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A door shimmers into existence in front of her. “Oh good.” Cutter strides through, leaving the door open. “Y’all calling it quits?” she yells back at us.
I push to my feet, refusing to look down to the empty darkness where Mildrake fell. “Come on, Norrie.”
She shakes her head. “I can’t. Did you see what she did?”
“I saw.”
“She knocked Mildrake off the wall. Oh my god, she could’ve killed her. Should we go down and check on her? That could’ve been us.” Her pupils dilate, her hands shake, and her babbling gets faster and faster. “We can’t go in there with her. What if?—”
“We have to.” I put as much force as I can in my voice with my teeth chattering and my knees threatening to buckle. “If we stop, she wins. Now, let’s go.”
I pull and prod her through the doorway and into the next trial which thankfully isn’t another wall. No, it’s a white circular room with a domed ceiling, decorative columns, and a lowered shiny marble floor that sits a single step below us. We could be standing in an ancient temple—an empty one. I close the door behind us, and it bangs with an echo, making Norrie jump.
“Sorry,” I mutter.
“Welcome, candidates,” a feminine voice calls from above. I glance up to find no speakers—just soft lighting and more white space. “This trial tests your hearts.”
Then Cutter should lose for sure.
But what’s the trial? Where’s the test?
After a tense pause, the voice continues, “Only the two who truly want the crown with all their heart will make it through the next door.” The far wall opens to reveal a closed door on the opposite side of the round room. “Begin.”
Cutter leaps down to the floor, freezes, and screams.
“What is it?” I ask. “I can’t see anything.”
I follow, forcing myself to take that single step. Nothing happens when I place my first foot on the floor. I take another, and hundreds of spiders crawl up my shoe. My heart thrashes in my chest, and my skin goes damp with cold sweat.
Spiders. Of course it had to be spiders.
Remembering the way the Spidress thanked me for watching over one of her little ones, I step gingerly, not wanting to crush them, but they’re creeping up my shins, running as fast as their eight little legs will take them. Another step, and more appear. I can feel them crawling everywhere on my body. The pitter-patter of their stampede has me gulping breaths because what if they reach my face?
A glance at Cutter shows she’s making the same slow, halting progress as I am and brushing her hands over her thighs, whispering get off. But there’s nothing on her. At least nothing I can see.
It's an illusion.
I take two more quick steps, and my mind calls off its blaring Code Blue, death-imminent warnings similar to the ones that came over the hospital speakers. Embracing the stubbornness that got me through reading tutorials as a kid, I keep going. A few steps, and I’m almost there. I glance back at Norrie. She hasn’t moved.
“Come on, Norrie,” I call.
She hesitates.
Cutter isn’t far behind me.
“Move!” I yell at Norrie.
She stumbles onto the floor. “Snakes!” Her shrieks go shrill and deafening. “Get them off me.”
“It’s an illusion,” I say. “They’re not real.”
“No, no, no.” Falling to her knees, she crawls back to safety and curls into the fetal position.
“You have to push past the fear.” I hurry toward the final door, ignoring the fantasy spiders as best I can. Opening it, I turn and wave her on. “You’ve got to hurry.”
She doesn’t speak, doesn’t move, doesn’t look at me. Is she okay? She doesn’t look okay.
Cutter snarls, getting in my face. “Out of my way.”
