Page 137 of The Mortal Trials

My spine against the door frame, I twist toward him. “You know, you broke the heart of every girl in the realms today.”

His brows lift as he ticks his head back, a playful smirk on his lips. “Is that so?”

“Mm hmm. They all secretly thought the kisses you toss out were for them.”

He laughs, and the sound is effervescent. “Aster has done that since he was just toddling around. Aliver does it, too.”

Smiling, I glance back outside to the gold and orange sunset that cuts the facets of rolling waves into fire opals. They tumble to the shore where they break and drag over the sand.

“I want to thank you for the song, August,” I say offhandedly.

He turns to me.

“You kept Carina’s words alive.” He’d even used some of her clever phrases in it.

I look up at him as he stares at the temple, like he’s trying to will that horn to sound. Gulls scream as they fly past.

I swipe a damp palm over my stomach. Akira’s dress is made of delicate layers of fabric that gather in three knots down the middle of my body, creating a lovely shape. The front hem barely strikes my shin, but in the back, a small train trails behind me. My wavy hair drifts in the same sea breeze that runs its fingers through August’s. Warm sunlight slips over his skin, illuminating him like that’s its sole purpose.

A familiar coo comes from the direction of my oikos. My head swivels, pulse jumping.

Perched on the windowsill is a male resplendent quetzal like the ones that made their home in Abuela’s too-dry garden. Verdant feathers cover its head, spread across its chest, and spill down its back in the shape of the collared necklace I wear, with longer green feathers streaming from its tail. Its belly is a stark contrast – the plumage there is bright red.

It flies over the water and lands on August’s shutter. It begins to sing, inching closer and closer.

August and I exchange awed smiles.

I extend my hand like Abuela does when they sometimes allow her to hold them. The bird comes to me, its feet gripping my finger like a branch. I draw it to me and run my other finger down the back of its soft head.

“It’s incredible,” August breathes. “Beautiful. I’ve seen your feathers, but not the creature who gave them to you.”

The horn’s abrupt blast frightens the quetzal away. It flaps wildly, then swoops back to my oikos, where it perches again.

How did it get here?

We climb the staircases to the temple, not knowing what to expect, given the way the trial ended, but when we crest the hill, we hear the music that usually spills from the hilltop during feasts. The delicious scents of freshly prepared food drift out to meet us. The swaths of unmarred pale fabric wave us inside.

A single table graces the middle of the sanctum, a bone-white cloth draped over its face. Crowned with matching candles burning amid clusters of colorless flowers, four chairs sit empty around it.

“I wonder which table is ours,” August drawls sarcastically, studying the rest of the room.

Like moons, eleven circular tables orbit the ivory one, all ensconced in the rainbow of colors claimed by the pantheons with mortals in the games.

Koda sits with Anansi at a table wholly decorated in vibrant red to honor the African pantheon. Trickster Anansi’s too-curious stare fixes on my necklace. Ogun isn’t with him. He claimed he needed time to consider August, but Anansi raises his brows and glass to me in challenge.

If I tell him what I know, he will bring Ogun for August.

The golden table of the Egyptian pantheon teems with Isis and Taeniset, Thoth and Yuuki.

The Greek’s is draped in regal blue, and Athena is seated with Elias. They lean in to speak privately as their eyes comb the competition.

Marima and Niall are with Brigid at the Celtic’s midnight table, but Morrigan is absent. I wonder where she is, and why she smiled when she spirited my brother out of the arena. I’ve never seen her do that before today. I’m not sure I ever want to witness it again.

Stoic Hazi and Erra sit together at the royal purple Mesopotamian table. I’ve never seen Erra before. Outfitted in loose pants, the war deity has light brown skin and an impressive gray beard that stretches to the middle of his taut stomach. Thick gold bands cuff his wrists and every inch of the outside of his ears are pierced with hoops to match.

For a breath, Hazi’s eyes flick to Tae. When he sees she’s busy, he shifts in his seat and stares blankly ahead.

Also sitting alone are Kallik and Nanook of the Inuit pantheon. Their table is set in a sable tone reminiscent of rich soil. The two males are as still as a winter sea. Furs adorn their shoulders, and their shirts, pants, and boots are trimmed in it.