He turned away and paced, hands in his pockets as if we were merely discussing something as casual as the weather. I eyed him warily even as he did not so much as look in my direction.
“That I…that I would join theGeist,” I repeated the old belief, suddenly looking around at my surroundings in a new light. “Am I—"
“Welcome toPavos, Dante of House Viper,”Kleiosaid formally, turning to me with a wicked grin on his lips. “City of Light, City of Awe, City of theGeist.”
I blinked at the god before me, speechless. I'd known, hadn't I? The moment he'd revealed his identity to me, I should've understood where I was. It explained everything. The strange room I was in, the glowing magical tablet sitting on the corner of the bed, the deity pacing before me. But I'd never truly believed it before, that I would join them in the end, so I still found it difficult to do so now, despite the proof existing right in front of me. I glanced down at my arms, at the tenth band solidified there. I'd done it. I'd won. We'd won.
My stomach lurched as a wave of nausea rolled through me.
Kleio cast a knowing glance in my direction.
“You've earned your spot here in the most coveted service of the gods,” he continued. Then, with a frown, he turned away from me and returned to the bed where he plucked the object back into his hands and began tapping away once again. “You will learn more about your place in this most holy city very soon. For now, I'm required to run some tests on our new Victor before you meet our ruler and his council.”
“Deimos,” I whispered, in awe despite my best efforts. “You mean Deimos, the leader of theGeist, and his Council of Eleven. WillCallidorabe there as well?”
Kleiosmiled briefly up at me, though the expression was strained in a way.
“Very good,” he commented, voice far more emotionless than before. “That knowledge will serve you well here. As will the false reverence.”
My awed expression faltered and failed. Kleio's tone was approving but, as he looked back down to the item in his hands, I didn't believe I imagined the brief glimpse of sadness in his eyes.
“Before we get started, Dante, what can you tell me about the ninth Trial?”
He asked the question innocently enough, affecting an air of casual curiosity that might have fooled someone else. But I'd grown up wary of emotions, learning to read the signs of my grandfather’s fury before I was caught up in it. I could see the keen interest in his eyes, the way he leaned slightly forward to better hear my answer, his fingers poised over the object in his hand that had so occupied his attention before, now forgotten. I took a breath.
“The ninth Trial…” I replied, searching my memory. “That was the avalanche?”
He nodded.
“What about it?” I asked. “One minute, Adrian and I were screaming at each other on top of a mountain. The next, the mountain was falling down on top of us.”
“You were buried,” he said, “under twenty feet of snow. By all accounts, you should have suffocated. But you didn't. How?”
“You want to know how I got out?”
He nodded again.
“I…” I began, brow furrowed. I could still remember the feeling of being crushed by the weight of the mountain. Thefreezing cold death that strained my body and filled my lungs until I couldn't breathe. The girl who'd held my hand until the very end, until the force of the snow ripped us apart. Jaw clenched, I continued. “I don’t know. I was laying there, suffocating, dying. I tried to melt the snow and breathe it in to stay alive but it wasn't working. Then there was this big dark cloud over me and the snow was gone and I passed out. I…I don’t remember anything else.”
He nodded slowly. I watched his expression for any hint of what my story had meant to him. I had a feeling this was some sort of test. I couldn't tell whether or not I'd passed.
“That’s what you should tell them too, when they ask,” he told me after a moment, his voice much lower than before.
I stared at him.
“Them?” I asked.
“Deimos,Callidora, the Eleven,” he clarified. “They will ask you about the ninth Trial as well. That's what you should tell them, everything you just told me. Nothing more, nothing less.”
“But why—"
“This is important, Dante,” he snapped. My eyes narrowed at his tone but a moment later he cleared his throat and took a breath to calm himself. “Just…don't lie to them. Don't pretend you know any more than you do. They'll know if you're lying. They saw it too.”
He gathered up his device, tucking it under an arm once more, and turned toward the wall that had opened for him before.
I wasn't done with this conversation. I had so many questions I couldn't grasp onto any of them long enough to formulate the words aloud.
“They saw it?” I called out from behind. “What do you mean they saw it?”
