Page 73 of Hallowed Games
He frowned at me. “And you wanted to know how to kill me?” He might be hundreds of years old, but in that moment, he looked young. Innocent, almost. “The wooden stake.”
My heart fluttered. “No, Maelor. Not you. I wanted to know how to kill Sion.”
“So, tell me.” He reached for a strand of my hair and twirled it around his finger. Then curiosity flickered in his expression as he searched my face. “Is that the only reason you wanted to seduce me? For information?”
I wavered for a moment between the impulse to tell him everything and keeping my cards close to my chest. The truth was, I could drown in his otherworldly beauty. I felt safe with him, despite what he was. “No, it wasn’t the only reason. I want you, and that’s real.”
At those words, shadows flared in his eyes, and his eyelids lowered. He leaned closer, pressing his hands on the stone wall behind me. As he did, his sandalwood scent wrapped around me. An agonized expression etched his gorgeous features. He sighed. “Ah, but you are forbidden.”
I reached up to slide my palm against the side of his face. He pressed his lips against mine, kissing me hungrily, desperately. His tongue swept against mine, and heat swooped through my body. I opened my mouth to his and wrapped my arms around his neck. My back arched, hips moving against him.
His kiss tasted faintly of a sweet whiskey. I stroked my thumb over his high cheekbone.
He pulled away, eyes dark with desire. Still searching mine, like he was trying to read the mysteries of the heavens in my face. He slid his tongue over a fang. As he did, he let out a soft noise, a low, tormented moan. “I have to go before I lose myself, Elowen. And I’m already forgetting why I came.” His voice was a harsh sigh. “I have to tell you about tomorrow. It will be the most difficult trial of them all. The Trial of the Abyss.”
I inhaled deeply. “What is it?”
He flicked his tongue over one of his fangs again, like he was still considering piercing my throat with them. “It’s different to the other trials. None of the Luminari will be watching this one. It’s too dangerous, even for them. Last time, we drugged you with temptations. This time? It will be terror.”
I closed my eyes, sighing. “Wonderful. I really needed more terror in my life.”
“The fear itself is not lethal, of course. But usually, during this trial, many of the contestants beat each other to death while suffering horrific hallucinations.”
I cleared my throat. “Is there any way to, I don’t know, switch the potions?”
He shook his head. “It won’t be a potion this time. It’s a toxic mist that will fill the dungeon. And I won’t be able to interfere with any of it because the Pater is more paranoid than ever right now.”
“Why?”
“Never mind that. Listen, tomorrow, the terror might make people violent. You’ll all be trapped in the dungeon together. But the Luminari won’t be there to see if you kill anyone. Pull off your gloves, and keep yourself safe.”
I shook my head. “I don’t want to kill these people.”
He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “Just stay alive. And this time, you can try to stay in reality by focusing on the feeling of the stones beneath your feet. Take off your boots and stockings, feel the cold of the stones. Use it to anchor yourself to reality. And look for shadows. The apparitions, the visions…they won’t have normal shadows. It’s how you can tell reality from the illusions.”
I nodded, my stomach already growing tight with tension. “Okay.”
“You’ll want to run into the tunnels, but don’t. That’s where the mist will come from. It will only get worse there.” He brushed his thumb over my lower lip. “You must get through tomorrow, Elowen. Kill whoever you need to. Please do whatever it takes to come back to me because I cannot take another death. I cannot take any more.”
CHAPTER 33
Dawn light pierced the window, and I sat up in bed to stare through the thick windowpanes. I rubbed my eyes, trying to shake off the fog of sleep. Immediately after breakfast, we would go to the dungeon for the Trial of the Abyss.
Some people might not know their worst fears, but mine was always in the forefront of my thoughts. My fears were as known to me as the feel of the wind against my skin. Because I’d had the nightmares a thousand times, and a thousand times, I’d jumped out of bed to make sure Leo was still breathing. In the dead of night, I always had to check that I hadn’t actually killed him with my touch while he slept.
Through the window, I felt the chill of a breeze slipping through the cracks, howling. It was cold for spring today.
As I stared out at the courtyard, a door opened at the ground level of one of the stone towers. I caught a glimpse of two figures, one of them tall, dressed in black. When I squinted, I could just about make it out as Maelor. He was practically dragging the other man along—a broken-looking figure, his head lolling forward. The man’s feet dragged over the cobbles.
The man had a shorn head, just like the Baron’s. For a moment, he lifted his face, and I could have sworn he was looking directly at me, green eyes piercing in the morning sun. A shiver rippled up my spine. The rest of his face was hardly recognizable, bruised and swollen, his jaw hanging open to reveal missing teeth. The man would be eating soup for the rest of his life. It didn’t matter how formidable he’d been before. Like everyone else, he’d meet his end gasping and terrified.
He and I could both be cruelly calculating, vicious. But that little flicker of pity I felt was what set me apart from him.
Right now, the Baron would think me weak.
And maybe I was. Because I’d been asking Maelor why he wouldn’t kill the Pater if he had the chance. But why didn’t I? Why not make the ultimate sacrifice? If I had the chance to simply brush my fingertips across the Pater’s cheeks, would I take it?
After all, what greater gift could someone have than a life that served a purpose?