brisa should have been drawn to the grey, since it and white seemed to be the colors of her heritage, and perhaps I was meant to choose between the red and the pink?
“Dispute it however you will,” Brisa said with a lift of her small nose. “I’ve made my decision and will not argue it any further.”
As I’d predicted, she stepped in front of the grey door, practically challenging anyone to try to take it from her despite her comically small stature.
“What makes you so certain that one is the correct choice?” Avalyn asked with a fold of her arms.
“Laws of probability,” Brisa boasted. “Your feeble mind wouldn’t understand.”
Avalyn didn’t seem to like that answer, but their aggressive communication reminded me of a communication tactic I hadn’t even thought to utilize until now.
Atlas is behind one of these doors.
I slid my hand behind my back, keeping it out of sight as I tapped out my question to Atlas.
“Color?”
I wouldn’t score as high as whoever found the king, but if he could tell me what door he was behind, I could make sure I made it through that one, even if it meant running over Brisa.
There was no response at first, so I tapped the ring again, and again, and then I just started tapping it without any order in an attempt to get his attention.
Why wasn’t he answering me?
The hourglass was half empty, and I still wasn’t confident about which door I should pick. Was he not able to respond? I moved my hand in front of my eyes to try to inspect the ring in case I wasn’t doing something right, but the moment I saw my hand, I realized what was wrong.
My finger wasn’t purple… The fogwrath in my pocket nullified the magic.
I felt the blood drain from my face; the cursed flower was cutting me off from any and all outside assistance. I was on my own.
“I won’t fight you for the grey door,” Mara jumped into the conversation, shocking everyone that she had the boldness to speak up. “But would you care to share which door you believe is the worst? I’m curious to know your thoughts.”
“Bold of you to assume you’ll make it past the threshold of any of them,” Brisa said coldly. “I think we all know who’s going to get left behind.”
“I didn’t realize it was up for a vote.” I stepped up alongside Mara, my protective instincts overruling my better judgment. There was no reason why Mara should be bullied out of scoring in this event.
“Why shouldn’t it be?” Brisa smiled all too sweetly. “There’s no other reason why they would give us a full five minutes to pick a simple door. Nor any real reason why they would have put us all in here at once. It’s clear to me that they’re simulating a dispute to see how we settle it.”