I turn in a slow circle, my mind foggy. Why can’t I remember? Brow furrowed, I try to mentally retrace my steps. I walked to the temple. I went through the door. Then my memory goes dark. Everything after is missing.
There’s a burst of purple flames in my mind, but that doesn’t make sense. Fire isn’t purple.
Staring at the temple, I will my memory to return. When it doesn’t come, I trudge toward the temple and climb the steps. A gust of wind rushes by, nearly knocking me down.
I fight against it, trying to reach the door. The wind intensifies, and I hold my hands up in surrender. “Alright. I get it.”
As soon as I take my first step back down, the wind ceases.
They do not want me back inside that temple.
I inspect my arm and legs. I lift my undershirt. There are no lines on me. Unless the god’s gift mark is on my back, I don’t have one.
That can’t be good.
Did they reject me but allow me to live?
I begin to tremble, and my teeth chatter. I don’t feel cold, but my body is reacting. As if reminding me that I’m outside in a snowstorm in my underwear.
Still fighting the fog of confusion, I begin the trek back down the hill to where the carriage is supposed to be waiting for me.
I’m about halfway when I glance back at the temple and notice a trail of red footprints behind me. I gasp, then look down and take a step.
My boots leave crimson stains in the snow.
Like blood.
Heart pounding, I make myself walk forward. When I turn around, the red is gone. Nothing but fresh, seemingly pristine, undisturbed snow behind me. There’s not even a single footprint showing where I’ve been.
I move faster now. Seeing things that aren’t there is never a good sign.
My skin is blue by the time I spot the carriage. It’s a different one than when I arrived, but I can feel the cold biting into me now and I just want out of the wind and snow.
My hair hangs in wet strands, and my fingers are stiff. At least my feet are dry and warm. The boots held up well to the weather.
The carriage door swings open, and I let out a joyful cry when Brevan steps out.
He hurries toward me with a thick blanket. “Thank the gods you’re alive.”
“W-what are you d-doing h-here?” I ask while my teeth chatter.
“Caiden sent me. Told me he couldn’t bear to find your corpse if they rejected you.”
Another carriage rolls up behind us, and Brevan glances at it. “We have to go. The next candidate is ready.”
“H-how l-l-long?” I manage.
“You were gone about two hours. The emperor—he somehow knows when each candidate will be finished. But he never knows the outcome.” Brevan helps me into the carriage, then closes the door behind us. He pounds on the roof twice, and the carriage lurches forward.
As soon as we’re at a steady pace, Brevan moves next to me, then pulls me against him. His warmth seeps through the blanket, and I lean into it, closing my eyes until my teeth stop chattering.
My fingers hurt, but I move them slowly, and eventually, the feeling in my limbs returns. I don’t think I have frostbite. Which is very lucky considering that I have no clothes on.
“I don’t remember what happened,” I say.
“Nobody does.” He touches my cheek. “Your face is freezing.”
“Why didn’t anyone warn me?” I pull the blanket up so it’s covering my nose.
