They feel heavy in my palms. I stare at the silver coins a long while before I slip them into the pocket of my robes. Then I look back at her. “I won’t be needing them but thank you.”
She smirks at that. It’s a mischievous look that gives me some hope. I think she believes me. Maybe they give everyone who enters the temple for this ceremony a pair of coins in case they need to pay the ferryman.
I will not be dying today.
The carriage slows to a stop after a long, bumpy ride. I peer through the curtains. We’re at the top of what we call the Gods’ Mountain, though it’s really just a rocky hill overlooking the city.
In the distance, about a mile’s walk from where we stopped, are the towering white marble pillars of the temple. There are many temples throughout Pendralia, but each of them is designated to a specific god. This temple is different. It’s meant to honor all the gods. As far as I know, the only thing it’s used for is the gifting ceremony.
The priestesses make the gesture for the gods, then bow their heads. This is where we part ways. I return the gesture. “Thank you.”
I have to be the one to open the door. Caiden told me the rules last night. I open the door; I walk the rest of the distance alone. I enter the temple. It must be done of my own free will.
I glare at the angry red welt on my arm. There was nothing free about that, and even this is under duress considering they’re holding my best friend hostage.
But as I step out of the carriage and begin my trek to the temple, I realize that during the binding ceremony last night, I didn’t ask to get out of this. I asked to survive so I could change things. So I could make them pay. So I could prevent anyone else from the suffering that they’ve put me and mine through.
There’s a lightness in my steps as I charge toward the temple. I’m not afraid. And I will face the gods with my chin held high.
Thirty-Nine
The path is barelyvisible under the fresh snow, but thankfully, it’s lined with leafless trees. They look almost magical with the thick layer of snow clinging to their bare branches.
My white robes drag, getting heavier with each step. I shiver under the thin fabric. The path is slick, and twice I catch myself before I fall. I slow my ascent, taking careful steps.
They didn’t say I had to get there quickly. I know they’ll wait to send the next candidate until after I’m finished, but they’re just going to have to wait. I’m not leaving here until the gods give me some answers.
I’m sweating by the time I reach the temple steps, and I lower my hood as I stare up at the impressive structure. Snowflakes catch on my eyelashes and coat my cheeks. I welcome their cool kiss on my warm face.
A wide stairway greets me, white marble steps interrupted by four tall white marble columns. The columns surround the structure. Four in the front and back, eight on each side. There isn’t even a roof. Instead, they surround another building. Like a cage of marble.
The interior building is a plain, enclosed stone rectangle with no windows. The stone is far less impressive than the marble, but from a distance, like in the city, you don’t see that smaller structure. I always thought the whole thing was made of marble.
After catching my breath, I climb the steps. The entry is an arched opening with no door. The stone building is lackluster. Especially compared to the opulence of the exterior facade. I expected decoration. Sculptures or paintings or gilded objects.
Aside from the entry, the only other light comes from a large circular vat of oil that burns brightly in the center of the room. I don’t know who keeps the oil topped up. Maybe it’s some form of magic.
I leave a trail of water and mud behind me as I walk toward the center of the room. The wet robes are heavy as they drag across the floor. I peel them from me and drop them to the ground. I’m in my undergarments, but there’s nobody here to see me and I’m already warmer without them.
Moving in a slow circle, I search for any hints of what to expect or how to do this, but there’s nothing. Just me and the burning oil.
“Now what?” My words echo back to me, and I feel stupid for talking to myself.
What if the whole thing is a scam? Growing up, I always heard the emperor was the one who grants people magic or takes it from them. What if coming here is just a test and the emperor grants the power afterward? What if all those relics he has under his skin are the only way he gains magic? Was that what the binding ceremony was really about? What if everyone who comes here already has magic from the relic the king gives them? Maybe nobody talks about it because they don’t want to admit that nothing happened.
I trace my fingers lightly over the burn on my arm. If it’s the relics, does that mean Caiden has that power, too? Or is this useless unless the emperor intervenes?
My heart races. If it’s the relics, the rebellion needs to find as many as possible. What if all that was missing was the part where the relic was inserted under the skin? Was it really that simple? I need to tell Lee. Then again, do I want Lee to have magic?
I cover my face with my hands and let out a frustrated groan. I am just as bad as the royals if I am starting to question who deserves magic and who doesn’t.
There’s a thundering sound, and I drop my hands from my face just as a door begins to slide over the opening.
There was no door before.
I run toward the entry, but before I reach it, the door seals shut. “Now what?” I look around as if expecting something to happen. Then I wait.
And wait.
