Page 237 of The Mortal Trials

“The rules be damned!” she shrills. “Akira made it back here, just as Torsten did.” Taeniset is livid, pointing at Akira, demanding he help. “She survived. This isn’t fair! She’s still alive and you can help her. Why won’t you help her?”

Susanoo’s broad shoulders tense at her tone, at her insistence. The once gentle breeze strengthens, dragging its claws through his long hair. His hands form fists at his side. He wants to heal Akira. Under any other circumstance, I think he’d do exactly that. But this isn’t his game. He only elected to play it.

Susanoo bows in silent apology to the golden, bloody, heartbroken girl – something I’ve never witnessed a god do, not even proud Morrigan – then takes slow, difficult steps away from her and his mortal.

He disappears, ending the trail of footsteps he pressed into the sand.

Taeniset stares slack-jawed at the space he just occupied. She returns to Akira, sinking to her knees and taking hold of her friend’s hand. Akira’s eyes peacefully blink at the clouds. Ones that look more like waves carrying sea foam than water vapor.

While Susanoo couldn’t save her, he gave her a painless transition from life into death.

Tears fall from Taeniset’s angry eyes as she draws Akira’s hand to her heart. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Akira’s breaths slow. Her grip loosens on Taeniset’s hand. Her eyes stop blinking. Chest stops rising. Her lips part with her final breath.

A mourning cry tears from Taeniset as she sinks farther into the sand, defeated.

The gods don’t care if we die here. They aren’t even moved when we grieve.

It’s what they want.

17

Only a few minutes pass before Hermes flies down from the divine box and lands in the middle of us. Draped in blue, holding the winner’s crown in his hand, he’s smiling.

“Ulani!” he chirps. “You discerned the nature of the trial before any other mortal, then led your team into the dark belly of the labyrinth. And since you were the first to return to the arena, you’re the winner!”

Ulani doesn’t move forward to be crowned. The sunlight on his bronze leathers makes him look more statue than man.

Hermes jovially waves. “Come and accept the laurel!”

Ulani refuses. “I did no more than Vailea. And Elias. And August. And Callalie. And Koda. I did no more than Akira.”

Everyone’s eyes flare when he mentions her, and at the vitriol in his tone.

Niall shifts uncomfortably beside Koda. Ulani did not mention him in his praise.

Ulani crosses his muscled arms. “Why should their heads go unadorned?”

Vailea sticks a sharp elbow into his ribs and flashes a look of warning.

Hermes’s smile thins before sharpening. “You refuse our kindness?”

Ulani matches his expression with a venomous grin. “Of course not. I only seek to recognize my allies.”

Another jab from his wife and Kanaloa’s championed moves forward to let Hermes lay the golden wreath on his head. I breathe easier when it’s done.

“This evening, we will host a feast in your honor,” Hermes informs everyone, glancing from Ulani to each survivor in turn.

How dare he say that while Akira’s body is still cooling on the sand, shrouded in crimson and pale blue!

If Taeniset had the power to harness the sun like Apollo, she would burn Hermes into ash on the spot.

The crowd keeps silent as Hermes flies back to his box.

Ulani rips the golden laurel from his head. His eyes soften on the face of his lovely wife before he walks over and places it on mine. “We know who truly won today, and what it cost you.”

I press my thanks against the aching place in my chest. My throat swells with the tears I choke back.