Page 151 of The Mortal Trials

How much did they see?

Elias hovers but stands apart.

“Elias, I’m sorry!” I cry, my chin quaking. “I’m so sorry.”

His lips form a thin line as he nods to me. He’s merciful enough to accept my apology despite the hurt I caused him.

The portal behind us dims.

“August,” I sob, dropping the spear at the same time he drops his sword. I jump into his arms and he catches me and holds on tight.

He presses desperate kisses against my skin. On my left cheek. My right. My forehead.

And finally… finally, his lips meet mine. I bawl, emotion tearing from my heart. These past months I’ve sealed it all inside, but there is no containing it now.

Abuela said there was magma in the middle of me, but all I feel is grief and regret and the weight of a thousand things I want to do but won’t have the chance to accomplish.

“Don’t cry,” he whispers, brushing a hand down my hair. “I’m with you to the end, okay? Don’t let Ares see your fear.”

It’s what Morrigan said in her realm before sending us to Olympus. When you face him, don’t reward him with your fear.

Did she know we would die like this?

“I don’t care about him. I only care about you,” I cry. “I want more time with you.”

He kisses me again. Fiercely. Desperately. Finally.

Our time has run out.

The sound of the messenger god’s winged talaria echoes across the silent arena. He holds the golden laurel.

I slip down August’s body and place my feet on the ground, trying to stand upright and face this moment with dignity and bravery like Carina did. I look over at the divine box, from where Hermes is sending this moment to every telecaster in the realms. I stare into it and shake my head.

Don’t come for me, Cillian. And don’t worry. I’ll be with our sister soon.

When Hermes lands, Ares appears at his side with a sword on his hip. He nods at Hermes to continue.

The messenger god isn’t smiling.

“The winner of today’s trial is Veronia.” Hermes starts toward her, but she moves back.

Her eyes cut to us, then to the divine box. “Will no one help them?” she shouts in challenge. “None of you are brave enough?”

Her outburst startles everyone. It certainly shocks me.

Hermes moves forward again, but Torsten and Kallik step in front of Veronia, blocking his path.

The messenger god tilts his head at their interference. He could easily move them. Send them flying across the arena, raise them into the air and break their spines. He could, but he doesn’t. Instead, an amused smirk graces his lips.

Ares snarls as his sword sings from its scabbard.

I reach down and pick up the golden spear. The one he impaled my sister with. He planted it for me in the salt fields. Nudged Elias to push me and my chariot toward it. I probably passed it a dozen times as he moved it and moved it until I finally picked it up.

He wanted me to carry it, oblivious to what it was and what it had done, for the rest of my life.

I raise the weapon, ready to fend off another thirteen blows if I must, simply for the chance to plant the blade that killed my sister in the mouth of the one who took her tongue.

Suddenly, the earth begins to quake. Sand rattles under our feet.