Page 51

I do not describe the faceless figure. Not yet. Nyra's shoulders relax slightly.

"I knew it couldn't be her." Her voice is low.

"But you followed." I add.

"Yes."

"Because knowing and hoping are different."

"Is that what happened to you?"

I shake my head. "No."

"I knew mine might be false."

"And you followed anyway." She nods. "Why?" I ask.

"Because it might not have been."

"Do you regret it?"

I look back toward the mist. The Trial recorded my deviation. It cost time. Possibly points. Possibly advancement.

"No."

"Neither do I."

Good. Our bracelets point in the same direction. That feels too convenient. We follow anyway. The forest continues testing us in smaller ways. A marker tells us not to speak. We obey until Nyra notices the path looping around the same tree. The moment we begin talking, the path opens. Another instructs us to discard our water to reduce weight. We ignore it. A third insists one of us must walk ten paces behind. Nyra steps backward.

I stop. "What are you doing?"

"Following the instruction."

"Why?" I ask.

"Because the last one punished us for obeying."

I think for several seconds. "So now you're obeying this one?"

"That is confusing." She frowns.

"That appears intentional."

We walk side by side. The marker cracks down the center. No consequence follows. By then, I am beginning to understand. The rules are not trustworthy. But neither is rebellion. The Trial is not asking whether we obey. It is asking why.

We hear Rowan before we find her. Not screaming. Swearing. Loudly

"—unreasonable, manipulative piece of enchanted woodland—"

Nyra looks toward me. "That sounds real."

I nod. "Painfully."

We follow the voice through the mist. Rowan stands on one side of a shallow ravine, arguing with a stone marker. The marker reads: WAIT UNTIL SUMMONED.

"When?"

The marker does not respond. "I have been waiting."