We all were.
A row of identical chairs stretched out on either side of me. The slight, no doubt deliberate, curve of the seats made it easy to see everyone who was sitting in them. At the far left was Kai, whose beet-red face scowled as he fought against his bindings with no luck. Beside him was Verena, head bowed as her dark braids hung and concealed whatever emotion she was going through. Hector was next, his eyes pinned to me as if nothing else mattered in the world.
My heart skipped a beat at the sight of him, then sunk as I realised there was nothing I could do to reach him. I didn’t want to look away for a second, but there were two people missing from my roll call, and I knew they were to my left.
Romy was stoic in the seat directly to my side. Her furious stare was pinned to the strange podium-like construction that waited in front of us.
And then there was my father. A smug and excited smile plastered across his mouth. If I wasn’t imprisoned in my chair, I would’ve strode over to him and removed that grin with my balled fist.
Every single scar across my body burned at the sight of him.
“Any clues?” Hector called out, saving me from losing my mind to my father’s profile. “Focus on the trial, Arwyn. Don’t think abouthim.”
I shook my head, steadying my breathing as I focused back on the only man I truly cared about. Hector was turning as much as his bindings allowed, trying to piece together where we were. If this was the third trial, it could’ve already started. Piecing together our surroundings and making sense of it was the right thing to do.
I cleared my throat, not caring who listened. “It’s a barn of some description.”
Not dissimilar to the barn Hector and I had been inside when we’d gone back in time, and hidden from Witch Hunters. Dirty straw coated the floor beneath our chairs. I inhaled and practically tasted the faeces secreted by animals. The room was box-like, with tall ceilings that gathered in thick beams of wood, and panelled walls that looked weathered and aged.
The only detail that didn’t make sense for a barn, beside the line of chairs, was the singular podium in front of them. An old swath of material hung over the front, colours faded but I wascertain it had once been a deep maroon. On it, a symbol woven in thread that I’d practically overlooked. It was a mark I knew well.
It was my father’s symbol. The mark that he lived his life to serve. It was a Witch Hunter’s mark.
“I think I can burn the bindings off,” Kai said a second before I smelled smoke.
As the flames caught, before any of us could tell him to stop, the barn doors burst open. A gust of unnatural, stale air raced into the room with such a force I had to turn my head away. Straw and grit lashed into the side of my face. Kai gargled, and the smell of burning disappeared.
“There will benomagic permitted during this trial.” A hatefully deep voice oozed across my skin. As the winds died down, and the doors slammed closed again, I made out theclip, clop, clip, clop,of hooves muffled against the floor. “And this time, I mean it. That is not a twisted clue I give you to pass this trial. It is a fact. A warning, if you will. Use magic again, and I will devour your soul before you get the chance to plead for mercy.”
“Bahmet, how wonderful it is that you’ve joined us,” Hector hissed, spite mixed with his tone. “Is this the hovel you grew up in?”
“If I were you, Master Briar, I’d keep myself quiet.”
Rage crashed within me, a great storm of emotion at the way the goat-fucker spoke to Hector. Whereas I was swallowed by fury, Hector seemed to have enjoyed the reply.
Hector leaned as far in the chair as he could and spat. “Make. Me.”
“Believe me when I say, I will. By the time this trial has ceased, you will never want to open your mouth and spit your drivel again.”
I was equally impressed with Hector’s lack of fear, and concerned that Bahmet would actually take him up on the offer.Magic use or no, I’d find a way to stand in the fucker’s way if it came down to it.
Bahmet snapped his gaze to me, fixing me in place. “Hello again, old friend. I see those dark tendencies you hold inside your mind did not leave when you gave me up?”
“Come a little closer and find out,” I sneered, teeth showing like a rabid dog.
I meant my threat wholeheartedly.
Bahmet stood to side of the room, gloved hands clasped before his pressed suit. Piss-yellow eyes bore holes through each and every one of us in turn, the goat’s jaw clicking as if counting how many of us were left.
“I am going to refuse that offer for the moment, Arwyn.” My skin itched as the demon rolled my name out of his animal tongue.
He began to walk carefully towards the podium where he took his place behind it. Before he addressed us again, Bahmet straightened out the material that was messed up in the wind, fingers carefully pinching the sides down and smoothing out the creases with the care of something stroking the hair of their beloved.
“I must first apologise for the lack of care that has been put into the trial you are each about to face,” Bahmet began, still focusing on the podium instead of us. “The third trial was not supposed to be this one, but you see my hand was forced, and I had to rush to make amendments.”
My smile grew wider. Bahmet had just confirmed that our invoking of Hekate had forced his hand. We won, regardless if I didn’t know the sheer hell that we were about to face, it felt good knowing we had some control over our fate.
“Although, the more I think about it, the more I feel as though I should thank you.” The demon’s eyes lifted, settling onour coven. “If it was not for your… disrespectful acts, I would never have got to play with old toys.”
