Chapter Thirty-six
’m falling. My stomach lodges in my throat, and I’m falling so fast I seeI only a smear of stone and snow and white and grey whipping past. My hair tangles in my eyes and my mouth and my ears as I continue plummeting.
I was wrong.
I should have passed through the illusion, but this drop is very, very real.
I’ve just sealed my own death. A scream tears from my throat as I continue falling faster and faster, the wind ripping at my clothes and my eyes watering, tears streaming across my cheeks. I’m a stone sinking to the bottom of a lake.
A bird whose wings have been clipped. A defiant angel banished from the heavens.
But then the air shifts, warmth billowing up and enveloping me before I
crash into a hard but pliant surface, rolling end over end until I come to a stop.
Lying on my back, I blink up at a clear blue sky, waiting for the world to stop spinning. My chest flutters with my tight breaths, abject terror still
pumping adrenaline through my veins.
Holding still, I allow the new sounds and sensations of my environment to sink in. It’s warm and humid. There are birds chirping and the unmistakable rush of a breeze rustling through leaves. With my arms stretched out on either side of me, I feel blades of soft grass tickle my palms. And the sun, oh the glorious sun, shines down in welcoming beams of molten pleasure. My
fingers and my toes burn as they thaw, the buzz both agony and bliss. For the first time in days, I wiggle my joints without the biting restraint of frost.
This is it. I’m never leaving or moving from this spot. Have I finally died?
This feels so much like the day I woke up in the Sun Palace after Gabriel took me from the Hollow.
My stomach growls with a painful twist, suggesting I must still be alive, and this is the next leg of the challenge.
Reluctantly, I force myself up and take in my surroundings. I’m in a grassy clearing bordered by high, neatly clipped hedges, all of them lush with emerald green leaves and covered in small yellow flowers. Large trees dot the clearing, erupting with apple blossoms, their trunks wide and their roots thick
with age. Still blinking at the onslaught of sunlight, I search for the telltale sparkles that confirm this is yet another false reality created by Atlas.
But a honeysuckle scent wafts on the breeze, catching my attention. It’s sweet and delicious and tickles a long-buried memory of a warm, cozy kitchen in a small house in the woods where I stood on a stool, helping knead
dough for sweet buns, preparing them for the oven.
Spinning around, I take in the incomprehensible sight before me.
A long, massive table sits surrounded on three sides by the tall hedges,
covered in food. There are towering tiers of desserts, covered in dainties as bright and colorful as gemstones. Tureens of chicken in creamy sauces. Vivid
pink juice in crystal pitchers and thick slices of dewy fruit piled on golden plates.
Immediately, I’m on my feet running for the feast, my stomach protesting painfully after days of consuming nothing but stolen raindrops.
I skid to a halt in front of the feast, not sure where to start first. It looks like perfection. I know I should distrust this. We’re in the middle of a trial and
this has to be a test, but I’m so hungry, and surely they wouldn’t poison us?
I scoff at my own continued naivety. Of course they would.
A moment later, I hear a cry and spin around to find Apricia vaulting for the table like her pants are on fire. Tesni and Halo are close behind, their eyes wide with disbelief. Apricia whizzes past me and moves in on a giant turkey leg dripping with fat and juices. She holds it up and bares her teeth while I shout, “Wait! You don’t know if it’s safe.”
But, unsurprisingly, she pays me no mind and is already tearing out her second bite, her other hand digging straight into the center of a tall chocolate cake. She scoops out a chunk and stuffs it into her face.
Keeping watch for signs that anything is amiss, I study her like a specimen
under a magnifying glass. How fast does poison work? Will she froth at the mouth immediately or will it be a slow sort of death, like being stretched by a noose?
Tesni is at the table now too, devouring hunks of white cheese and a lobster tail dripping in butter. Halo and I exchange a glance and then,
deciding it seems okay, we both approach the offering.
Throwing caution away, I bite into a fluffy loaf of bread, the crust crumbling all over the front of my soiled tunic. Then I down a giant glass of
lemonade filled with clinking chunks of ice. My parched throat practically cracks in relief before I reach for a second. Stuffing a piece of roast beef in
my mouth, I chew thoughtfully, one ear trained on our surroundings. Maybe this is a reward for solving the illusion. Still, this seems too easy.
I venture a few more bites. A peanut butter square. A slice of vanilla cake.
A piece of poached chicken. And water. All the water I can drink. It’s so good I moan in ecstasy. I’m so distracted by the food, I haven’t even had time to truly appreciate how warm I am. The air is so thick my tunic clings to my
body, my hair sticking to my forehead.
I stuff a crispy pastry in my mouth, the raspberry center bursting on my tongue, when the ground rumbles like we’re stranded on top of a hungry whale. Of course, this was too good to be true. It’s then I notice the breaks in the hedges, forming tunnels that lead away from where we’re standing. I stop eating, trying to understand what’s causing the shaking and what direction it’s coming from.
The others have noticed it too, their eyes darting from one corner of the clearing to the other, but nothing materializes.
“What is that?” Halo asks, her voice wobbling. Something terrible is coming for us. I can feel it in the very marrow of my bones.
Movement in the periphery of my vision snags my eye and I whirl, catching the back of a figure darting between the hedges. Compelled to investigate, I head to the entrance of the maze and stop, peering into the darkened, leafy corridor. The figure is no longer visible, and before me is an empty stretch of nothing. When I look back at the other Tributes, they’re all
watching me with careful expressions.
“Don’t go in there,” Halo says, her voice soft.
I shake my head, understanding there is no option.
“We have to. This is the challenge.” I take another step, the shadows of the tall hedges falling over me, the air growing cooler. Another movement grabs
my awareness. Someone is now standing at the far end of the tunnel, their features obscured by the distance. I walk further inside, the panicked shouts of Halo following me and imploring me to come back.
But I can’t.
This is the final challenge, and I’m so close to getting everything I want.
So close to getting my crown and my magic after all these years. So close to
getting Tristan and Willow back. So close to exacting my revenge on the Aurora King.
Picking up my pace, I break into a slow jog, sweat already breaking out on my forehead. The dry cold wind has been replaced by a heat so cloying it’s sticking to the roof of my mouth. When I breathe, it’s like trying to draw breath from a brick wall, but I press on, knowing this is the path I must navigate on the tightrope of my future.
The leafy corridor seems to grow longer as I run, but I’m catching up to the figure waiting at the end. From this distance, it appears to be male. Tall and lean with a shock of dark hair. He wears a tunic of some undetermined color. Grey or brown, perhaps. I squint, wondering if my eyes are deceiving
me. It can’t be. My mind is playing tricks.
The figure breaks around a corner and disappears through the leaves. Not willing to lose him, I pick up my pace and sprint for the spot where I think he vanished. I catch another fleeting glimpse of his back, and then I’m running again.
We chase around corners and down narrow pathways until I’m so turned around I have no sense of the direction I’ve gone. All I can see is a stretch of green walls in every direction and a strip of blue sky overhead. Taking a
moment to catch my breath, I listen, wondering where the other Tributes have gone. I couldn’t find my way back to them now if I tried.
A rustle in the leaves catches my attention and I take off again, turning a corner into a small courtyard with a stone fountain in the center. On the opposite side of the fountain stands the man I’ve been chasing.
My heart stops and my breath breaks in my lungs, my knees melting out
from under me.
Tristan.
“Tris?” I whisper, hope filtering into the chinks of my voice. Our gazes meet and the world spins out on its axis. What is he doing here? Tears pool in my eyes. I’ve never been so happy to see anyone or anything in my life. But why is he just standing there staring at me? Something feels off. His eyes don’t look right. They’re distant and fractured, and it feels like he’s not even seeing me. “Tristan?” I take a step forward, reaching for him. “Are you okay?”
Not answering me, he pivots on his heel and sprints out of the clearing, once again dissolving into the darkness of the maze. “Tristan!” I run to the spot where he just disappeared, finding no trace of him. “Come back, Tristan!” I scream so loud my voice cracks, despair bleeding out in corrosive
drips. “Please! Come back!”
I run. I don’t know what direction he went, but I run. Screaming his name again and again, I peer down every opening and path, hoping for a trace.
Sweat puddles down my back and my temples, the humidity encasing me in a viscous bubble. Using my sleeve to wipe my forehead is useless and does
nothing to cool the blood boiling under my skin. Still hunting for my brother, I scramble blindly, desperate for another glimpse.
A moment later, I go flying, landing on the soft grass, my knees and hands
skidding against the rough grain. Too winded to move, I suck in several deep breaths before I roll over with a groan and sit up. My knees and my palms are
stained with green. It’s then I notice what tripped me.
A sword.
A gleaming silver sword lies in the path. It’s simple but elegant, with a golden hilt and a single crystal-clear jewel at the end. I look around, wondering who left it here, but I seem to be alone. The only sound is the gentle rustle of a breeze moving through the leaves. I pick up the sword,
testing its solid weight in my hand. Part of me is happy to have an extra layer of protection, but another part is wondering why the maze has gifted me this.
It can only mean I’m going to need it.
A scream demands my attention and I take off running again, trying to follow its source. It doesn’t sound like Tristan, though. It’s higher pitched, and my heart does a hopeful leap in my chest. Maybe it’s Willow. But she’s screaming, so maybe I should be careful what I wish for. I rub a hand down my sweat-slicked face, confused by this conflicting tangle of thoughts threatening to split my head open.
“Willow?” I yell. “Is that you?” The screams have transformed into pained whimpers, and they seem to be coming from just beyond the hedge.
“Willow,” I chant over and over again, trying to will her into existence.
It’s not Willow on the other side, though, it’s Halo. She’s kneeling on the ground, her face buried into the chest of a body. Her anguished sobs fill the air as I realize the body she’s clinging to is Marici. Blood stains the front of her pale yellow gown, her skin ghostly white.
Dropping the sword in my hand, I fall to my knees and wrap my arms around Halo.
“She’s gone,” Halo moans, her voice low and keening, her hands clutched
to her stomach. “What did they do to her?” She looks at me as though I hold the answer, and I shake my head.
“I don’t know, I’m so sorry, Halo.” Marici’s dead blue eyes stare at the sky and I reach over and gently close her eyelids, her skin clammy to the touch.
“I don’t want to do this anymore,” Halo says. “I never wanted this. I want out.”
She lifts her head up and screams. “Do you hear me? I don’t want to be a queen! I never wanted it! This contest is barbaric! You’re all animals!” She
stands up, her fists balled at her sides, blood streaking her tunic and cheek.
With her chin tipped to the sky, she shouts, “Get me out of here!”
“Halo!” I jump up, wrapping my arms around her. “Calm down.”
She struggles against my hold, tears streaming down her cheeks, her fists beating at my chest. “No! I want out! Kill me! Lock me up! I don’t care! I won’t serve the Sun King for another moment! He’s a monster!”
She shrieks, her hands clasped on either side of her head, and then suddenly goes silent, her chest heaving in and out in ragged gasps. Again, I wrap my arms around her, trying to give her something to cling to. She drops her face against my neck, her warm tears mingling with the drops of sweat sliding down my throat.
“Why won’t they let me leave?” She grasps my tunic like she’s drowning, and I decide that’s exactly how she must feel.
“I don’t know,” I whisper, smoothing her hair. “I don’t know.”
They brought me here to compete for an honor in this beautiful place of brightness and golden light. It seemed so different from Nostraza, but as Halo
clings to me and Marici’s mutilated body lies at my feet, I realize that this, too, has all been an illusion. They pretended I was from the slums of Aphelion. Paraded me around as an example of what one could achieve if
they believed. If they worked hard enough. But why did The Umbra ever have to exist when a few nights ago I slept in a bed made of gold? Aphelion
is no different from Nostraza. The surroundings might be gilded with rivers of gold, but this is a prison, just the same.
But I can’t give up. I don’t have that luxury, and I still need to win. My chance at this kind of freedom is so close I can taste it.
If I’m a queen, everything will be different.
There’s a rustle from the leaves as Halo sobs quietly against me, and I
wonder if it’s Tristan, my blood chilling to a sluggish pace. What if whatever they did to Marici happens to him? Are they trying to destroy us completely?
I have to find him. Why did he run from me? But I hesitate. I can’t leave Halo alone, either.
The leaves on the far side of the clearing rustle again, and a figure steps out.
My vision catches fire and my chest fills with stones.
Willow.
