Page 43 of They're Watching You

“Oh, but we’re still waiting on our male victor,” Annabelle says vibrantly.

I want to be carried to my bed, so I can sleep until next week. But voices trickle in from the passageway, and I duck out to check on the commotion.

Leaning against a wall beside the table of bones, Gavin is wadding something up in his fist.

Opposite him, Remington stands with his eyes shut, his chest rolling in a set of long breaths. Then, passing me a quick nod, he presses on into the room.

I near Gavin, who stares down at the floor, unwilling to meet my gaze. “I did it for you, not forhim. And if Annabelle ever finds out I threw a game, she’ll probably drop me a station, or worse.” I swallow, my head spinning with visions of Polly trapped in that cell. “It was a brain game, just so you know.” His voice is calm and low; I’d rather have him blow up at me. “If the card had asked us to wrestle until the other guy cried mercy, at least that would’ve been believable. I had to wait forever for that idiot to figure it out.”

He shoves the card into my hand. BORN OF BATTLE AND SHROUDED IN CLOUD. TWELVE SETS OF EYES WATCH FROM ON HIGH. NAME THAT LOCATION.

I glance at the fresco before me, an uneasy feeling shifting in my stomach, like insects crawling over my intestines. Mount Olympus. The home of the gods.

“Gavin!” I call out, but he’s already headed down the corridor.

“Just get my phone back,” he says, his figure already fading to black.

My legs are too weak to chase after him. “Thank you,” I whisper to no one but the skulls.

I wander back into the room, where Remington is checking on Jordan in the center of the room.

“I’m really fine, I promise,” she says, blushing.

“Well then,” Annabelle says, sitting on the sill where I found Jordan, sipping wine from a chalice. “Jordan, if you’ll see your way to the entrance, I need to speak with the champions in private.”

“Oh.” Jordan glances out the door, paling. “I’m not sure I know the way. What if I just—”

“Don’t be silly. Take that corridor all the way down and make a right at the end.”

“We’ll catch up with you in a sec,” I assure her, still so relieved she’s alive but also wanting to keep her that way.

Jordan tiptoes out, brandishing her phone before her like a weapon. I turn to Annabelle. “Where’s Polly? I did what you asked. I won the game. Now give me back my friend.”

“Myfriend, if I remember correctly. Or at least she was, until I locked her up.” Annabelle shrugs, staring down at the bloodred liquid in her cup.

“Quit stalling, Annabelle,” says Remington.

“You always were so impatient, weren’t you?” She sets her chalice down on the ledge and glides toward Remington, her long dress train swishing across the stone floor as she looks him over.

“You promised information,” he says.

“And I make good on my promises.” She runs a hand over his bicep in a familiar way that makes my insides clench. “Show me the map.”

I flinch. How could she know I have the map?

As if reading my mind, Annabelle rolls her eyes. “I gave it to Donella, who was eliminated by you. Without the map, it would’ve been another hour before anyone stumbled upon this back staircase. Now, give it to me.”

I study her another moment, then tug the map from my back pocket and hand it over. This must mean she’s going to point out Polly’s location. Jane’s even.

Annabelle holds the drawing of the catacombs out on her palm, her other index finger doodling through the air above it. Her finger flicks up in dramatic fashion, slowly lowering with its sharp ruby-colored fingernail. But her finger swipes take a jagged turn, trailing off the page. “The location of your friends isn’t on the map.”

Bile rises in my throat. I stagger backward.

Remington catches me, letting me rest against his sturdy frame. “That’s not a clue, Annabelle.”

“It is. I’ve just eliminated every chamber on this map.”

“And added literally every other place on the face of the earth,” I mutter, snatching it back from her.

---