“She will not be harmed,” Theron said coolly. “If that is your concern. Now do not try my patience, for this offer will not stand for long… now which is it… yes or no?”
I closed my eyes briefly, then stepped forward. When I extended my hand and his fingers closed around mine, power rippled beneath my skin. A deep glimmer of stone and flesh as they merged from one to the other. Like something ancient within him was shifting in response to our bargain. The sensation washed through me, a pull so subtle and dangerous it left me unsteady, as if the longer he held me, the more of myself he could uncover.
Then he simply… let me go.
“Excellent,” he said with a smile.
“So you’ll give us the torch?” I asked, rubbing my palm as if to ground myself, unsettled by how deeply his touch had affected me.
“All in good time,” he replied. “But first…” My stomach dropped, knowing this was when the penny dropped and I was right when he said, “It is time for the test.”
“The test?” I echoed. “But we had a deal.”
“That we did, and we still will, but first, every vow must be confirmed by the judgment of the gods,” he said as he stepped closer, his presence overwhelming.
“I… I…” I could barely form words, and I had a feeling I had just gotten myself into a whole new world of trouble.
“Just because you gave me your word does not mean I can trust it. After all, I don’t know you.”
I swallowed hard and told him, “I wouldn’t lie.”
“No,” he agreed, his smile sharpening. “Then in that case, you have nothing to fear, now do you?”
Except I did. I had a lot to fear, in fact, because I had no idea how this test even worked. After all, I was sure people had failed lie detectors before from being too nervous. What if that was the case here?
“Your test, what happens if I fail?” I asked carefully, which at this stage I thought was a great question. But then again, he wasn’t about to let me off from doing the test for showing some intelligence now, was he?
This time, his grin was openly unnerving, excitement flickering beneath the surface.
“Your words will be judged,” he said. “Your truth weighed.”
“And if I fail?” I dared to ask again.
“Then it is simple,” he replied calmly. “You will be turned to stone. And when judgment is complete…to dust.”Theron turned first, the decision already made. “Now, shall we proceed?” he said, stepping away from us. He lifted one hand, not toward me, but toward Aster.
“You,” he said without looking back, “Will walk behind us.” The command came quietly but still oozed authority.
Aster stiffened, his hooves scraping against the stone, the sound sharp in the sudden silence. For a heartbeat, I thought he might argue, might bare his teeth and push back. But then he caught my eye. The look he gave me was tight with restraint,a promise to endure it for now, even as every instinct in him bristled against being ordered around.
Theron stopped beside me and extended his arm.
It wasn’t a demand, not even an invitation, but a sure indication of where he expected me to be.
I hesitated only a moment before stepping forward.
As we left the throne room, guards fell into step at a distance, their presence silent. They were like living stone and more of them lined the passage as Theron led me forward almost leisurely.
We moved through a series of vaulted halls and then entered another passage where immense doors rose at the end. They were taller than anything I had ever seen. Impossible slabs of stone reinforced with dark metal. Runes were carved deep into their surface, beautiful and intricate, as if they were telling a story of what lay beyond. Theron did not slow. At his approach alone, the mechanisms groaned to life, and with a sound like the grinding of mountains, the doors began to part.
Light spilled in through the widening gap, followed by cool air carrying with it the scent of stone and earth.
As we stepped through, the fortress opened to the outside at last, corridors giving way to broad stone walkways that curved through the grounds beyond its walls. The sky stretched wide above us. The sun was sinking toward the horizon, its light casting shadows that stretched and warped across the stone.
We continued to walk in silence, though I was acutely aware of him beside me, of how easily his stride matched mine, despite the obvious height difference between us. The way his presence seemed to bend the space around us, leaving only the two of us. He was close enough that I could feel the heat of him through the air. Behind us, Aster’s steps followed at a close distance, heavier now, his hooves striking stone with a muted rhythm that echoedfaintly through the open space. His annoyance with the situation evident.
The path led downward, away from the fortress, toward a section of the grounds I hadn’t seen from my room. As we rounded a final curve, the garden revealed itself.
Stone figures rose from the earth in uneven rows, some standing alone, others clustered together. Their forms half reclaimed by creeping vines and pale moss. They were not arranged for beauty or symmetry. They stood where they had fallen, where they had been left, frozen mid-motion, mid-scream, mid-prayer.
