Chapter 25
“BIRD.”
I startle awake. The room is swathed in darkness, yet a large form looms over me. My heartbeat spikes, and I recoil, hands lifting to protect my face. The voice comes again, breaking through the heavy fog of lingering slumber. “Steady, bird.”
That rough, growling resonance pierces the haze. I sag onto the ground, scooped hollow of feeling. Lady Clarisse is not here. She is far from the City of Gods, back in St. Laurent.
Eurus tugs the cloak away from my face, peering down at me in concern. I blink rapidly in the brightness. Daylight. A cave. The third trial.
Slowly, I sit up, my bones creaking in protest. “How long was I asleep for?”
“A few hours. I thought it better to let you rest.” He cradles my cheek in one large hand, searching my eyes. He has donned his now-dry shirt and trousers, black hair disheveled. The fire has burned to coals.
Heat climbs my face, and I pull away. “Sorry,” I murmur. “I thought y-y-you were someone else.”
His eyes are too grave. He knows. Of course he does. We are two sides of a single dented coin, one mortal, the other divine.
“How are you feeling?” I murmur, noticing the tremor in his hand. “Cold?”
The sweep of his thumb along my jawbone speaks of how far he has come, this immortal who once refused touch of any kind. “There is a chill in my bloodstream,” he says. “I can feel it moving toward my heart. My legs… they grow weak.”
Deep breath. This is not the end. Not yet, anyway. “What of your power?”
He releases a small sphere of air. It is unable to hold its shape for long. “Still there, but it wanes.”
As I expected. “We should keep moving. Seek out higher ground. We’ll have a better idea of the arena’s layout that way.” And hopefully spot some of the remaining competitors, if the Mother of Earth wills it.
I’m moving toward the cave entrance when the East Wind grabs my forearm, faster than I believed was possible. “Wait.”
He tilts his head, listening. I am motionless, my awareness of our surroundings coming into sharper focus. The scent of crushed leaves and loam swells inside my nostrils.
“Someone approaches,” he murmurs.
A blink, and he scoops me into his arms, darting to the rear of the cave. He pulls me into a tight nook, between his thighs. The dark folds of his wings act as a shield against the shadows collecting at our backs.
“What is it?” I murmur into his ear. This close, I expect the heat of his body to blanket my side, but he shivers, his muscles contracting incessantly in an attempt to pull warmth back into his limbs.
“I can’t be sure,” he says, the words oddly thick, “but it sounds like…” He swallows. “Stay here. I’m going to take a look.”
“What? No!” I snatch at his cloak with one clawed hand. “It’s not safe.”
“It won’t be for long.” He searches my eyes, and in their clouded depths I spot… something. It is unfamiliar in the way the sea is unfamiliar, wrapped in terror and awe both.
We come together. The kiss is sweet, yet brief. Eurus vanishes in the light beyond, moving far more quickly than I would expect from someone who has been poisoned.
I remain crouched in place, sweat trickling from my underarms. Round and round my thoughts spin. What to do? Should I stay here? Or perhaps I should go after him. But what if I endanger him further? No, best to stay safe. And small. And do nothing.
Nothing, I can do. Nothing, I am familiar with. And it is nothing that has gotten me into this mess. I have come far, haven’t I? Farther than I would have believed. As it is, I no longer wish to be someone who observes from afar.
Beyond the mouth of the cave, the sky is clear, untouched by clouds. The slope toward the river reveals the unbroken wood. Seeing as Eurus is too weak to fly, he would not have gotten far on foot.
As I follow his tracks downhill, an animal’s bellow erupts from across the river. Was that Eurus? Or another competitor? His footsteps end at the river bank. He must have crossed onto the other side.
A fallen tree offers a means to traverse the swiftly moving water.
Once I reach the opposite bank, I plow through a thicket of bramble.
The thorns are many. They draw blood with their pointed fingers, stinging kisses alighting on my cheeks and arms. I break into a clearing and slow, ears straining for sound.
A rustle to my left. I spin, snatching a fallen branch from the ground. Not that it will do any good against these immortals. And now I feel particularly foolish for having abandoned the safety of the cave.
There is a footstep. Another.
I lift the branch with both hands, braced for whatever emerges from the undergrowth.
It’s Arin.
The slender, dark-skinned god emerges into the dappled light. He carries his staff with its serpent-carved head. His clothes are torn, and scabs dot his arms and the side of his neck where a deep puncture wound oozes. I lift my pitiful weapon higher as he regards me in shock.
“Min? What—” But he shakes his head, scours the clearing, before his focus returns to me. “Where is he?”
As if I would tell him. “Gone.”
Staff raised, he steps forward. My pulse flutters a warning. “He’s not dead. The bell didn’t ring. So tell me, Min. Where is Eurus?”
“I just told you. Gone. I don’t know where he went.” And thank the Mother for that.
“You expect me to believe Eurus abandoned you?” Arin shakes his head. Gone are the easy smiles, the flirtatious nature. The sinuous motion of his hands reminds me of a snake. “I have never seen him so protective of anything, much less a woman.” Another step forward. “So where would he go?”
Sweat pours down my face as I am forced into retreat. My mind turns to numbers. The miles separating me from Eurus, how far I might be able to run before Arin catches me. If I scream, it will draw Eurus’ attention, and I want to avoid placing him in danger when he is weakened.
“Keep your distance,” I warn, hefting the branch higher. Leaves crunch beneath my feet, and my back hits a tree.
The curl of Arin’s mouth is a poor facsimile of a smile. “I don’t want to hurt you, Min, but I will, if you do not tell me where he went. Is he lying in wait? Injured?” I keep my expression neutral. “Tell me!”
I swing. Arin leaps nimbly out of the way. He lifts his staff, and I watch, horrified, as the eyes of the carved serpent begin to glow.
“Do you know what this staff does?” Before I can respond, he presses forward.
“It has the ability to draw strength from anyone it touches. For immortals, this means their power. But you? You haven’t any powers.
So it will draw from you your very essence of life.
” Round and round the staff twirls, Arin watching me all the while. “Is that what you want?”
What I want is to survive this day.
“Last chance,” Arin says.
Again, I swing. He dodges, darts in close, grasping my neck and slamming me back against the trunk.
The eyes of the snake capture mine. They glow liquid gold, and as I attempt to lash out, my limbs stiffen, curbed by some repressive force as something like acid pools in my lower belly. It sparks, catches fire. It burns.
A wild shriek cuts the air before I bite my tongue, my scream muffled as the pain gouges into my gut.
“Scream as loud as you wish,” he murmurs. “The sooner Eurus hears you, the faster he will come.”
The wrenching sensation sharpens. It feels like my ribs are being pried apart, my internal organs rearranged in uncomfortable ways. Say nothing. This is not the worst you have endured. My only hope is that Arin will decide to keep me alive as leverage against Eurus.
Another twist of his staff, and my knees buckle. Numbness consumes my fingertips, spreads up my arms. The pain erupts through my chest, and my cry crumbles. Mother of Earth, I plead. Help me.
“Is this a tea party?” croons an icy voice I don’t recognize. “Why did I not receive an invitation? You know I dearly love tea.”
Arin releases me. I collapse into a ball, shuddering. My ears are ringing, a high-pitched whistle burrowing straight through my temples like a thousand threads of white lightning. It takes a great effort to lift my head, and every slight motion washes my body in pain.
When the fog finally recedes, revealing who has stepped into the clearing, my stomach drops. One of the Fates.
This sister appears to have fought the forest and lost. Multiple lacerations mar her chest and arms where the fabric of her tunic has torn away.
She limps into the clearing, teeth bared. “Didn’t I tell you I would find you, Arin? Didn’t I promise your death would hurt?”
The goddess stumbles, but manages to catch herself against a tree, panting. “You think you can kill my sisters and get away with it?”
Her gaze then shifts to me. They are vacant, those eyes, like a hearth gone cold.
“And the mortal. Escaped the cave, did you?” As my heart stutters in comprehension, the Fate’s lips curl in satisfaction.
“My sisters and I thought your participation would be a delightful addition. But where is the East Wind, I wonder? Too focused on protecting his weak mortal to win?”
She sneers before returning her attention to Arin, who trips backward, staff raised. And as the Fate draws a dagger from her belt, I bolt in the opposite direction, Arin’s screams chasing me into the forest’s deep.
Miles later, my legs give out. I hit the ground, falling into a pile of damp leaves cloaking the forest floor. Rolling onto my back, I gaze up at the small breaks in the canopy. Sweat slicks my skin, and despite the climbing sun, the shade breeds frost.
I cannot run forever. I cannot hide forever. The longer I act as prey, the more I am convinced I will perish as such.