7
Aethra
Maiden’s grace, my head hurt. Phaedrus at least had the decency to slip narcotics in our drinks, rather than bash us over the heads. Now we had to face the Duat with concussions.
Flinching, I reached for the throbbing ache on my head, but shackles chafed my wrist, limiting my movement. Fingers dug into my arms as someone grabbed me from behind and hauled me to my feet.
Fire burst to life as a golden guard struck a torch and held it aloft.
Had we moved? Ancient pillars supported a natural rock ceiling far above, and cracked stone tiles stretched beneath my feet, stopping at the edge of an underground lake. A robed man dragged me to a tiny boat waiting at the shore and threw me in.
I landed hard on my knees and struggled to right myself with my hands bound behind my back. The hooded figure turned back and grabbed another prisoner. But it wasn’t someone I knew.
A young woman was forced into the boat behind me. Dirtencased her tattered toga and smudged her youthful face. Rounded eyes lit with fear darted around the boat before scanning the water.
The Oracle had said others would face the Duat with us. What could this girl’s crime possibly be?
Perhaps nothing. I had done nothing wrong, either.
Leaning back, I tried to comfort her, but the robed man stepped between us. Dipping an oar into the water, he propelled the boat away from the rocky shore.
A lone lantern hung from a hook on the boat’s prow, illuminating the cavern walls, but the dark waters remained impenetrable. Peering over the edge of the boat, I stared into its black depths, wondering what this trial would entail.
And how I would be ‘sacrificed.’
Carvings decorated the cave walls, rising from the water level to the ceiling. Heroes fought great beasts in some. Other displayed grotesque figures writhing as they were tortured by jagged instruments. A winged horse soared above the various battles.
A faint smile tugged at my lips. I knew that one. Ainwir had taken me to a play that I could remember nothing of save the Pegasus. As a child, I’d been enamored with the creature.
The final carving stood out to me: a man with a great scythe, cloaked in black with eyes of deepest red. Haimyx.
The girl behind me whimpered. Twisting to look past the robed man, I tilted my head. “Are you alright?”
Her eyes shot to me, and she shook her head. The oar rose from the water, and our chaperon brought it down on my back with a crack.
“Keep quiet,” he ordered.
Wincing, I turned around. The oar plunged back into the depths, propelling us deeper into the reservoir.
Sliding to the bottom of the boat, I worried about the others. They were talented mages, but what did that matter in a place meant to kill us?
The boat slowed to a stop as the robed man lifted his oar. Grabbing my collar, he hoisted me up. “Eldest first,” he said, before throwing me overboard.
I struck the surface and sank, frigid cold seeping through my skin into my bones. Flailing, I kicked my legs, trying to swim without the use of my arms. A dark shape plummeted through the depths beside me—the other girl.
My heart thumped, and my mind raced. I bit my lip, trying to focus.
One of Ainwir’s many lessons echoed in my thoughts: panicking would lead to death.
With one final kick, I managed to break the surface of the water. Gasping for breath, I saw the only light drifting away as the boat rowed back from whence it came.
Water filled my mouth as I dipped below the surface again, and I coughed as I twisted my wrists, trying to wrench them around my feet to my front.
A freezing wave lapped over me, dragging me back down. Forcing my eyes open, I strained to see in the pitch dark, but met only shadow.
I slipped my wrists around my legs and reached for my hair, breaking the surface again as my numb fingers felt around for a hairpin. The girl’s head appeared a few paces away, gasping and struggling.
“Hold on,” I called, yanking the pin loose and trying to fit it into the shackles. “I’ll come get you.”
