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“Twenty-one.”
My shoulders dropped, relieved. “Eighteen.”
Aeron chuckled, crossing his ankles. “Oh, this is going to be fun, please, ladies, first.” He motioned a hand in Calandra’s direction.
We slipped back into an uncomfortable silence as Calandra studied the chalices, picking the one on her far right. She mouthed a silent prayer, and without waiting another second, took a sip. I held my breath for what felt like an eternity, sweat licking my neck before she peeked them open and gave us a thumbs up.
My limbs went numb as everyone turned to me next.
I couldn’t control my trembling fingers—or the way my head spun—as I reached for the center cup, gripping the table with my free hand to keep from falling over. There was no odor to the drink when I brought it to my nose, and I slammed it back down as if the metal burned my skin.
I picked up the other two chalices and smelled each of them, searching for something. A clue. Anything that’d hint at their toxicity, but they all smelled the same.
“Tick tock,” Aeron chimed. “Any day now.
Chewing the inside of my cheek, I reached for the far-left chalice and brought it to my lips.
Stop!
Something inside me screamed not to drink it.
In a trivial attempt, I looked up in the direction Talon was sitting—not sure what I was hoping to find, as there was no one there.
Trust yourself, Elowyn.
Reach within.
I wished either of those statements made a lick of sense, but alas, it sounded like a bunch of hogwash. Grounding my molars together, I made a silent offering to Lady Luck.
And without wasting another beat, I grabbed the middle chalice and took a swig.
My lips burned.
A reaction wouldn’t happen that fast, would it?
I hunched over and rested my head against the table, praying, begging, pleading that it was only my anxiety, and I was imagining the sensations. Seconds, minutes, an eternity seemed to pass before my ears stopped ringing, and my pulse returned to normal.
Finally, I stood, wiping my brow, and nodded.
Kelvin returned the nod, rubbed his hands together, picked up the middle chalice on his table, and took a large gulp. There was no second guessing. No hesitation. No signs of distress as he wiped his mouth with his sleeve, until he gripped his throat—gasping, choking, and sputtering incoherent words—before he staggered backward and collapsed on the ground.
Aeron hopped off the table and rushed to his side.
Maybe it was regret or fear, but for a second, he looked like he was going to be sick. I’d relish in his misery if someone wasn’t on the verge of death.
I glanced at the clock.
Twenty minutes and fifteen seconds.
It was Breana’s turn. What if she also drank the wrong one? The deep wrinkles on her forehead told me she had the same fear. This was fucked. I bit the inside of my cheek until it bled as she reached for the left chalice and took a sip.
No one dared breathe.
The room stood on pins and needles as we waited for a reaction. The seconds ticked away, the timer running down with lightning speed when she held up her thumb.
Calandra and I released a collective sigh as the color returned to Breana’s face, the invisible grip on my airway loosening.
Breana kneeled, holding her knees to her chest, and I rounded the table.
