74. Rorax
The little island sat approximately one hundred yards off the coastline, and from what Rorax could see there was only one building on it. Even from the shore she could see the golden dome on the top gleaming in the sun.
Rorax wished the building would catch fire and burn to flames.
She kept her eyes on that little structure as the Guardian erected a barrier between the bystanders who had come to watch the trial, and the Contestars milling around on the beach. Her stomach rolled violently, and she gritted her teeth to keep from projectile vomiting all over the sand.
Milla and Ayres had both petitioned the Guardian for an extension on the trial considering Rorax had been poisoned the day before, but it was no use.
“She competes or she dies,” the Guardian told them.
Now Rorax’s only goals were to live through the trial and try not to hurl so much that she drowned herself in the process. No one except the Guardian and her men knew what they would have to do once they arrived on that tiny, gods forsaken island, but Rorax’s primary objective at this point was to survive the swim. She could figure out the rest later.
Red sparks erupted in the air, and the Contestars made a mad dash to the beach.
Rorax slowly jogged to the surf and dove in. Gods, the sea felt good against her skin as she ducked under a mid-sized wave and started to drag herself through the water with sluggish strokes.
Briar stroked past Rorax; the lithe blonde looked comfortable in the waves, slicing through the water like a gods-damned mermaid.
Despite the salty water, Rorax forced her eyes open. Ayres had sent Kaiya into the village close to the castle yesterday and gathered intel for Rorax as she lay recovering from the poison attempt. The bay was notorious for having aggressive sharks, and they’d found out the civilians there had been feeding them, trying to gather the sharks closer to the shore where the Contestars would be. She needed to be able to see an oncoming attack. Rorax might be able to fend off one or even two sharks, but no more. Not in her current state.
Her stomach rolled violently, but Rorax was able to hold it down until she reached the sands of the island before emptying her stomach onto the sand.
When she finally looked up from her hands and knees, the other Contestars were already up and sprinting to the small, white circular building with the gleaming golden dome.
“Fuck,” Rorax muttered, pushing off on unsteady legs after them. She tripped more than once, the skin on her palms ripping open on the sharp rocks.
Briar and Mo made it to the building first, yanking open the white double doorway into the building. The rest of the Contestars followed them inside and disappeared into the dark.
The golden dome gleamed, almost blinding Rorax as she moved towards it. At the top of the dome sat a lightning rod with a tiny carved rooster on top, its head twisted around to look down at her, its plumes on the backend high and golden. The rooster was the of the sigil of Midhurst. This must be an old ruin dedicated to their gods.
Rorax flipped the rooster off as she half jogged, half stumbled after the others, pushing herself to move faster across the rocks.
The doors were a plain whitewashed wood, and the entryway was surrounded by an intricately carved stone doorframe. Rorax flinched as the cuts on her palm seared hot when she grabbed the doorknob. She jerked the door open, leaving a bloody handprint on the white wooden door as she slipped inside.
The other Contestars hadn’t made it very far.
Rorax sucked in a breath, and her eyes went wide in wonder as she took in the interior.
Golden mirrors with intricate bejeweled frames hung on the walls of the building. About ten feet inside was another door, a rounded gate that had golden figures, symbols, words, and witch-wards carved into the surface. It was the most intricately carved piece of art Rorax had ever seen, and it too appeared to be made of solid gold.
None of the other girls seemed to feel the same sense of awe as Rorax. They were already arguing with each other about what to do next.
Stella reached out to touch one of the sculptures, but Mo slapped her hand away. “Don’t touch that. I can feel . . . something.”
“Just have Isgra melt the damn door,” Briar hissed up at Mo, getting in her face and standing toe to toe with her. Mo glowered down at Briar with equal ferocity, her hands curling and uncurling into fists.
Isgra snorted from where she stood, watching the two women’s standoff with amusement. “Are you two going to stare each other to death?” she asked sarcastically. “Even I couldn’t melt this door down. I’d need the Guardian’s power to do it.”
Stella stepped back from the rose she’d been about to touch and focused on the metal barrier in front of her before chewing into her lips. “I couldn’t bend it, it’s just too thick.”
“You shouldn’t try either,” Enna mumbled. “This is a temple. Most of the metal here has probably been heavily warded against raiders.”
Rorax took a few silent steps inside until she was directly behind the group. The door had to be ancient, likely over fifteen hundred years old.
The figures were in the old Midhurst style: two-dimensional, full body figures with crow’s heads. The swirled script of an ancient language was carved into the background behind the figures. This area had been part of the Midhurst territory before Lyondrea claimed it during the Breach over three hundred years ago.
Mo snarled, her upper lip curling up over her teeth. “Can any of you read what the door says?” Her dark eyes landed on Rorax, and her snarl turned into a sneer. “What about you, Pup?”
Rorax contemplated feeding Mo her teeth, her eyes dragging up and down the Contestar sharply until Mo shifted away from Rorax and turned back to the door.
Rorax looked up at the largest figurine of a massive crow skull in the center, sitting at the very top of the arched door. The sockets seemed to bare down into her soul, and a shiver rolled down her spine.
She ignored Mo and turned to Stella. “Search the door and look for two things. Can you recognize any of the witch-wards in place here? And can you tell if every figurine is warded or just some?”
Stella nodded once and began to comb over the door, looking for wards. Rorax turned to Mo, who was from House of Alloy. “Can you feel what’s on the other side of the door? Any more metal?”
Mo glared at Rorax, then shifted uncomfortably and finally closed her eyes. “There’s a shelf beyond this. I can’t see what’s on it, but . . . A shelf. The door must be protecting whatever’s on it. I can’t use my magick on it, it must be blessed.”
Rorax nodded as Mo finished her examination of the door.
“Done,” Stella huffed, wiping the sweat off her forehead. “Enna was right, we shouldn’t touch anything on the wall except for the snake in the middle.”
She pointed to the center of the door, where a tiny little garden snake lay under a row of golden roses. Rorax reached out to the little snake hesitantly. According to Stella only this little carving was safe, but how much did she trust Stella?
Maybe it was a handle or a knocker—
Rorax had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from screaming when the metallic snake’s golden body animated itself. It lunged out and coiled its long body around her wrist. Rorax tried to yank her arm back to safety, but the tiny snake was much stronger than it looked. It forced her wrist around until her hand was palm up. With its tiny golden head, it leaned forward and flicked its little tongue across Rorax’s blood, still wet on her skin from where she’d fallen on the rocks on the beach.
Rorax felt a rush in her head, and before she could scream her eyes rolled back and she was thrown into a vision.
Wherever she was, it was bright. She looked around, and realized she was in a field of amber wheat.
Rorax looked up and yelped, then fell back on her ass as a huge snake towered over her, its pink tongue as long as her forearm tasting the air.
Rorax scooted back on her hands, sweat breaking out over her forehead, her heart thumping furiously in her chest. The snake considered her with one golden eye, the vertical slit dilating as it took her in.
“You are unlllike any of the Contestarsss before,” it observed.
The voice trailed down Rorax’s spine, and she shivered as the snake moved its giant head around, taking in the empty field of tall wheat grass around them. “It’sss comfortable in here, in your mind . . . very roomy.”
It was in her head? And what did it mean, there was a lot of room in there?
Rorax shuffled back a couple more feet before standing on unsteady legs.
The snake could swallow her in one bite, or one of its fangs could puncture all the way through her chest twice over and there would be nothing she could do.
“I’m . . . glad you like it,” Rorax rasped, wiping her sweaty hands on her pants. “Make yourself comfortable . . . but not too comfortable.”
The snake hissed in what Rorax prayed was a snake laugh and not the sound of hunger.
“The air tastesss . . . like Ssshadowbell. Were you poisssoned?” The snake tilted its head as its tongue tasted the air around her again.
Rorax grimaced and nodded.
“I can sssmell that you have sssomething unsssavory in your sssystem.” The snake shook its head and focused on her again. “Take the coin back to the Guardian and take the necklaccce on the ssshelf. It will help you with your transssfer of power. Look for the tablesss for the transssfer. Prepare yourssself for the war. Dessspite your missstakesss, the godsss ssstill chossse you to fight, Roraxxx Greywood.”
Before Rorax could ask any questions, or even blink, her head rushed once more and then she was standing in front of the golden wall once again.
The little garden snake took a few more licks of her blood, before it raised its head and winked at her.
It looked over at the rest of the girls, standing there gawking.
It unwrapped slowly from Rorax’s wrist, and when none of the other Contestars moved forward, it solidified into the carving once more.
“That was disgusting,” Briar shivered, eyeing the snake like she was afraid it might reach out and lick her, too.
There was a loud groan, like bending metal, and the door slowly creaked open, sliding to the side on ancient hinges.
Just as Mo had told them, behind the door was a wall lined with golden shelves. The giant door had been protecting nothing more than a closet.
Rorax sucked in a breath. Lining the shelves were golden coins with snakeheads stamped on one side. Rorax had a sneaking suspicion a rooster would be stamped on the other side. The snake and the rooster were on the Midhurst crest.
“Mo? Any enchantments?”
The girl’s eyes went unfocused for a split second before she shook her head. “I don’t think so.”
The doorway wasn’t wide enough for more than one person at a time, so Rorax took a step forward and picked up a coin.
The coin felt heavy in her hand.
A snake’s voice tickled at the back of her head. The necklaccce, take the necklaccce, Contessstar.
Rorax blinked down at the coin in her palm a few times before looking up. On the top shelf there was a golden necklace. It looked like a sun burst, no bigger than one of the golden coins.
Take it.
Swallowing hard, Rorax reached out and grabbed the necklace from the top shelf.
“Hey,” Lily barked. “That’s the only one on the shelf.”
Lily took a step toward the door frame and a strong wind burst out from the room, forcing Lily back a step.
“Oh, fantastic, Lily, will ya look at what you’ve done!” Briar pointed a finger over to the entrance to where the two golden mirrors hung. The mirrors were dripping, like molten gold down the wall, where they gathered in a puddle. When there was no more molten gold flowing down, two robed and golden warriors rose from the pools of metal. Two priests, with metallic golden robes covering their faces and long staffs. One of them approached and swung its golden staff at Lily. With a loud crack, the staff caught Lily on the back and flung her into the air hard enough that her head cracked against the wall. She collapsed in a heap on the floor and the other Contestars scrambled back, getting well out of the way of the golden priest.
“Ta ei pakkunud oma verd,” the figure growled. It stood over Lily, its staff pointing down at her still form.
The other figure stepped closer to Rorax and pointed at her with a bony, metal finger. It then pointed at the door, motioning for her to step out of the tiny room. Rorax stepped away from the shelf, and the wall slid back into place behind her. The figure pressed its staff against Rorax’s shoulders and pushed, forcing her toward the entrance. Her eyes snapped up to Enna’s.
Verd.The Guard who’d attacked Lily had said, “Ta ei pakkunud oma verd.”
She didn’t know what the rest of it meant, but verd meant blood in the ancient language of the very first Gifted. Rorax now thanked the gods for the countless hours she’d spent in the library and for Radashan’s seemingly pointless books.
“Rorax!” Enna cried. She tried to get closer, but the figurine herding her to the door swatted away, the sound of bone against metal loud.
“Blood,” Rorax hissed to the brunette over her shoulder as the guard pushed her towards the entrance. “Let the snake taste a drop of your blood!”
Almost as one, the remaining Contestars leaped forward, bringing their knives out to give an offering to the snake. Enna gave her one more fearful glance as the guard threw Rorax out and slammed the door behind her.
She tucked the necklace and the coin into her pocket and took off running as fast as her legs could go. If Lily died and triggered an influx, it would be a bloodbath in that room, and Rorax had her Glimr strapped to her back. She needed to get herself as far away as possible from the other Contestars.
Rorax only tripped twice on her way back to the ocean. The first time she avoided falling on her hands, but the second time she ripped her palms open again. She cried out, taking a deep breath before she pushed herself up; blood dripped down her fingers. When she dove into the water, the cuts on her palms stung from the salt, but the water felt incredible against her overheated skin.
Rorax again kept her eyes open as she began stroking through the water. The waters were not nearly as empty as when she’d swam out to the island.
A dark figure streaked past her on the ocean floor below, and she shrieked in her throat, but nothing came past her again. There were a few more shapes as she paddled by, but thankfully nothing approached her.
Rorax had never been so happy to feel sand under her feet as she did the moment she reached the beach. Her toes scraped across the granules, and relief washed over her so intensely she wanted to cry.
She pushed herself up from the bottom and half jogged, half walked to where the crowd waited for the Contestars’ arrival back on the beach. The Guardian stood in front of the crowd, amusement glittering in her dark gaze as she held her hand out. “Did you bring my prize?”
Rorax fished the dripping coin out of her back pocket and dropped it into the Guardian’s palm.
The Guardian grimaced, took a white handkerchief to dry off the coin, and held it up to the light, flipping it over between the snake and rooster head.
The coin then vanished from between the Guardian’s fingers, and Rorax’s chest seized. Was she going to have to go back to get another coin?
The Guardian gave her a soft little smile. “Your trial is complete; Majauss has called her coin back. Take a seat while we wait for the others.”