That was all the assurance he needed. He kept climbing and didn’t look down again.
It was the worst pain I’d ever experienced. The slow, agonizing crush of the third Trial had nothing on this sharp, slicing torment. Every inch up was bought by suffering, sacrificed for with blood. Then the numbness came, and a new fear emerged.
Three quarters of the way up, I couldn’t feel my fingers anymore. I had to rely on eyesight alone to ensure I had a good enough grip to raise myself up another inch. And, with Dante bleeding freely above me, the blades I was reaching for were already slick. I closed my eyes more than once, clinging to the wall, resisting the urge to purge my breakfast all over the blades below. But eventually, we made it.
When we finally reached the top, both of us a bleeding, agonized mess, we crawled onto the platform, leaving streaks of red blood upon the white marble. Without hesitation, we stood and plunged our arms through the glowing blue rings.
But nothing happened.
I watched as the confusion registered on Dante’s face that I could only imagine was duplicated on my own. We pulled our arms out and thrust them back in. Nothing. Then Dante screamed.
My gaze shot to his arm. The blue ring had collapsed and closed like a vice around his bicep, just above his elbow. Wide eyed, I looked to my own, but it was still open, hovering and glowing as it always did before we’d reached it. But it wasn’t branding me.
“What’s happening?”
“I don’t—”
Sacrifice,a voice hissed against my consciousness.
It was so disorienting, I nearly stumbled back from the top of the wall and went crashing down to the blood-soaked floor below. But I righted myself at the last moment and remained teetering on the edge of the platform beside Dante, who was yanking on his arm as hard as he could, cursing and hissing in pain as the new manacle slid against his previous wounds.
Sacrifice,the voice growled again, this time slightly louder, and I realized, with horror, that it wasn’t just one voice at all.
It was two, disembodied and in perfect harmony, echoing around my mind as if calling to me from across the chasm. But the most discomfiting part was that those two voices were all too familiar.
They were our own.
Dante seemed to realize the same thing, for his eyes snapped to mine, flooded with sheer panic.
To continue on in these Trials, a sacrifice must be made.
“Dante—”
He shook his head, silencing me.
One of you has been chosen. The rings have decided. They will not release you.My heart hammered against my chest as our phantom voices continued.To escape, you must sacrifice the limb.
Our eyes met. Dante exhaled.
Shemust do it.
My jaw dropped. I’d thought the wall of knives had been cruel enough. Forcing us to drag ourselves up a razor-sharp wall at an agonizingly slow pace was already despicable, but this…
“Hell no,” I bit out.
“You have to.” There was a resignation in Dante’s voice already. It drew my gaze back to him. “Adrian, listen—”
“Are you insane? It’s yourarm. They want me to cut off your arm!”
“I know but listen,” he replied, far more calm than he had any right to be. “My mother said we had to trust each other, that we had to trust the Geist. I trust you, Adrian. I do. So please, trust me too. You have to do it.”
I shook my head. “I can’t. Maybe there’s another way. Maybe this is a test. Maybe if I cut your arm off, we’ll actuallyfail.Maybe—”
“We’ve reached the rings, Adrian. We’re already here. This is the last step. You’re right. It is a test, but it’s a test of our dedication. They want to know if you’ll do it, and if I’ll let you. They want to know how much we’re willing to give.”
“Are you?” I asked, overcome with curiosity even amid my panic. “Willing to sacrifice this?”
He nodded.
