Chapter Three
Dante
"The madness came on suddenly, like a fever spiking overnight. One day, Eximius was my father. The next, he was a shell of the man he'd been. And no one ever knew why.”
— From The Official Record of House Viper, As Recorded by Atticus, Son of Eximius
My whole life had been spent in preparation. For the Trials, for religious ceremonies, for this moment right now. And yet, standing on the smooth marble floor beneath the dais of the Eleven, it became painfully obvious I'd fallen woefully short.
Kleio had brought me here immediately after whatever examination he'd conducted on me was complete. Now, he stood at the back of this enormous hall, shadowed in the corner, frowning as he kept his narrowed gaze upon the dais.
This great hall, crafted entirely of blinding white marble and shimmering gold, had likely played host to many meetings, Trials, and other such public spectacles if the seating within the carved balconies or littered beneath the giant, stained glass windows was any indication.
But now it was empty. No citizens of Pavos sat in the balcony.
None lingered on the sides of the room or near the door.
It was only me, Kleio, the Eleven, Deimos, and his sister, Callidora, upon the dais before us.
I tried and failed to convince myself that was a good sign rather than a bad omen.
I could feel the tension in the room even before Deimos rose from his throne.
Each of the Eleven kept their shrewd eyes narrowed upon me, particularly the hulking brute of a man at Deimos’ right side.
The beautiful woman on his left side, however, seemed to be the only one regarding me more as a curiosity than a threat.
I tucked that information away in my mind, hoping it might come in handy later.
“Welcome to Pavos, Dante of House Viper,” Deimos announced as he approached the edge of the dais.
He peered down at me without lowering his gaze the way one might glance down upon an insect.
His blonde hair fell in waves to his neck, a light spun gold much lighter than Adrian's hazel brown, I noticed, and cursed myself for it in the same moment.
Do not think of her, I warned myself, biting the inside of my cheek as a form of self-punishment the way I had since I was six years old and failed to surpass Olympia in our first race around the Mitte. Not here. Not now.
Icy blue eyes narrowed even further as if the Lord of the Geist could hear my thoughts. I blinked, shifting uncomfortably on my feet, not entirely certain he couldn’t.
“Thank you, Lord Deimos,” I responded the way Kleio had hurriedly advised me to on our trek through the palace’s many halls toward here. I bowed slightly and lowered my gaze in reverence.
“You've earned your place here, Viper,” Deimos said then, his cold gaze flicking over me from head to toe.
“As the heroes before you did and as those who come after you will.
By now, Kleio will have made you aware we're capable of viewing everything which happens within the Trials. Everything you do, everything you say.”
He narrowed his gaze and I fought the urge to shift on my feet. Adrian had been irreverent during the Trials. She'd cursed the very gods themselves, professed her disbelief throughout the whole ordeal, but had I? Suddenly, I couldn’t remember.
“You come from a proud and ancient lineage,” Deimos continued when it became clear I wouldn’t respond.
He tucked his hands behind his back and began to pace along the rim of the dais he stood upon.
“You can trace your roots back to the founding of Sanctuary itself.
Not many who remain can make that claim.
It's not all that unexpected that you should prove successful in our Trials. Your partner, however…”
He turned back to me and raised a perfectly manicured brow.
“She came from the Third Ring, did she not?” he asked smoothly. A hypothetical question but one I knew demanded an answer.
“She did, my Lord,” I replied.
“Quite an unexpected pairing, wouldn’t you say?”
For the first time, I failed to hide my confusion.
“I was under the impression that you, the gods, decided upon the pairing,” I said.
He smiled but it was a cruel, sharp thing and did nothing to alleviate my wariness.
“In a sense,” he replied. “That’s a common misconception. We Geist are far too busy to evaluate each and every potential competitor, year after year. Particularly when your race has proven so unsuccessful these past few centuries. Now, we allow the magic to choose.”
“The magic?” I asked, unable to help myself.
I saw Kleio shift in the dark corner he stood in and knew I was treading into dangerous territory. Questioning the leader of the gods before his council probably wasn't the wisest move, but I couldn't help myself.
“Each inhabitant of Sanctuary, the Verdunn as you call yourself in the old language, has a certain amount of magic in their blood. We discovered early that the best way to get the proper genetic results would be to pair Verdunn with equal amounts of magic in their blood together. That is why we draw your blood at the start of the first Trial, to compare with the other competitors and pair you together.”
I nodded, though I still wasn’t quite sure I understood his explanation. Magic? The Verdunn, my people, all had magic in their blood?
“Now then,” Deimos said with another grin. “I’ve answered your questions. I'm hoping you'll oblige me by doing the same.”
I frowned, realizing the trap I’d walked right into. Kleio went rigid in the corner behind me.
“Tell me about your experience in the Trials, Dante,” Deimos said, pacing back to the front where he turned to face me fully.
“It’s been some time since we’ve had a champion to speak to and we’re all very curious about how you found your way out of certain predicaments we exposed you to. Specifically, the ninth.”
“The ninth?” I asked, taking a breath to buy myself time.
“The avalanche. How did you escape it?”
Deimos’ gaze narrowed to a fine point, practically boring through me.
Some of the men on his council behind him even leaned slightly forward in their chairs, clearly more interested in this topic than they'd been in any of the others.
But Kleio had warned me of this. He'd instructed me on how to respond, what to say.
And even though I still wasn't sure whether or not I trusted the god who'd been the first to welcome me to this strange place, I had experience judging men by their penchant for cruelty, and Kleio seemed far less sinister than Deimos.
So I raised my chin high and met the Lord of the Geist's eyes as I responded.
“I don’t remember much of that Trial,” I confessed.
“One minute, Adrian and I were shouting at one another on a mountaintop. The next, we were running for our lives as the mountain fell down on top of us. We tried to phase through the assault and, when that didn’t work, we tried to avoid suffocation by melting the snow around us and breathing through the water.
But eventually, that failed as well. The next thing I knew, we were back in the tunnels on our way to the tenth. That’s all I remember.”
I took a breath when I was done and forced myself to maintain eye contact with Deimos instead of glancing at the others to verify they'd believed me.
For a terrifying moment, the Lord of the Geist just stared back at me as if deciding whether or not to accept my story.
But then, finally, he nodded and everyone in the hall seemed to relax.
“Do you know what Blessing you were given for surviving the tenth Trial, Dante of House Viper?” Deimos asked with that cold smile.
“No,” I shook my head, brow furrowed. “I'd assumed being brought to Pavos was blessing enough.”
Deimos’ smile widened as he stretched his arms wide.
“Those who live among us are brought closer to us,” he said. “Forever. Welcome to immortality, Dante of House Viper.”
My lips parted in surprise as I whirled toward Kleio who still stood in his dark corner.
He gave me a slight, almost imperceptible, nod.
I fought the urge to storm over to him and crack his skull against the marble at his back.
He could have at least warned me. At any time, he could have told me I'd gained the gift of immortality.
If it was, in fact, a gift. That was yet to be determined.
“Valin!” Deimos shouted abruptly.
I refrained from jumping as two massive golden doors behind me creaked open. An enormous brute of a man with wavy, russet hair and a white eye patch over his left eye, strode in, brown leather garb rustling with every step he took until he stood before the Geist, only a few feet from me.
I stared at the hero of legend and failed to keep my jaw from hanging open in an embarrassing display of obvious shock.
Immortality meant this was the real Valin.
The Saint that his very own minor house had been founded upon, the partner of my own ancestor, Prima of House Viper, and the first to ever succeed in all ten Trials.
He didn't smile as he stood before the gods.
Nor did he kneel or address them in any way.
He simply stood still beside me, awaiting his orders.
“You will personally oversee our new Victor's training.
I expect you to make him into a warrior as fine as all the others you've guided through the years,” Deimos ordered and was answered with only a simple nod from Valin who was already turning away and heading for the doors at the back of the hall.
“You should know, Dante of House Viper, I will have reports of your progress. Should you prove to be a disappointment, you will have myself as well as the full might of this council to answer to for it.”
Despite the chilling threat the Lord of the Geist had just delivered to me personally, I maintained my composure enough to bend forward and bow.
She never would have bowed.