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I made my way to the towering square monument built of white stone. Its roof, five stories above the ground, was a dome made of one continuous piece of glass. It was breathtaking to stand at the base and look upon the sacred temple. I tied my chestnut horse to a post at a trough with other horses of all colors and sizes, then took off her saddle and pitched my tent closer to the trees, away from the Rip.
I patted her sweat-covered neck. “Iwillsee you soon.” I hoped that I wasn’t lying to her.
The contestants had until the sun was at its peak to report to the temple, so I stayed in the shade of my tent, preparing the necessary mentality—going to the dark recesses within my mind, that of a Roav. The cloth doors were tied open to let the breeze cool the sweat dripping down my body as I sat with my legs folded beneath me and performed a series of breathing exercises. The breeze brought with it a faint, appealing scent of cedar and bergamot, and something else I couldn’t place. I closed my eyes and inhaled deeper, the scent seemed to reach my core as I instantly felt heat of another kind.
This is not the time to get turned on.
I must have been losing my mind. The stress from the impending Trial was getting to me, I was sure of it. I shook my head, trying to clear my mind of inappropriate thoughts, and concentrated once again.
I looked at my Trial mark, the glow from the swirls and symbols had grown more faint during my travels the closer I got to the temple, and was nearly gone now.
I stayed in my tent for the rest of the morning, until the sun rose to midday, when some of the contestants started heading into the temple. I quickly strapped my thighs with a pair of daggers, my bow and quiver across my back, and another set of daggers concealed at the small of my back, the holster already underneath my leathers. Lengths of rope and a canteen with water were attached to my belt. The only thing the contestants were allowed to bring to the Trial was what we could carry on our bodies, nothing more. I shrugged to myself.
No matter. I don’t need anything more.
I exited the tent and made my way to the temple. Squaring my shoulders, I held my chin high, portraying confidence to those around me. Yet, I felt a hole form in the pit of my stomachand my palms began to sweat as I ascended the marble stairs and crossed the threshold into the Odes’s Temple.
The glow of my mark finally winked out. The Trial had begun.
Chapter Ten
Kya
The Worthy of each Nation lined the inside perimeter of the temple along the marble walls. Each was identically cloaked in dark ceremonial robes so no one could tell them apart. If I were chosen, I would be challenging one of them. And thank the Gods that they couldn’t use abilities or magic during the engagement. While some wouldn’t have been so difficult to battle against, most had terrifying power that seemed impossible to win against.
Jymar, the Lord of Gaol, had the ability to negate our natural elemental abilities if close enough. Zana, Lady of Dusan, was an empath who could use others’ emotions against them, and it was rumored that she could breathe under water. Dainos, Lord of Torx, could manipulate sound—matching the frequency of an object in order to obliterate it. Hamal, Lord of Ulrik, could replicate himself, so instead of fighting one of him, you fought several. And then there was Ryker, Lord of Oryn, who had shadows that could kill a person without him so much as moving.
As I stood amongst the contestants, I wondered which would be challenging the Worthy. Which would walk away with their unmarked lives. Which wouldn’t return.
At one end of the temple, the Sages were gathered upon the dais, spanning the length of one whole side, looming over the contestants.
Nineteen contestants were gathered in the large expanse. Significantly less than the last century. Though there was no way of knowing just how many were born with the mark between each Trial or even if it were a consistent amount. So either there were considerably less fae born with the mark, or a vast amount of them had been killed since the last Trial. Anyone who was past the Staying age of twenty and who bore the mark was forced to enter the next Trial. The ages of the contestants could vary anywhere from one hundred and twenty to twenty years old.
Since they had all passed their Staying age, it was impossible to tell their true age. The older contestants would be a more formidable threat, as some could have had a century or more to train. I would have liked to have that bit of information as I glanced around at the other Marked around me—which ones were the biggest threat.
I was jolted from my thoughts as the large marble doors behind me slammed shut, and I heard the latching of a bolt lock. My heart pounded in my chest so violently I was certain others could hear it. Sweat licked my brow and my palms felt clammy. I had a feeling that the other contestants were thinking the same thing I was, as their faces paled.
This is it. No turning back now. Survive or die.
I squeezed my eyes shut and inhaled deeply through my nose. The scent of dread was thick in the large expanse of the temple, wafting off of all of us.
I can do this. I can do this. I CAN do this.I have no choice…
Initiation into the Trial had begun. No one was allowed in and no one was allowed out. Immediately after they closed, muffled banging came from the doors then abruptly stopped moments later.
Likely a late contestant.
We were to be inside of the temple at the exact time that the sun was highest in the sky. Any marked contestant who didn’t make it was dead in seconds, their own markings consuming them.
The Sages were huddled in a circle, and began their ritual—a low recitative chant. The unison of their voices filled the temple. It felt ghoulish and transcendent all at once.
No one dared to breathe a word or even make the slightest sound as the Sages called upon the Spirits. They spoke in the ancient words of the Gods. The foreboding created a wave of unease that swept across the room as the temple darkened and became so cold that I could see my breath clouding in front of me. The tension in the air was like a thread pulled, so tight I thought it would snap at any moment.
Keeping my head facing forward, I trained my eyes on the other contestants, trying to get a read on them. While faint, I could feel each of them through the marble floor. The vibrations of rapid heartbeats, the shaking, the tremors.
And something else.
Moving only my eyes, I looked around the room and tried to examine each face that I could see. Someone wasexcited. I could feel the electricity thrumming from them, though it was muffled, and I couldn’t place who it was coming from. Then it just…stopped.
