Page 62 of Hallowed Games

He pushed the door open, leaving me alone.

While I waited, I surveyed the little booth. Sinuous carvings snaked across the dark wood overhead, etchings of twisting vines and ripe fruit. The armrests of my chair, too, had been ornately carved into the form of human arms wrapped with coiled serpents. The burnished wooden hands caressed the snake’s head at the end of the armrests. In the dark mahogany of this booth, it was almost as if the Order wanted to make sure we never forgot the sensual allure of the Serpent.

I stroked a fingertip over the serpentine carving, feeling the smooth surface.

From the atrium outside, the scent of incense coiled in through the latticed window at the top. A long time ago, people had some anonymity in these places, with screens to shield the penitent and the confessor. But that had changed after the Harrowing. Of course, the Ravens wanted to know who exactly was delivering information to them.

Apart from killing Rufus, I’d never been in one of these before.

I pulled my cloak tightly around me, wondering if Maelor even planned to return. When the door groaned open at last, my chest unclenched.

It was now or never.

Under the wool, I crossed my bare legs. “What am I supposed to say in here, Maelor?”

He shrugged. “The Order wants you to unburden your guilt after the first trial. You might find that it’s freeing.” He shrugged slowly. “Or you could tell me about your visions of carnage. The ones you referenced last night.”

Did I feel guilty for anything? I didn’t feel guilty for what I was about to do, but neither was I ready to launch right into a seduction. Yes, my visions last night had been purely sensual, but that hadn’t been real. It was merely a product of my own fantasies. In real life? I had an inkling of how he might react, but I couldn’t know for sure.

What I did know was that it used to drive Anselm wild with desire to see me swim in the sea in my underwear. It was the way the white fabric went transparent and clung to my body, showing off the curves of my breasts. I think he loved the way it concealed and revealed at the same time. That’s why I’d wetted my chemise with water before coming in here.

Still, the thought of taking my cloak off right now sent my heart racing. What if he reacted with horror? Called the Luminari?

When I’m turned on, I’ll do anything for pleasure.

“Something on your mind?” he asked quietly.

“My curse.” I was stalling.

“What about it?”

“You asked about guilt.” I swallowed hard, closing my eyes. “I knew we weren’t supposed to give offerings to the old gods. I’d heard the Archon might curse those who gave offerings to the forest gods, but I did it anyway. I was sure at the time that one of the old gods lived in the weald that bordered the manor, but I no longer have any idea why I thought that.” I opened my eyes. “I’d been warned, and I broke the rules, and I ruined everything. The Archon cursed me, and the curse hurt everyone around me. I nearly killed Anselm when I touched him. There was a servant I killed by accident, a woman named Mary. And Lydia wasn’t around to heal her…”

My throat felt tight. None of this was going to plan, but Maelor was right. In a world where I always kept my real self hidden, maybe it did feel good to unburden myself. This was like lifting a weight off my chest. “Leo’s father was a gardener, like mine. His parents were both accused of being Serpent-touched, and I wonder if that was because of me. Because they found Mary’s body, and everyone knew someone at the manor was a witch. But it wasn’t me who went through the trials. It was Leo’s parents. Someone accused them. They survived the trials, but they burned on the pyre. So the Order left another boy at home, waiting for his parents who never returned.”

“But you weren’t the one who accused them,” said Maelor.

“I know. But then, somehow, it got even worse. Someone murdered my father, and I can’t even remember it happening. For all I know, it could have been me. And maybe I won’t let myself remember because sometimes, I like killing…” The words felt torn out of me as I realized I’d never admitted it before, not even to myself. “Sometimes, the Serpent himself commands me, and I can’t tell his thoughts from my own.”

Maelor’s eyes seemed to burn as he looked at me, and he leaned forward, taking my hands. “Elowen, it wasn’t you.”

“How do you know that?”

“I just know. I can tell when people are lying to me, and I can tell when they are lying to themselves.”

I leaned closer to him, breathing in his spiced scent, feeling a thrum of shadow power ripple off him. “You don’t think I’m capable of killing?” If that’s what he thought, he didn’t know me very well at all.

He arched an eyebrow. “I know you’re capable of killing. But I also know you will do anything to protect those you love because I watched you slaughter a Luminarus and steal a horse to get back to that boy. And he’s not even your own flesh and blood.”

My eyes stung, and I pulled my hands away from him. I was losing control of the situation. I was supposed to be subverting this confession, getting information from him. Not the other way around.

With a deep breath, I rested my hands on the carved mahogany snakes. I slid my fingers over the hard, smooth wood, turning over in my mind how to approach this.

I blinked, clearing the haze from my eyes. “What about you, Maelor? What kind of guilt eats at you?”

He still leaned in, resting his forearms on his knees. “More than you could possibly imagine.”

“How about allowing the Pater to live?” I whispered. “Do you feel guilty for that? You could kill him and maybe even get out of here alive before anyone even noticed. There’s a kid in these trials, you know. He looks like he’s fifteen, maybe younger.”

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