Orion’s wolf growls once before putting his muddy paws on Elizabeth’s clean bedsheets. He did that on purpose. But this close, I see why he is here. There’s a gold letter shoved in his mouth and dripping with saliva. “I’m not taking that from him. It has Orion germs on it.”
Reed reaches over and pulls it out of his mouth with a low laugh. Orion’s wolf snarls at me, and I’m stupid because he doesn’t frighten me at all. I wink at his wolf, and he leaps off the bed, kicking the muddy sheets on the floor and leaving. Reed opens the letter in the middle of us, and I close my eyes. I don’t want to know. Nothing good comes from these gold letters.
“What does it say?” I whisper eventually when Reed hasn’t said a word in a while. He feels tense next to me.
“The Mother test will happen tomorrow.”
Chapter Twenty-One
I’m not too surprised to wake up not in my bed with Reed sleeping next to me. I fell asleep in his arms, neither of us saying a word about the letter. I didn’t want to be alone, and I got the feeling he didn’t want to be either. So, I fell asleep with a man in my bed for the first time in my life, and by the Mother, I’m lying on a cold wooden floor alone when I wake up. The air smells like blossoms in the middle of spring, like the tree made of pink petals and leaves that Tannith and I go and sit under to eat our lunch. I know I’m not back at home, sitting under a tree with my best friend. If I’ve woken up somewhere new, it means the Mother trial has begun.
I sit up and wince; a very tight corset digs into my ribs.Wait, corset?My lips tug in a frown as I glance down, realizing I’m in a ballgown. A massive green ballgown spreads out from my waist, my shoes are heels woven around my ankles, and the corset is astight as a bow string. Long sleeves of the softest satin fall down my arms, and a V-dip of lace shows off the goddesses’ mark for the world to see. The skirt of the ballgown is a thousand woven silk leaves in varying shades of green. It’s pretty and soft, and it is the grandest dress I’ve ever seen in my life. Pretty enough to die in.
My hand flies to my hair, finding curls upon curls with dozens of pins and clips, and some strands fall around my ears and cheeks. I stand up and nearly fall over from the weight of the gown. Damn, is this why women always look miserable in gowns? They weigh a fucking ton, and I’m already over how pretty it is. I will happily die in an oversized top and leggings, goddess.Please and thank you.
I glance around the room when my gown doesn’t disappear, and right in the centre is a statue. It isn’t of the Crone goddess this time. It’s the Mother. I’ve seen pictures of her in the books, showing what she was said to look like, and this statue depicts her perfectly. The Mother is all in armour, her face covered in a helmet, every bit of her green right down to her shiny boots. Green shiny armour reflects the beams of sunlight pouring into the underground pit from the open ceiling. A tree is etched onto the front of her chestplate.
She rests on two glowing green swords, the blades smothered in words that I can’t read. Her long hair falls out of her helmet around her shoulders in long straight strands, and her eyes glow a vibrant green. The goddess of earth, the Mother goddess, in all her glory. I’ve always liked her the most. The history books said she was a warrior, heartless and cold, and killed males simply for looking at her wrong. The goddess of earth was a man-eater, and I fucking love her vibes.
My love of the Mother might disappear if she tries to kill me today though. I hope not. They do say you should never meetyour heroes in deadly trials in a magical land. They do say that, I’m sure. Somebody says it.
Pulling my eyes from the goddess statue, I take in the massive circular domed room with an open roof. It’s the middle of the day; the sun is bright and shining down on us. In between myself and the goddess looks like a marked circle of tiles. The tiles are black and lined with silver, each one about a foot big. There is a huge amount of space between where I am and the statue’s platform in the middle. I assume I have to get to her, just like in the first trial, and I doubt it is going to be as easy as walking over.
Hearing a shuffle, I turn to my left, and I find Blackfire on the closest platform to me. He’s in armour, and it makes him seem massive, imposing, and every bit the warrior I’ve been warned about. The only part of him that has stayed is his black mask. Even the Mother wouldn’t dare to take it from Blackfire. His armour is the darkest green, and it somehow contrasts with his red eyes. “I don’t think green is your colour, Blackfire.”
“It is yours.” His compliment shocks me. Did he hit his head?
I have to pull my eyes from Blackfire, and I look for Reed. I find him on the other side from us, and Orion is not far from him. There are three others in here: two men and the woman I’ve made eye contact with a few times and convinced myself that we are best friends and ready to start an alliance against all the men. A totally sane conclusion.
A tile in front of me slides open, and out of the ground, a faceless man appears in wooden armour. He isn’t alive, not really, and he reminds me of a doll. He is made of oak from head to toe. The wood creaks as he holds out his hand and bows his head to me. He doesn’t move again, holding that pose. I glance over at Blackfire to see a woman in a gown has appeared, made out of oak and faceless like mine. She bows differently, bendingher knees and offering Blackfire her hand. As I look around the room, everyone has an oak person.
The goddess’s voice echoes loudly, and again I cover my ears, almost wishing she was out of my head as her voice slides into my mind. “Welcome to the chosen survivors. We have watched you, and we are proud of the decisions you have made to get to my trial. In the Mother Pack, earth rules. Earth is strong, formidable, but also bends to and dances with the law of nature. Dance for me, my chosen, and those that perfect the dance will find their survival at the end of the dance. Misstep and you will die. The earth is perfect, and so will my chosen be.”
That does it; the Mother is not my favourite anymore. Instrumental music starts pouring into the air—formal and old music that I don’t know. It sounds like a full orchestra is playing somewhere, and they are perfect. This song is fast, and the dance must be too. Blackfire looks over at me when he sees I haven’t moved. I’m shaking from head to toe. “It’s the Rengi dance. Everyone’s taught this as a child. The earth court uses this dance at every ball they throw.”
“Not everyone,” I shout back. “I’mhuman, remember? I didn’t get to go to balls growing up, Blackfire. I learnt to wriggle my ass in nightclubs and tap dance on the bar for tips. Not ballroom dancing!”
His jaw clenches, and I realize I’m going to die. I have to dance with this wooden puppet perfectly across the tiles in the way the dance is meant to be, or something bad’s going to happen. I have a feeling the tiles are going to fall away or something equally awful the minute I step out of place, which will be straight away because I’m not a dancer.
I gasp as Blackfire lands next to me with a humph. “What are you doing?”
He walks to my wooden puppet man, picks it up like it doesn’t weigh anything, and throws it over to the space wherehe stood. The puppet doesn’t move. My heart feels like it’s in my chest as I face Blackfire, who doesn’t hesitate. He steps onto the tile where the man was and offers me his hand instead. He even bows his head. “Careful, Blackfire, this is coming across like you want me alive. I thought you didn’t trust me?”
“I do not. You are a lying spy,” he confirms, holding his hand out. “But I need to apologize for locking you in that room. Take my hand, Hopeless.”
“You think I’m a spy?” I can’t help the smile that appears on my face. “I’m a shit one if I am. I barely know anything about you.”
He curls his hand, with a taunting smirk. “I’ll tell you something about me that not many know if you take my hand. A spy would want to know it. I won’t let you fall or get crushed or whatever sadistic thing the goddess has come up with for this test.”
“You won’t?” I whisper. I’m scared, and I can’t stop shaking.
“No, even if you’ve been sent to destroy me.” His eyes lock onto mine. “Take my hand.” My heart pounds as I step forward, and I slide my hand into his. His hand is so big against mine, fully smothering my hand, and he pulls me to him. His other arm goes around my waist, pushing my chest to his. His hand interlocks our fingers and holds it up at our side. “Let me lead.”
And I do. Blackfire, despite being a huge, bulky man, dances, and he danceswell. He swings us around the tiles, moving perfectly on the tiles to the beat of the music. My head swims, but all I do is focus on him and his eyes as they never leave mine. We keep going even as a scream echoes, and I rip my eyes from his to look over past his thick arm. I wish I hadn’t looked. The tiles don’t fall away if we step on the wrong one. A rock falls from the ceiling and crushes us. On one of the tiles is a rock, and underneath it, blood sprayed everywhere, is a dead man.
I look away, sickness rising in my throat. “Don’t look,” Blackfire whispers to me, and he is somehow closer, and my face is inches away from his chestplate. I nod, focusing on him as he continues to pull us through the dance. Slowly, as we go around in huge circles, we are getting closer to the middle. I spot Reed and Orion at times. I can’t focus on them, not as fear threatens to throw me into a loop, not as Blackfire concentrates on making sure we dance every step perfectly. I somehow don’t step on his feet. Somehow, it feels natural as we dance together, and we fit. We work when weshouldn’t.
Another scream echoes off the walls, and this time it’s female. I turn, even though Blackfire warns me not to, and look down. The woman that I’ve made eye contact with several times across this test is crushed underneath a rock, her dancer in a pile of wood next to her. The bottom half of her body is pretty much gone, but she’s still alive somehow and crying. She is crying for her mother, and my heart can’t take it.
