Page 66 of Hallowed Games

“I hope you’re thankful for all we’ve done for you so far.” Sion’s gold eyes twinkled with a violence that made me want to run the other way. “The food, the soft beds from the Order. We’ve given you a chance to survive, even if we should have burned you all by now.”

I let out a long sigh. I didn’t care if he looked like a god; his arrogance made my stomach turn. Shadows seemed to slide from his dark, velvety robe, mingling with the mist. Did anyone else notice?

He stalked closer to us, graceful as a cat. “If you want to live the rest of the night, you must find your way out of the garden before your candle goes out. If your flame dies, you will, too. All you must do to get out is answer three riddles, and you can walk free from the garden.” A faint smile flitted over his lips, and cold power radiated off his body. “But this is a trial. Before you enter our cloister garden, you’ll sip from the nectar of temptation.” Those rich gold eyes flicked to me. “When you do, all your forbidden desires will stir in the darkest parts of your mind. And as temptations cloud your thoughts, you won’t remember why you need to get out of the garden. All you’ll remember is the need to taste forbidden fruit.” He was gazing directly at me as he said, “Don’t let your wanton lust take over your mind.”

My heart fluttered.

Sion pulled his gaze away again, his expression growing bored. He sighed. “So do try to stay focused, and keep that candle lit.”

Maelor stalked closer to us, and he offered the chalice to Hugo. Hugo looked a little too eager to drink from the mind-altering elixir.

Dressed in white, the Pater glided forward, looking like a spirit from another world. My heart skipped a beat when I realized he was staring directly at me, a sharp line between his eyebrows. As Maelor went from one Penitent to another, lifting the chalice to their lips, the Pater walked closer to me.

He stopped directly in front of me, and revulsion skittered over my body. “Magister. Did you interrogate her thoroughly?”

Sion smirked. “Do you doubt my brutality?”

“It’s just that I don’t see any marks,” snapped the Pater.

Sion arched an eyebrow. “The worst scars aren’t always visible, are they?” A sharp edge undercut his deep, velvety tone.

I took a sharp breath. Was Sion trying to help me or just save his own skin?

The Pater’s lip curled. “When I was a boy, King Ambrosius V created a famine in the north.” He turned to me. With a leather-gloved hand, he gripped my chin. “Did you know that, little witch?”

I was pretty sure that was a rhetorical question, so I kept my mouth shut.

The Pater dropped my chin again with a look of disgust. He pivoted away from me, and he began pacing before the crowd. He folded his hands behind his back. “Ambrosius V said we didn’t pay enough tax. What he really wanted to do was to starve us all to death. He took everything we grew.”

Maelor stood before Percival, raising the chalice to his lips.

The Pater pivoted again, marching before us, his eyes on the ground. “In the north, Ambrosius turned the living into the dead, and a garden of bones stretched from Eboria to the cursed walls of Sumaire. He wanted to make room for the wealthy farmers from the south.” His deep, haunted voice sent a chill down to my marrow.

He was staring at me again. “You probably don’t learn about that on your rich southern coast, do you? About the peasants in the north? The living skeletons who tried to fill their bellies with soil and tree bark? You didn’t learn about the parents watching their children’s cheeks grow hollow as empty graves.” His voice rose to a shout, spittle flying from his lips. “And you didn’t learn what it means to feast on the dead as they fall, to feel the horror of devouring what’s left of your loved ones. To become a ravening animal instead of a man. That was the work of the Serpent. You may think our trials are brutal. But you don’t know true cruelty, little witch. That comes from the dark touch of the abyss. The Serpent’s evil infected Ambrosius, as it infects you.” His voice rumbled over the horizon like thunder.

I held my breath, certain I was supposed to keep my mouth shut.

“Because you never crawled through a barren field, chewing on moss, knowing that death was stalking closer. You never considered what it would be like to kill a man for a rotten crust of bread. And you never watched your sister die, then considered…” He trailed off, then blinked. “Nor were you ever saved by the Archon himself. Chosen by him to lead us out of that darkness. You never saw his light, so blinding and pure, or heard his voice in your mind. You only hear the voice of the Serpent. I know that, witch, because I can see the darkness in you. The Archon never blessed you with a blazing certainty that your life’s one purpose, your one mission, was to rid the world of evil. It was me he chose.” His eyes burned. “The Archon chose me.” It sounded as if sorrow sang in his haunted voice, and it rumbled through my gut. “I am his messenger, appointed by him to carry out his will on earth. He spared me from the famine so that I would not fail him. Do you understand, you Serpent-touched whore?”

I simply stared at him. He’d worked himself into a fervor, and whatever was coming next would not be pleasant.

He seemed to snap out of a trance, and he let out a sigh. “Good. Now you all understand my mission. You know why I don’t lie in a grave with the rest of my family. I was chosen.” He darted closer to me, shaking. “So how about we see those hidden scars right now? And please don’t plead modesty because we all know what you truly are.”

Sion’s gaze moved slowly to mine. His body was still as stone.

My heart was racing as I tugged at the fingertips of my leather gloves, and I pulled them off. Gripping the gloves in one hand and the candle in the other, I turned over my wrists. In the dusky light, the Pater stared at my pink, warped skin. A cold breeze slid over my bare flesh.

It would be so easy to simply reach out and touch his face…

But then I’d never seen Leo again.

“Good,” the Pater whispered as he stared at my scars.

A sharp snap of cold iced the air, and I met Sion’s gaze. His jaw muscles flexed, eyes narrowing at me. Darkness bloomed around him, billowing like smoke in the mist.

The Pater kept staring at my disfigured wrists. “The Serpent lives in this one. Only pain will bring an animal to heel. Put the gloves back on.”

Sion’s cold gaze was still locked on me, his eyes glinting with shards of gold. I pulled the leather gloves on again.

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