Page 31 of The Crow Games

Emma held the glass of urine out in her hands, her tall green hat tucked under her arm. Small, brown, trimmed roots floated inside the concoction. The scent of ammonia stung my nostrils.

“We mixed a detoxing potion, combining Blue’s water spell—made from your water—and my earth magic to ensure you’re cleansed as quickly as possible. But . . .” Emma bit her lip.

“But you have to drink it,” Blue said bluntly, “and then your insides will feel like they’re trying to become your outsides. It will only get worse from there before you have any relief at all.”

Ruchel took the glass between her trembling fingers. She sniffed at it, and her nose wrinkled. “I think I’d rather die.”

“Oh, come off it,” Nola said, chuckling. “I’ve drunk beer that smelled worse than that swill. It probably tasted worse too. Chin up. Then when you’re done, we can talk strategy for the next trial. The train will stop soon.”

“Pinch your nose when you do it,” Liesel chimed in. I glanced at her, and her cheeks went pink. “It helps me when I have to swallow my medicine.”

Ruchel choked the concoction down, her lips blanching. She slammed the glass onto the table when she finished. Her chest heaved. “Ack. I was right. I’d rather be dead.”

* * *

The fourth trial had yet to start. Prisoners gathered on the platform outside Wulfram’s cast iron gates. The clock tower remained the same, but this part of the city of retribution contained larger buildings of dark brick spaced well apart. Tall sandstone walls turned the city into a great maze.

Ruchel and I warned the others about Asher’s sudden appearance and claim to our coven. The green sisters were relieved at the idea of a powerful crow ally. Nola took the news in stride.

Blue was as suspicious as I was. She voiced her skepticism boisterously, and I’d never liked her more.

Ruchel wobbled on her feet, too weak to carry her pack. All she had on her was a dagger and a water sack, and that seemed too much for her.

“I could carry those,” I offered.

She shook her head at me, her hand pressed to her belly. Then she vomited onto the platform. Bile and urine splattered my boots and the ebonized wood beneath my feet. A circle of space formed around our coven, separating us from the anxious mass of bodies pressing at Wulfram’s gates.

“Good. The detoxing potion is working,” Blue said. “You can pay me for it later.”

Ruchel wiped her mouth with her shirtsleeve, her glassy ochre eyes narrowed to angry slits. The clock struck the first hour, and the gates parted with a screech of metal. We moved slowly for Ruchel’s sake. She vomited again, which thankfully discouraged other prisoners from crowding us.

The sandstone walls stood tall and smooth. Unclimbable. Narrow passages and dead ends created dangerous battlegrounds for covens harboring grudges against other groups from trials past. Ruchel guided us away from the bloodiest of conflicts with her sharp instincts, but by the time the clock reached the third hour, her pace had slowed to a dangerous degree.

“At this lousy speed, we’ll never make the tower before the train leaves us,” Blue grumbled, not for the first time.

Nola turned on the stubborn witch, hands in fists and nostrils flaring. “I’ve had about enough of you!”

I stepped between them, arms spread. Liesel gasped and hid behind her sister.

Ruchel collapsed in the sandy soil, and the fight ended as quickly as it had begun. Liesel dropped down beside her, making a pillow for Ruchel’s head with her lap. Emma fanned her face, trying to cool her. Nola wet a red scarf from her pack and used it to dampen Ruchel’s lips and neck.

Her ochre eyes fluttered back open.

“There you are,” I said to her softly. “You scared us.”

“Leave me,” Ruchel rasped, and my heart sank into my boots.

“Stop talking nonsense and get back on your feet, you bricky bitch,” Nola barked.

Ruchel shook her head sluggishly. The swelling on her cheek was down, but she looked even worse than before. Her skin had gone waxy. “Leave me. I’ll catch up with you after the toxin passes.”

“We’re not leaving you for a passing warlock to find,” Nola said.

“Cover me with something and go,” Ruchel whispered, arms and legs sprawled out in the dirt like a starfish. She closed her eyes. “Your high witch commands it.”

Heavy silence fell. Emma and Liesel climbed slowly to their feet.

“Get. Up. Ruchel,” Nola said through gritted teeth. Her lip trembled.