Page 32 of Kiss of Embers
A witch in a black barasta with bright red embroidery piped up. “This Games is a joke!” He whirled and pointed at me. “That female is going to have two men guarding her steps.” He flicked his gaze from Brader to Drute, and his mouth twisted. “Maybe more from the looks of it.”
Anger burned my throat. “Drute isn’t a competitor,” I said. “But if you’re trying to make some kind of lewd suggestion, just spit it out.”
The witch smirked. “No suggestion necessary. We all have eyes.”
“For now,” Finn said silkily. He moved closer to me, his muscular arm brushing mine.
The witch paled. But he recovered quickly, whipping his gaze back to Bolveg. “Whether it’s two men or twenty, she has an unfair advantage. No one else here gets to compete with bodyguards.”
The crowd stirred as others voiced their agreement.
Bolveg spoke over the chorus of grumbles. “The Rules Committee considered this argument. Each of the three challenges demands different types of skills that require contestants to use their mental, physical, and metaphysical gifts. It’s an immutable fact that some contestants will haveadvantages over others in various stages of the Games. ” Bolveg pinned the witch with a hard look. “For example, witches and fae manipulate the elements. This is a gift werewolves don’t possess. So if you’re committed to fairness, I’m sure the goddess would be pleased to temporarily remove your magical gifts.”
Competitors exchanged looks. Murmurs raced through the clearing. A few darted glances at Inessa before ducking their heads.
“Clever demon,” Finn murmured, the hint of a smile playing around his mouth as he stared at the platform. His lips were sensual and well-formed. Soft-looking. They were a contrast to the rest of him, which didn’t appear to have any give at all.
Without warning, he flicked his gray gaze to mine, catching me in the act of cataloging his features.
I sucked in a breath and jerked my attention back to the platform.
“Any other complaints?” Bolveg asked. When the crowd stayed silent, he turned to Inessa. “Goddess, if you don’t mind getting us started.”
“I thought you’d never ask,” Inessa said. She pointed to a group of fae in the middle of the crowd. “Boys, if you could move out of the way, I need that spot.” The fae obliged her, leaving a smallish empty circle in the center of the clearing. In a mind-bending move, Inessa stepped off the platform and into the space, clearing the distance as if she’d taken an ordinary step forward. Flinging a spiral of red hair over her shoulder, she extended her hands over the ground and began to chant. But instead of words, she spoke…light. It spilled from her lips in the same golden stream she’d sent to the quill, only now it built and coalesced, forming into some kind of object.
The hair on my nape lifted. Finn stayed close, his arm not quite brushing mine. At some point, Struan must have sidled closer, too, because he was suddenly at my other shoulder. Drutewas a tall, frowning presence nearby, his wings tightly folded as he watched Inessa work.
Slowly, the light formed into a large, white bowl balanced on a thick pedestal. It was the Fountain of Truth, I realized, recalling Bolveg’s speech from the previous night. Every contestant would drink from it before beginning the first challenge.
At last, Inessa lowered her arms. The fountain glowed in the center of the clearing, its golden light illuminating the faces of the immortals around it. Water stood in the broad basin, the surface reflecting the moonlight.
Something made me look up. On the opposite side of the circle, Galen of House Baudelaire stared at me with cold, dark eyes. His hair was as black as a raven’s wing and scraped back from his face in a low ponytail. An equally black barasta hugged his wide shoulders. Murmurs rushed around me, unintelligible words ruffling my hair as if someone spoke inches from my face.
Curses.The witches traded in them, whispering them from afar. The dark magic could float in the air for years, sometimes centuries.
I blinked, and the whispers stopped. Galen no longer watched me. His gaze was trained on Inessa, his expression as curious as those of the men around him. As if he sensed my regard, Galen met my stare. His eyes were dark but no longer cold, his expression that of a person who just caught a stranger eyeing them for no good reason. He gave me a puzzled frown likewhat are you looking at?As my face heated, he turned his attention back to Inessa.
What was that?My heart thumped against my ribs, and disorientation swept me. Had I imagined the first exchange?
Next to the fountain, Inessa tapped a manicured finger against her lips. “Now, where did I put those catacombs… Oh! I remember!” She caught the eye of a vampire standing at the edgeof the circle. “It’s always the last place you look, you know?” She brought her hands together in an exaggerated clap.
At first, nothing happened. Then, the ground began to rumble. A low, mournful groan filled the air. The men around me shifted, widening their stances as they looked around for the source of the noise.
Finn and Struan stayed at my sides, flanking me like pillars as the rumbling grew into an earthquake. Drute spread his wings, clearly trying to keep his balance.
A sinkhole opened next to the fountain. The competitors at the front of the circle moved back, their eyes wide as the groan swelled and the sinkhole grew larger. A plume of dust rose from the ground.
Bolveg cast a worried look from the broadening sinkhole to Inessa. “Are you sure this is safe?”
She gave the crumbling soil a thoughtful look. “What an interesting question.”
On the outskirts of the clearing, trees swayed wildly. A crack split the air, and one crashed to the ground.
Struan grabbed my arm, his thick fingers circling my bicep. “Look sharp, lassie. If things go south, Finn will channel us out of here.”
I opened my mouth to tell him I wasn’t leaving when, suddenly, the shaking stopped. The horrible groaning sound ceased, and silence fell over the clearing. People coughed and swatted at the air. As the dust cleared, what had started as a sinkhole emerged as a set of ancient-looking stone steps. About twenty feet wide and dotted with moss, they descended into the ground as if they’d always been there.
Inessa swept an arm toward the stairs. “There you have it. The Catacombs of Uzgal.”