AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The crowd around us was relaxing into silence once more. They had accepted what was about to happen. Even if I hadn’t.
The creature’s claw-like hands shot out again. This time slow enough that we could all see as the riddle-giver grabbed Vespera’s right hand and forced her talons to extend.
Swift and ruthless, the riddle-giver slashed Vespera’s own talons across her throat.
The cut went deep.
For a moment her head wobbled on her neck.
Then it fell.
The creature caught it up greedily in its own hands, lifting Vespera’s head to its mouth like one might do with a juicy ripe fruit.
I looked away, gagging.
Behind me, I glimpsed a few of the Siabra turning aside in horror and disgust.
Fury and revulsion churned within me in equal measure. This was part of this people’s culture? I couldn’t have dreamed such nightmares up. And yet they watched as if for sport.
I was a spectator, too. But I was forced to be. I had to bear witness. How could I look away when Draven was down there, risking everything for a chance to rule these spoiled, craven people that he believed he could somehow redeem?
Something was happening in the next chamber. The cavern with the riddle-maker grew dark. It’s part of the story was over now.
The stony room where Draven was became brighter.
Around him stood Avriel, Lyrastra, Erion, and Magus. The final five.
I could now pick out an object on the opposite side of the room.
Shadows fell away as a tall oblong frame was revealed.
The second trial. A mirror.
The mirror was rimmed in pristine silver so pale it was nearly white. Its polished glass surface gleamed with a radiant clarity.
As we watched, the looking glass slowly filled the small stone chamber with a beautiful light.
The mirror seemed innocent and inviting. Nothing like the riddle-giver in the room before.
But I knew better than to expect anything sweet or innocent from the Blood Rise by now. My heart sped up as I looked at the mirror.
Who would be the first to find out what this challenge involved?
Lyrastra and Avriel both moved at the same time.
But Lyrastra was quicker.
She reached the mirror and stood before it, silent and waiting.
Were there words she was meant to say, I wondered? How would she know what to do next?
But something was already starting to happen. A mist was moving across the surface of the mirror.
A voice emerged from the mirror. Whispering a single word I wasn’t confident I had heard correctly.
Lyrastra didn’t waste time. We saw her nod. Then she pulled a blade from one of the belts strapped to her thighs and slashed it quickly across one of her palms.
Squeezing her bleeding hand into a tight fist, she raised it so that the drops fell against the glass of the mirror.
