16
Deep in the night while August sleeps, I slip across his sand path to mine and walk behind my oikos.
The sea laps at the rocks upon which the tiny island was built.
I grab the rope I’ve tied around the base of one of the less conspicuous boulders and reel in my spear, careful not to catch it on the rocks or disturb any of the monsters Ares installed to guard us.
Even in the silvery moonlight, the gold gleams. I hurry back to August’s and slide the weapon beneath his bed before removing my prosthesis and stretching back out beside him.
I need to rest. To sleep. But no matter how I try to quiet my mind, my thoughts won’t settle. I roll over onto my back and consider what this trial might entail, thanks in part to the Greek Elias, whose colorful imagination this evening sparked horrors in my mind.
The closest window is open and the cool sea breeze brushes over my heated skin.
How far away is dawn?
I imagine Torsten waiting on the stairs leading to the temple, ready to fight and rob whoever he can as we arrive. If he still needs a weapon, he’ll try to claim one today.
Considering the scant pile of clothes the bastard didn’t shred, I’m not even sure what I’ll wear.
August stretches and rolls over, his eyes lazily blinking open. He glances out the window where the stars wink back. His tired stare finds me. “Can’t sleep?”
“Not for lack of trying,” I sigh, eliciting a raspy chuckle from him.
August yawns and arches his back.
I sit up and toss the blanket off. I roll my sheath on, bringing my prosthesis to meet the pin. Daedalus’s magic wraps around my skin, warming it.
August sits up and scrubs his face with both hands. His golden hair is a mess.
“I’m sorry I woke you up.”
He shrugs. “It’s almost time to wake up, anyway.”
I thought so, but… “How can you tell?”
“That star.” He points out the window. He yawns again and explains how the time of day can be observed by the way it arcs across the sky this time of year.
A pinch of heartache. Carina would have known that, too.
I wish I would’ve paid closer attention to the things she loved and tried to love them, too. I wish it wasn’t too late to learn them now.
August heads to the bathing room. While he’s busy, I examine my outfit options… which are sparse and not ideal in the least.
I finally pull on a gauzy ivory skirt that cinches at my waist and stretches to mid-thigh, and a cotton tank top, electing to go barefoot again. It worked well enough for me in the first trial.
Which means Ares will probably have us walking across glass in this one.
August emerges more awake. His damp hair is combed, his face freshly scrubbed and shaved. His stare slips to the sliver of exposed skin at my stomach, before he walks over to his trunk and pulls out a pair of white shorts and a tee shirt.
I look down at my legs, silently cursing Torsten for shredding the bodysuit that would’ve offered more protection. This outfit, and another that’s much like it, are all I have left, thanks to him.
Aymes steps away to get dressed, and when he’s finished, he walks over to the window and braces his hands on the sill, dropping his head.
Giving him space, I step into the bathing room to see to my needs, scrub my face, brush my teeth, and braid my hair down the back of my head and into a thick rope that reaches the small of my back. I tug two pieces out, binding my feathers to the strands with scraps of torn linen.
Their green edges graze my collar bones.
A horn sounds from the temple on the hilltop. I glance at the window. The sun hasn’t risen, but the horn means it’s time to start the ascent.
I take my spear from under August’s bed and meet him outside. Our eyes collide and in them, we speak a thousand unspoken things.
We’re allies. We’ll fight together. We both need to survive. We can win.
We cross the sand path, our strides aligning at the shore, and take the stairs to every landing until we crest the hill, striding into the temple before anyone else. The portal at the bottom of the short stairwell isn’t active, so we wait.
Ulani and Vailea arrive next, hand in hand, wearing fighting leathers. Ulani’s is bronze with aqua accents. He clasps a golden trident; Vailea, in white, holds a long, thin sword. They come to stand with us.
Ulani leans in. “We’ve been advised that having a group today will give us an advantage. Will you join us?”
August tells them that we’ve also agreed to ally with Koda, Niall, and Elias.
The couple confers, and while neither of them likes Elias, they agree to the team – for this trial, at least.
My skin crawls when the horn blasts again from atop the temple. What are we about to endure?
Other contestants clad in white trickle in, forming their own large team nearby.
Niall and Elias enter the temple with Koda between them. Draped in Anansi’s blood red, Koda struggles to catch his breath after the climb.
Will we be able to protect him today?
From the opposite side of the temple, Torsten plows into the room wearing Freyja’s heavy, feathered cloak and expectations on his back. He has plaited his hair from crown to end and smeared ash all around his eyes like Freyja wore when she claimed him.
“That’s Hazi,” Koda whispers to us as another man strides in. “He’s been championed by Erra.”
My brows rise at the mention of the Mesopotamian god of war. He’s known for his cruelty, violence, and for the plagues he enjoys inflicting on mortals.
Hazi’s features are stern and focused. His head is clean shaven. His dark beard trimmed. His body is muscled and draped in deep purple with a leather baldric and a curved, golden blade tucked safely against his chest.
Veronia’s silken brown hair swishes behind her as she walks across the stone to stand with Hazi and Torsten, her stride long and proud. Clad in bitterness and lavender hunting leathers, she sneers at our group as she leans in to whisper something to Torsten right as a middle-aged man joins them.
“And that is Kallik. He’s championed by Nanook of the Inuit pantheon,” Koda reveals.
Kallik’s sable eyes are as cold as the icy realm Nanook made for his people. He’s dressed in brown wool; a fox pelt stretches over his shoulders. He’s not broad like Torsten; his build is lean and lithe. As he studies the other contestants, I wonder if he’s as sly as the animal whose hide he wears.
A vicious smile spreads over Torsten’s face when he spies my spear, then Ulani’s trident and Vailea’s sword. He moves his cloak to reveal a golden broadsword on his side.
Who’d he steal that from?
Satisfaction blossoms in my chest when Torsten comes close enough for me to enjoy seeing the scabbed laceration on the bridge of his swollen nose, and a crooked deviation he didn’t have when he crawled out of the hole.
I was wrong. The Norseman isn’t wearing ash at all. Days have passed and his eyes are still blackened, with bruises that have seeped beneath his eyes and onto his cheeks.
Taeniset, Isis’s mortal, arrives wearing delicate golden armor.
She doesn’t join the group of champions, or the larger team in white, but walks to a petite young woman who must be the chosen of Susanoo.
Her kimono bears the wave pattern he wore on his clothing last night at the feast. I swear his storm rests in her gray eyes.
“That’s Akira Hoshino,” Niall informs us. “I don’t know who her champion is.”
“Susanoo,” August and I provide at the same time.
All chatter and scheming ceases when a gust of wind tears across the space, ushering Ares into the temple, his red cape snapping. He stops and gestures to the staircase and the portal comes alive. Its golden glow chases the shadows from the sunken steps.
“For the second trial, you may compete individually or with a group. If you elect to go with a team, hold hands as you cross through and the portal will carry you into the trial together.”
No other rules or advice is given, though everyone waits for a moment to be sure he won’t say something of value.
The god of war smirks. “You may begin.”
Torsten waves for his team to follow him down first. They gather at the bottom and push through together.
Taeniset and Akira jog down the steps, clasping hands before stepping through.
The large group of unchampioned takes to the stairs and enters the trial.
August throws a kiss into the air like the superstition might save us, then turns to me. “We can win.”
I try to smile, ignoring the nervous throbbing of my heart. “We can win.”
Ulani and Vailea volunteer to lead, taking the steps and pausing at the bottom to wait for the rest of us. August and I look at Koda, but Niall and Elias are prepared to help him or even carry him if necessary.
My fingers tighten around the spear.
Torsten and the others might be waiting for us on the other side. That’s probably why they went first. I saw how he looked at our weapons. He’ll try to take them.
My heart thunders as Ulani suggests that Niall, Elias, and Koda pass through after them and for August and me to be right on their heels, spear ready – for whatever lies beyond the glimmering portal.
With a plan in place, we move in front of the swirling miasma of gold. When Ulani and Vailea disappear, Niall and Elias usher Koda through. August’s eyes meet mine as we walk forward together.
No sky. No wind. No mirrored ground here.
It’s so dark, my eyes struggle to adjust. Our ragged, panicked breaths are the only sound.
I…this can’t be real.
My mind drags me, fingernails breaking as I try to stop it, to another time. Another day. To a dank hole that looked like this.
Niall’s voice thins. “What is this place?” He extends his arms and reaches out to touch the tall walls encasing us.
I reach out and do the same. The stone is slick with moisture and the air is stifling, so humid and hot my skin turns sticky.
“We’re in some sort of long corridor,” Elias says. Something winged swoops over our heads and we collectively duck. Niall hisses a curse, frantically swiping his hair to be sure nothing is stuck in it.