My eyes flew open. The Oracle stood in the doorway, hands rigidly grasping the frame.
“This woman has no connection to the traitors,” she said. “You have no right to harm her. She is to be given a fair shot at the trials—as are all who stand accused.”
The nobleman named Icelus narrowed his eyes, glancing between us. Raising his hands, he softened his expression. “Perhaps I was being overly cautious. My apologies if I’ve delayed the next event.”
Glowering at the man, the Oracle helped me to my feet, wrapping an arm around my shoulders as she guided me out the doors.
“Are you alright?” She asked.
No. No, I wasn’t.
I needed to see the others. Eleos. Seth. I needed to see them alive and well.
“The next trial awaits,” the Oracle whispered, guiding me down the dim halls. “You, you must listen to my orders.”
Unable to speak, I lifted my chin to look at her.
“Gather the others together. Use your magic to create a safe haven. There, you’ll find salvation.”
A riddle. Maybe I’d understand when I saw the trial.
“This will be your one shot to escape.” She gazed at me gravely. “But so too will it be most likely to claim your lives.” We stopped at an ancient stone door. “I’m sorry.”
Pulling the door open, the Oracle pressed a gentle hand into my back. In my dazed state, it was enough to send me tumbling forward.
My feet slipped from the floor, and I tumbled through the hole waiting beyond the door’s threshold.
I landed in a pile of dirt. Pain screamed through my arms again—where Haimyx had stabbed me.
“Aethra!” Seraphim’s voice dragged me from the darkness. She grabbed my arms, and I hissed in pain. “Are you alright?”
We were trapped in a pit, surrounded by cavern walls on three sides and a heavy iron gate to our north. A spiked ceiling loomed ten paces above our heads.
Seraphim’s hair had come unbound from her braid, and wild strands caressed her cut-up face.
But she was alive.
“No,” I croaked. “I’m not.”
“Whatever comes, stay with me.” She took my hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.
I shook my head. “The Oracle just gave me our ticket out. We need the others.”
Seraphim moved to respond, but grinding steel drew her attention behind us.
The iron gate had begun to rise.
9
Eleos
Imprisonment was not something I was accustomed to. I didn’t like it.
Our captors had been kind enough to grant us a night of rest, albeit in a cold, hard cell. I hadn’t slept much. How could I? The only people I could call family were far out of reach, in perilous danger.
The guards behind me had concerningly little on their minds. Their emotions remained even, as they shepherded me through the halls—this was a job they’d held for decades. I was not a person to them, merely another soul of the thousands they’d escorted through the Duat.
We reached a stone door fastened with an elaborate padlock. A cell? Or the next trial?
