Page 79 of The Crow Games

Tell the other witches to go on, Nott said.My sister and I wish to talk to you.

My coven left me reluctantly. I didn’t like being parted from them either, our shared loss pulling us together tighter. The sisters’ death was a horrid reminder that our end was always around the corner in the games and we were the only force standing together to keep it at bay.

Nott and Mara walked on either side of me down into the stone tunnels.

My lovely sister has had a change of heart, Nott explained.

I glanced at Mara, who nuzzled my hand, demanding more pets.

She knows I tried to have her killed, Nott said, and my stomach dropped, though Mara seemed unfazed.Your adamant refusal has endeared you to her. She has a new proposition for you.

“I’m honored,” I said to Mara. “What is it you need from me, my lady?”

It was Nott who spoke for her.She will grant your request for a sigil, but only if you make amends with the Old One. She’s willing to risk the upset of the God King by disrupting his games, but not at the expense of angering the most powerful one amongst us at the same time.

I came to a halt, trying to process the request.

Nott nudged me forward.Will you do it? Will you apologize to the Old One? When you have his favor, you’ll have our sigils.

“I . . . I would, but I don’t know how.” I’d already tried to apologize to him once in the hopes that the Lord of Death would spare me from the games. That hadn’t worked.

Oh, but it’s easy. You just say—

“No, I mean— Sorry,” I added hurriedly when he hissed at my interrupting him. “I mean, I don’t know how to contact him.”

When I wish to talk to him,Nott said, I simply wait on the train until after the prisoners are delivered to the trials. He’ll seek you out then.

“My lord, I can’t stay on the train. I’m one of those prisoners. If I do, the Old One will rip my soul out and turn my body into a revenant.”

Nott chuckled.He’s less likely to do that if you make amends well. Be nice to him, pet.

I shook my head. “I don’t know, my lord . . .”

Mara yowled, showing off her ferocious teeth.

My sister is not a patient goddess. The decision is yours, but you had best do this tomorrow before Mara changes her mind. Apologize to the Old One in the morning when the prisoners are gone. Get your sigil. You and your coven of misfits could be out of the games in a matter of hours. How could you say no?

* * *

I contemplated my choices all evening. I ate with my coven. I wished Asher was there, but there was no sign of him and no telling exactly when I’d see him again. Over drinks, we discussed what the goddess wanted from me.

“If you stay on the train . . .” Nola whispered, unwilling to say the horrid part out loud.

“I know,” I said.

“But could he rip out your soul?” Ruchel asked. “I mean, being a gray must have some advantages in that regard, surely?”

Blue sipped her favorite tea to replenish herself. “I don’t have any advice for you,” she said. “I’m as eager to see the back of this place as the next witch, but with the stakes so high, this is a decision you have to make yourself.”

But I didn’t know what to choose.

Later that night, I paced inside Asher’s bedroom, hoping he would appear, knowing it was doubtful I’d see him for a few days, based on his other adventures with giants and spying.

I picked one of his journals at random and read from it until my vision was blurry and my spirit was as full as I could get it with my heart so heavy. I slept in his bed. It smelled like him.

Morning came. Trial one included the mist of nightmare shades, which immediately made me think of Emma and Liesel, and my spirits plummeted. Blue would be able to get the wax we needed from Talia. It was an easy trial. Not one my coven would need my help with.

I could stay on the train. Meet with Death. Apologize. Asher always talked about the Old One as though he were the reasonable god amongst the Otherworld deities, the one who didn’t treat prisoners with malice. Death could have killed me, but he hadn’t. He’d spared me. I couldn’t ask Asher what I should do, but I could make educated guesses about what he’d suggest from the things he’d shared in the past. Asher always stood up for his maker. Traitor or not, he seemed to care for his god.

---