Page 38 of Hallowed Games

Across the platform, Sion emerged from another passage, materializing like a ghost out of shadows. When he stepped onto the stage, golden light kissed his tan skin. As he stood in the center of the platform, his hazel eyes slid over the crowd of Penitents, and he turned in a circle to survey us all. Based on the way he held himself, I had the distinct impression that he was enjoying the power that he held over us. Like a god, he craved worship, and his otherworldly beauty only helped the illusion.

He held his arms out. “We bring you down here, among the bones of the earth, to learn who among you is blessed by the Archon. Get through the maze by nightfall, or you will die. I’m afraid we won’t recover the bodies. Because you are Serpent-touched, you are condemned to eternal damnation whether or not you’re buried in consecrated ground. Only the one forgiven can reach heaven. The rest of you are damned.”

A panicked murmur rippled through the crowd. I met Percival’s determined gaze. If he was scared, he really wasn’t showing it. Maybe, like me, he was simply good at keeping his terror hidden.

“Anyone discovered using magic will be executed immediately,” added the Magister. “If you try to climb from the labyrinth, you will be shot by our archers.”

Gwyneth’s body shook, and her eyes had a manic look. She clasped her hands together, knuckles turning white. “The Archon will protect his most faithful servants.” She muttered this again and again, her words growing jumbled.

“Good luck with that,” said Percival dryly.

“May the Archon shine his light on you!” Sion’s words boomed over the stone. “Deus Invictus, Archon Magne. Let the trials begin!”

Chaos erupted around us, and my heart slammed with fear.

I grabbed Percival’s arm to slow him just a little. Gwyneth and her pious friend sprinted ahead of us.

“There are traps,” I whispered to my group. “Let others go first.”

“Archon save us.” Sazia’s cheeks had already grown pink. We’d barely started, and already, a single bead of sweat trickled down her temple. Her long fingers wiped it away. “If I die today,” she said with a sigh, “the Merthian woman’s name was Lady Ruthven. The woman who accused me. Make sure everyone knows she’s an absolute barbaric monster who barely knows how to read, and that she seduced me. She sent me a painting of herself nude. Beautiful painting.”

Godric’s shiny hair flowed behind him as he ran. “If Hugo and I survive, we will avenge you.”

Despite everything we’d been told, he didn’t seem to entertain the possibility that only one of them would live. It was oddly touching.

Shadows filled the passage, and moss climbed the stone walls. I breathed in air scented of the forest floor, of bones and soil. A sliver of sunlight streaked across the topmost part of the passages to my left.

We were hurtling toward traps, but standing still was just as dangerous. By the time darkness fell, we’d be torn to pieces if we didn’t make it out.

Footfalls and heavy breathing echoed off the stone walls as the crowd wheezed and puffed around us. When I glanced behind me, I found the tattooed man staring at me as he ran. That bastard was going to follow me the whole time, wasn’t he?

Already, my body glowed with sweat, and I lowered the cowl to let my head breathe. The Order had demanded we keep our cloaks on, but the heavy wool was weighing me down.

Up ahead, Gwyneth and her friend came to a fork in the passage. Two corridors jutted in either direction. The pair hesitated for only a moment, then took off to the right. A group of others went left.

“Which way do we go?” Godric asked through labored breath.

In my mind, I pictured where we’d come from and tried to put together a mental map using the angle of the sun. The path to the right, I thought, would take us back toward the start. I didn’t imagine the way out would be right by the entrance.

“Left,” I called.

We jogged behind the three strangers into a passage of cobblestones and vine-veiled walls.

When I stole a look behind me, confusion whirled in my skull. Now, no crowd hurried behind us. No tattooed man or group of Penitents hustling through narrow passages. Instead, a wall towered over us where the path had just been. It was as if an unseen god had leaned down and silently twisted the passages. I felt unsteady on my feet, as if I’d been dropped into a dream. Panic crackled through my thoughts at the realization that I could no longer trust my senses.

“What in the world?” I breathed.

Maelor had told me the passages might shift, but I hadn’t realized it would be this dramatic.

Hugo turned to stare at the new wall with me. “Am I dreaming? Is this all a nightmare?”

Godric whirled around, and he lowered his cowl. Sweat beaded his tan skin. “Bloody hell. Where did that come from? We’ll never be able to find our way out if it changes the whole time. And what happened to Guillaume the Dulcet? Because I still want to bash that arrogant prick’s head against a wall.”

“We keep going.” Percival slid his hand behind my back, ushering me forward. “Come on.”

“So it’s the nobility barking the orders, is it?” Godric grumbled. “Typical.”

“I am a knight of the realm,” said Percival. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I am more qualified to give orders than drug-addled melody-mongers.”

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