"I still am unsure of what that trial is."
"TheRiddle of Bloodis perhaps the most revealing of the trials," she responded. "Its entire purpose is to uncover unexpected truths about participants and even secrets in their bloodlines—secrets they themselves might not even know." She paused. "I daresay you can imagine how dangerous this trial could be for you?"
I nodded, her words sending a chill of apprehension down my spine, settling like ice between my shoulder blades.
"This is the first I've heard of it."
"And that is by design."
"All trials test us differently," I said evenly, trying not to betray the sudden dryness in my mouth or the sweat gathering beneath my collar. I thought of the Obscura Merlin had gifted me and, more pointedly, the Veilwood Draught. It was a potion brewed from the roots of the Veilwood—the ancient forest in Annwyn where the boundary between realms thinned. Drinking the draught would allow a thin veil to drop over my mind. In so doing, Arthur would not be able to see my intentions, emotions, or the visions I received in the trials. Instead, my thoughts would appear muted, mundane.
"You think you are prepared, but you are not." Elenora tilted her head slightly, as though measuring my words against some internal scale. The gesture felt almost predatory. Then, without further explanation, she extended her hand and offered me the silk-wrapped object.
"What is it?"
"Something that will help you during the trial," she replied, her voice unreadable. "A gift from me… to you."
"A gift?" I repeated, my voice carefully measured despite the skepticism coursing through me. I didn't know what it was Elenora was after, and that bothered me. Furthermore, I was convinced she was after something. She wasn't the type of woman who did things out of the good nature of her heart. No, there had to be strings attached.
Without warning, vivid images crashed into my consciousness—her mouth on my most intimate flesh, the skilled way her tongue had worked against me, the desperate sounds I'd made as she brought me to the edge of madness. Heat flooded my cheeks before I could stop it, and I had to blink rapidly, forcing the memories back into the shadows where they belonged.
"Go on, take it."
I swallowed hard, reaching out to accept the silk-wrapped object. As soon as I did, I had to glance down at it in order to avoid the expression in her eyes—as if she knew exactly what I was thinking about.
"It will help keepprying eyesaway from the secret you most want to protect."
My fingers brushed the silk, the fabric soft and cool, unnervingly at odds with the heat of suspicion rising in my chest. Inside was a small vial filled with a soft blue shimmering liquid, tiny currents swirling beneath the crystal surface. I recognized it immediately.
"Caliope."
"Yes," Elenora confirmed, her voice almost tender—but no warmth touched her eyes. "You must drink it before the trial."
I stared at the vial, my thoughts spinning. Caliope wasrare. No one I knew—not even Merlin—had ever entrusted me with it. A fluid of ancient origin, Caliope took on properties according to the user's intent. It was the most adaptable, and therefore the most dangerous, of enchantments.
"If you drink it before the Riddle of Blood," she continued, stepping closer, "you can ensure that nothing your blood reveals will… jeopardize your place here or jeopardize… you."
I looked at her sharply. "Whyare you helping me?"
She didn’t blink but took a step closer until I held out a hand to stop her. "I've already answered that, Guinevere."
I narrowed my eyes. "The answers you gave me were non-answers. And you never told me how you know my name."
She smiled—calm, cold. "You never asked."
"Well, I’m asking now."
"And now," she said, her eyes flicking to the door, "we don’t have time for long stories. I shouldn’t even be here—this is very dangerous for us both, but I had to prepare you."
"I already have the Veilwood Draught."
She shook her head. "It won't be enough, but take it anyway. And, immediately afterward, take the Caliope. Then you will be fully protected."
Was this genuine help—a lifeline thrown by someone who truly understood what I was up against? Or was it something more sinister—a trap meticulously dressed as mercy, designed to ensnare me when I was most vulnerable?
I studied Elenora's face, searching for some tell, some crack in her composed facade that might reveal her true intentions. But she remained perfectly still, perfectly controlled, her expression giving nothing away.
Elenora held my gaze with unnerving stillness. In that silence, I was reminded that this woman already knewtoo much. That she could destroy me with a few words—if not tonight, then any time she chose. And I still didn’t understand what she stood to gain.
