CHAPTER FOUR #2
“Border surveillance comes in various forms,” said Ajax, beginning to slowly pace.
“There’s sentry duty, where you’d be posted at the city’s watchtowers to monitor activity.
Ob-duty involves staying at bunker observation posts within Reaper’s Pines for stretches of time.
Ongoing patrols occur daily in the Pines, which isn’t a favorite since it’s not exactly hospitable terrain. ”
Sounded delightful.
Keyes folded his arms across his solid chest. “Many risks and responsibilities come with being part of the Order. We train hard and we keep busy. We also all chip in to run the garrison. Cooking, cleaning, tending the animals—whatever is required.”
Hearing a low gasp, I spared Seneca a quick glance, feeling my lips quirk at her offended frown. She was clearly affronted that she would be required to ‘chip in.’ As though it was beneath her.
“I realize that many of you have never had to lift a finger in your life,” Keyes went on, “but that will need to change if you become one of us. We don’t carry dead weight; no one gets special treatment.”
“That’s not to say it’s all work here,” Vesper told us. “But there’s definitely no work/life balance. Being an officiate would be your life.”
Ajax paused in his pacing. “You may not be put-off by any of this. Part of it may be that there’s little you won’t do to have access to the power lying dormant within you.
Understandable. But that privilege comes with a price tag.
If you join the Order, you will not procreate.
You will not marry. You will have no contact with the general population unless it’s part of your role—your loyalty has to be primarily to the Tapestry. ”
While I’d already learned all of that, it was clear that the majority of the other candidates hadn’t. They exchanged looks of surprise—some didn’t seem too happy about it, others weren’t much fazed.
As I was glancing at each face, my gaze clashed with that of Atticus. His mouth curved into a condescending ‘you’re going to fail what comes next’ grin.
I gave him a vapid smile and then looked away.
“For anyone here thinking that nothing could make them reconsider joining the Order,” began Vesper, “don’t be too sure.” A little smirk played with one corner of her lips. “Xalbia has a way of changing people’s minds. It is not a series of trials. It is forty straight days of abject misery.”
It was what?
Keyes picked up where Vesper left off, saying, “It will challenge you. Drain you. Play on your fears. Force you to confront your weaknesses. It may even kill you—as may the surfacing of your power. Not all godkin handle the latter well; they become too overwhelmed.”
“The purpose of Xalbia isn’t to torture you,” Ajax specified, “though it might feel that way at times. Everything it puts you through is in an effort to expose and lure out your every strength and weakness. It will also prepare you for what lies ahead, should you decide you want a place in the Order. Being descendants of gods won’t give you an edge; Xalbia is designed to challenge people with your strength, speed, and stamina—none of which will be enough to get you through it anyway.
Xalbia will test you mentally and spiritually as well. ”
Talon reappeared carrying a wooden barrel, which he then placed in the center of the stretch of grass. He removed the lid and pulled out something that made my jaw drop.
Was that … was that a golden apple?
“There is one of these for each of you right here in this barrel,” said Keyes. “They’re coated in ichor.”
Ah, the liquid power of the gods.
“They will cause your latent abilities to surface,” Keyes explained. “It may take days, even weeks, but they’ll come to you. All you have to do is consume the apple.”
Talon dropped it back into the barrel and lifted an Any questions? brow.
“Why are we being granted our abilities now rather than on joining the Black Tapestry?” asked Bevan.
“It is all part of weeding out the weak,” Ajax explained. “Because let me tell you, there will be nothing easy about ingesting the ichor, let alone handling the surfacing of whatever abilities lie dormant in your system.”
“What happens to us if we pull out of Xalbia?” asked a female Nemean candidate.
“You enter into basic servitude,” Vesper told her, dispassionate.
“At that point, the Sovereigns will again make your power latent.” She paused, sweeping her gaze over every candidate.
“You can choose to bow out here and now. You don’t have to try for a place in the Order.
But if you do leave, don’t come back looking for another chance—there’s no room for quitters in the Tapestry. ”
When no one expressed an interest in bowing out, Talon turned to Keyes and flicked a look from him to the barrel. Obligingly, the Marshall lifted it and then made his way toward the nearest candidate.
“Each of you take an apple, but no one bite into it just yet,” Ajax ordered.
I watched as Keyes carried the barrel from person to person, allowing them each to snatch a piece of fruit.
“The Sayer isn’t going to get through this,” an unfamiliar voice stated from somewhere behind me.
“I strongly disagree,” said Khalida. “She’s got more to lose than anybody here.”
Just then, Keyes appeared in front of me. I reached into the barrel, took an apple, and studied it closely. Aside from the gold coating, it looked like a normal apple. Felt like a normal apple. Even smelled like one.
I wasn’t certain that I had any latent power, but eating the apple surely wouldn’t do me any harm. Right?
Actually, I couldn’t say. I’d never heard of humans being given ichor before. There was a chance that my system would regurgitate it.
My scalp prickling with the awareness that I was being watched, I automatically looked up. Talon stood with his feet planted, his arms folded, and his eyes on me.
My pulse spiked and my gut did an excited little twist. Which was not fair. Because there was no sexual interest in his gaze, only a sense of detached curiosity.
Ignoring how my system so enthusiastically responded to the sight of him, I returned my focus to Keyes just as he set down the empty barrel.
“Eat,” Ajax called out. “Leave only the core.”
I bit into my apple and, oh God, it tasted divine. Fresh. Juicy. Sweet. Addictive.
I chewed and chewed, but then paused … because the taste changed. Turned sour. Dry. Rotten. And all-out disgusting.
I balked, my belly rolling.
Now I understood what the buckets were for.
“You don’t have to eat it all,” said Ajax, speaking to no one in particular. “You can quit. You can spit out the food. But then you won’t become one of us.”
Which wouldn’t bother me. But being in the hands of the Sovereigns would. So I kept chewing. Balked again. Resumed chewing. The piece of apple went down hard and sat like lead in my stomach.
I stared down at the fruit in my hand, hesitating.
Don’t think about it, don’t think about it, just eat.
I sank my teeth into it again. The burst of divine sensation came first but, like before, it quickly turned repulsive. It didn’t taste of decaying fruit this time, though. It tasted like rancid meat.
Forcing myself to ignore the churning in my stomach, I chewed. I went somewhere else in my head, thinking about my mother; remembering her smile, her laugh, her smell.
And I ate.
I thought about my father. About his beautiful sketches, his rugged face, his terrible jokes.
And I ate.
I thought about my fellow acolytes; mentally went step-by-step through some of our rituals.
And I ate.
A retching sound cut into my thoughts. My stomach tightened. There was another retch, and then the splatter of liquid hitting metal.
Ignore it, ignore it.
I took another bite of the apple, again letting my mind drift, thinking of nothing and everything. Phoenixia, the weather, Reaper’s Pines, my new boots—
The most godawful, putrid taste sliced through my thoughts, yanking me out of my daze. Raw fish coated in urine.
My belly roiled and twisted, and I could swear bile tried crawling up my throat. I locked my teeth, determined not to spew.
Giving my stomach a chance to settle a little, I breathed in. Out. In. Out—
The person beside me shot forward in their seat and heaved, vomit fairly exploding out of their mouth.
Smelling it, I squeezed my eyes shut as my belly rebelled yet again.
The fact that I likely didn’t have dormant power made the whole thing more infuriating.
Because, aside from how I couldn’t afford to fail for obvious reasons, I was otherwise enduring this for nothing.
Sweat beading my forehead and upper lip, I chewed what was left in my mouth and then took another bite. Again, I dissociated, my thoughts landing on Talon. I let questions roam around my brain …
Why didn’t he speak? What exactly did the Sovereigns do to him as a child? What did he look like in his dragon form? Did he hate wearing human skin?
All the while, I ate.
But then it happened—I tasted actual, honest-to-gods’ shit.
Yeah, I gagged, almost dropping the fruit. It was only then I noticed that my hands were tremoring.
I also noticed that I was almost finished. I had to take only one more bite. If I could finish what was already in my mouth.
“Don’t stop now, Anara, you got this!” Khalida shouted.
Other voices were shouting words of encouragement, too. Some at me, some at others. Beneath that were the sounds of hurling, sobbing, whimpering, spitting, and swearing.
You’re almost done.
Yes, I was. But … I couldn’t dissociate this time as I chewed, couldn’t distance myself from the taste—it was just so utterly sickening that it clung to my attention.
It’s not real, you’re not eating shit, it’s just fruit.
I told myself that over and over, forcing myself to chew and chew. Somehow, some way, I managed to swallow what was left in my mouth.
One last bite, come on, do it.