Page 255 of The Mortal Trials

I’m already sick of this seer. And I swear to the gods if she mentions Abuela again in that slimy tone, I’ll knock her off that stool. “What do you have to do with our third trial? This,” I motion around the room, “seems a little too simple, given the other two we just survived.”

She takes another drink. “Your trial hasn’t yet begun. I told you, my wisdom is a gift to you.”

I narrow my eyes at her. “And I told you, I don’t want your prophecy. How do I enter the trial?”

“If you won’t hear my warning, perhaps you’ll listen to hers.” She points to a tall wooden door built into the marble wall on my right. The door didn’t exist a moment ago when I looked for an exit.

This feels like a trap.

The hair on my nape prickles. “Hers?”

The oracle lifts her face to the ceiling where a small hole focuses a single shaft of sunlight onto her shrouded head. The Pythia offers another bloody smile. “Carina sends her regards.”

My heart squeezes. And because she invokes my sister’s name, I remember to count to three.

One…

This is part of our trial. It must be. Which means something terrible is waiting on the other side of that door.

Two…

She’s lying. How can Apollo’s elect hear my sister? Carina doesn’t belong to Hades. Morrigan promised me that her soul rests with Lugh, and I believe Morrigan above all the divine.

“The two of you remind Ares of the twins, you know. When she went to the world with her clever words, he envisioned Carina as Castor.” The woman shifts forward.

The mosaic on my oikos wall flashes violently into my mind.

I abandon counting and snap, “I’m no Pollux. Do I look like an immortal to you?”

The veil may hide her eyes, but I feel her cold stare. “If you were, would you trade your divinity to bring your sister back?”

I ball my fists. Take a threatening step forward. “Even the gods can’t bring back a mortal who is dead.”

“If it was offered, would you want to become a goddess? There is a prize to be had in these games.”

I bark a laugh and shake my head in disbelief. The divine would never make a mortal their equal. Not if we win their trials. Not if we conquer our peers to win their games. This is one of their tricks. Rage overwhelms me.

“Liar!” I hiss, hoping the word echoes into the heavens straight to Apollo himself.

I cross over to the door she pointed at, refusing to spend another second in the Pythia’s sticky web. Her venomous words hit their mark, though. They worm their way through my mind, spreading rot.

Worst of all, for these past wasted moments, I forgot about Koda.

The legs of her stool scoot on the rock as she rises from it. There’s a loud crash, then a metallic clang as the table and goblet spill onto the floor.

Blood soaks the stone. The Pythia walks into the crimson puddle, leaving bloody footprints as she rushes toward me with her arms extended. “Wait! I need to share a message with you. It’s from Car—”

I wheel on her. “Finish her name, and I’ll drown you in your pretty fucking pool.”

Her dark lashes flutter and she clutches her chest, snarling like she’s never been spoken to with anything but reverence.

“Do you think he’ll come down and save you as you thrash?” I raise my brows.

Her angry gaze darts to the ceiling, then back. She swallows thickly.

She’s as mortal as I am and the last time I checked, mortals die if their heads are held under water.

The copper scent of the spilled blood mixes with the lilies’ sickly sweetness, swirling around me as I open the door and step into darkness, slamming it closed behind me.