Chapter 20
Charisma
My heart pounded almost as fast as my feet ran.
I didn’t stick around for that savage man to count further—my boots collided with the muddy ground in an unbroken rhythm, muck splashing on my pants with each step I took.
It was futile to wonder why Draven would want to torment me when it was so blindingly obvious: for pleasure.
The harpies laughed and laughed as I raced between them, but I paid them no mind, doing my best to stay within the center of the paths and out of their reach.
When I came to an intersection, I didn’t hesitate and went right.
Even stopping to consider the probability of the next road being a dead end would cost me time. And perhaps more if he found me.
Sweat prickled on my forehead, and the beads swept off in the air as I flew through the maze, picking myself up off the ground when I slipped at a corner.
The dirt splattered onto my face, and I wiped the mud, a thick, gritty paste, from my cheeks, feeling the persistent thump of the earth against the soles of my feet.
My breath became ragged, but that didn’t worry me.
It was as if I was doing my morning run, navigating the winding roads of the village, each one leading to a blind alley.
Except this wasn’t a morning run. This was a hunt. And I was the prey.
The hairs on my neck prickled, a chill snaking down my spine as I pictured Draven behind me. With gritted teeth, I pumped my legs, the ground blurring beneath my feet.
Where was he? It had been more than ten seconds since I had started the trial.
A curse burst past my lips, a lengthy and creative string of profanities aimed at every deity and individual I could bring to mind as I nearly dove into a wall of creatures. My boots screeched on the soil, pushing a pile of sludge in their trail.
Clack. Clack. Clack.
With a surge of adrenaline, I pressed into my heels, narrowly escaping the eager claws by a hair’s width. The beast screamed and snapped, its arm lunging to grab my face, but I dodged the hit, my head jerking back. A grunt escaped me as I landed with a thud from the movement.
Nasty, hideous, cruel creatures.
I pushed my hands into the ground and twisted my body upward, taking off to the other side. My teeth nibbled at my bottom lip.
Damn the trials. Damn the gods. Damn Draven. There was still no sign of him, but perhaps the gods had done me a favor, and he was being eaten alive at this very moment.
At the intersection where I took the wrong path, I paused.
Was there a way to know the right direction?
My brows furrowed in thought, and my eyes searched for a clue—a change in the wall’s placement, anything.
For a moment, I was so engrossed in seeing something that I forgot how important my ears were.
Then, a scarce difference in sound made a bell go off inside my mind.
On the road that led to a dead end, the harpies were more vociferous, snarling and roaring with anticipation, while the other route was calmer, more expectant.
Though inadequate for the circumstance, a smile stretched across my lips as I followed the right pathway.
Let’s see how Draven can catch up with me now.
Surely I was well ahead of everyone, but what would happen when I reached the finish line without my assigned weapon? Would they strike me down? Or would it matter as long as I passed the maze?
It occurred to me I had no idea who held Eros’s bow and arrows, thanks to Draven, who had me in a blind panic before I could even collect my thoughts.
My thoughts came to a halt. The crunch of footsteps made my heart leap into my throat. I listened. Soft, even steps. Draven was either taking his sweet time getting to me or the nearest contestant was a girl.
“Ooop!” The voice—a woman’s—squealed right behind me.
I turned around, my long braid slapping on my back. “Verena?”
She bent over, placing her hands on her knees. Verena gasped for air, and it was then that my eyes caught the glint of steel on her back. Hades’ bident. Was the God of the Underworld her god? It made sense. But how did she acquire it so quickly?
When Verena straightened her back, she must’ve sensed the question or perhaps it was written all over my face. “Adam gave it to me.” She shrugged. “He said there was no use for him to have it as he’ll . . . you know . . . die. We’d better get going or he’ll find you eventually.”
I nodded, and we started off.
A plan began to form in my head. Though the gods never revealed the consequences of appearing without a weapon, I wasn’t willing to take that risk—even if Draven was on my tail, urging me to do so.
I had to face him one way or another. But it had to be on my terms. Not his.
Verena trailed behind me. “What’s between you and Draven?”
“Ask him, but if you ask me, he’s too much like his creator. The bastard.” I stole a glance at Verena, the huff dying on my tongue, as I realized the previously loud sounds had become a distant hum.
Could it . . .
“You’re certain you’re Hades’ error?”
“Oh, yeah. Trust me, the riddle was very specific.”
“How do you feel about harpies?” I expected to find horror lurking in her eyes at the mention of the evil animals, but instead, they softened.
“They are just creatures. I bet they never feed them just for the sake of this game. Wouldn’t you want to tear me apart if you were starving?”
As I winced, I thought the serious expression on Verena’s face was worse than her words. “No. That’s cannibalism.”
“The harpies are half women.”
Of course I knew that, but the knowledge only made my body shake even harder. “Look,” I began, trying to push the image that crawled into my mind aside. “I need your help, and I know it won’t come for free, but I don’t care. I promise I’ll owe you a favor in the next game if we make it out alive.”
Verena watched me with squinted eyes. “What do you need me to do?”
My plan was merely based on an unfounded theory, but when Verena extended her palm toward a harpy at a crossroads and instead of snarling or biting her hand off, it pushed—pushed—its head into her fingers, I knew I had been right.
The creatures originated from the Underworld—Hades’ kingdom—and since Verena was a creation of his own and a part of his magic lived within her, there was a small probability that they’d yield under her touch.
I wanted to fly home and kiss my mother for what she had taught me.
“How did you know?” Verena whispered, patting the head of a beast. It made a sound that resembled . . . purring?
I shook my head. “I didn’t. It was just a guess.”
Verena’s eyes snapped to me. “What if they had bit me?”
“I would’ve known.”
“How?”
“Well, when I hit a dead end, they were ready to shred me to pieces, but when you joined me, they seemed almost . . . tame.”
A moment of silence passed between the two of us as Verena kept caressing the harpies as if they were her pets, mumbling about how good they were.
I watched her with a grimace. Then after allowing her a longer moment to befriend the beasts, I spoke.
“Ready?”
Verena nodded. “Ready.”
My foot tapped a frantic rhythm against the gritty ground; my unwavering gaze fixed on a shadowy corner. I held my breath, the air thick with anticipation, each blink a potential betrayal, a missed glimpse of Draven’s arrival.
The damp air clung to me like a second skin, the soil trembling under me.
I bent my knees, sensing the approach of someone.
Then, a whirlwind of limbs blurred past us, a flash of blue hair the only clue that it was Riley.
I let out a breath of relief, the tension leaving my shoulders with a visible sigh.
“Are you all right in there?”
A muffled sound escaped from between the harpies.
“I’m all right!” Verena shouted. “It’s kinda cozy in here.
” Amid the animals, she was undetectable by human eyes, completely hidden underneath the shifting feathers.
The creatures seemed to understand their mission.
They were guardians, a living shield around Verena.
The thought did nothing to ease my discomfort, and neither did hearing Verena saying she was cozy underneath the volatile group.
“They are coming!” Verena called to me, passing along information from the ghost she was always talking to—Reed was his name.
I shivered at the words, a subtle reminder that my life wasn’t the only one at stake.
Not once in my life, not even in my rarest dreams, did I imagine I’d be interacting with a dead person.
Not that I spoke directly to Reed, but Verena said he had offered to help, and I awkwardly thanked a space in the air before Hades’ error.
Verena, with a wave of her hand, had indicated the space where Reed actually stood.
I frowned. They?
Before I could consider who Draven’s companion could be, he stepped past the corner, his lips lifting into a wicked smile.
Under the weight of his palm, Dionysus’s staff broke through the mud’s surface.
Footsteps, sloppy and uneven, reached my ears before a man walked up behind Draven, avoiding my gaze at all costs.
Fists clenched at my sides, I kept my chin high.
I would be lying if I said I wasn’t surprised to see him standing beside Draven, the man who arbitrarily decided I was deserving of his hatred.
The truth was, I never thought he would be the one to stab me in the back.
Could it be because I had wanted to trust him?
No, I wouldn’t be that naive. Maybe I assumed he lacked the balls to go through with it.
I underestimated him. Yes, that seemed more like it.
The idea of being betrayed during the trials didn’t surprise me—I knew we would all turn against each other at one point—but it didn’t sting any less to witness it firsthand. Not when it happened this early in the game.