Page 131 of The Mortal Trials

“Torsten!” his mother chastises.

But he just laughs, taking the boy when August pushes him forward and tossing him beside me. I pat the poor kid’s back as he coughs, wiping his face on his sleeve. He shivers, both from the cold and shock, I imagine. I pull him into my side as Cillian and August scramble to safety. Ripples spread from where they were just swimming as the beast swims past.

Torsten and his mother turn to leave, but Torsten stops and freezes, staring ahead. I don’t see a threat between us and the portal. Did he forget something?

A group of people up ahead – Niall and Fiona, Koda and a girl I assume is his granddaughter, Tae and her father, Elias and his brother, maybe? They embrace and exchange words with their loved ones. Two by two, they turn to finish the race, all abruptly stopping like Torsten did.

What’s going on? No one is running to the arena like they should be. Is something else lurking in the ash grounds?

“We need to go,” I breathe to Cillian.

August scoops his brother up.

The moment I take a step toward the portal, everything goes dark. I can’t see my feet. Or my hand when I wave it in front of me. There’s no bright doorway in the distance. I see nothing at all.

“Come on,” Cillian says. His footsteps trail away. “Cal, come on. What are you waiting for?”

Ragged breath tears from my lungs. “Cillian, can you see?”

Footsteps return. “Of course I can see. Can’t you?”

“No.”

“I can’t, either,” August pants.

Fabric rustles as my brother moves to look around us. “It looks like none of the contestants can. Everyone’s stopped.”

I stop to think. “Torsten said that river represented the Lethe. If that’s true, then maybe this whole trial is based on the Underworld. Eurydice had to follow Orpheus out. If he looked back at any point to make sure she was there – if he didn’t trust her to walk behind him – she’d have to stay.”

“But I can look back at you,” Cillian argues.

“I think it’s a sort of twist, or a reversal. From behind, Eurydice could see Orpheus as they walked. She followed him without question. You need to lead me out of here, knowing I won’t be able to see you.”

“I can do that,” he says.

“Good. Because if we don’t make it to the portal, we won’t make it out of this trial.”

Cillian mutters, “Ò mo chreach!” Something our father used to say. Oh my ruin.

Carina taught it to him when he was just a boy. A simple bridge to a man he couldn’t remember but desperately longed to.

“I’ll just take your hand,” Cillian says. I hold mine out, waiting, but never feel him grasp it. “Callalie, something’s keeping me from touching you.”

“I don’t know what to do,” August’s brother says nervously from my right.

My brother is more than capable, but the gods expect a child to guide August out of the ash lands? “Cill?”

My brother kneels beside August’s brother. “What’s your name?”

The boy hesitates.

August tells him, “It’s okay. Cillian and Callalie are my friends.”

“Callalie?” the small voice squeaks.

“That’s right,” August confirms.

“Callalie Ryan?” the boy repeats excitedly.