“Is this it, do you think?” I whispered. “We have to get across the room to the other side?”
“Seems too easy,” Brodin said.
“Nothing here will ever be simple,” Akimi said. Her gaze fell on me like a heavy weight. “Please remember this.”
“Sure,” I said with fake confidence. Inside, I couldn’t stop trembling, though I didn’t know why.
The room brightened as if the clouds overhead had parted to expose the suns, revealing the grayish-white piles on the stone floor. We’d stepped into a room filled with bones.
The door banged shut behind us.
Jacey moaned, a low, pain-filled sound. She stumbled past me and tumbled down the short flight of stone stairs to the pit below. The moment her foot connected with a bone—a femur from some sort of creature—a deep hum filled the room. It cut off and we stared at each other with wide eyes.
“Don’t touch anything else,” I said. “Something might be pissed off we’re here. No need to stir it up further.”
While she must’ve heard me, she still fell onto her knees. Her hands plunged into the bones. Another humming note rang out, then more, until the room was filled with a cacophony of jarring music. A haunting melody, it shivered across my skin, raising the fine hairs wherever it touched.
Jacey fell onto the bones and lay there, sobbing, while the notes chimed around us.
I slapped my hands over my ears.
Once Jacey remained still, the music stopped. My ears still pounded, but I lowered my hands. “What’s she doing?”
Brodin shrugged. “Maybe she thinks some of the bones belong to Rohnan.”
“How can she tell if any of them are his?” I said softly, afraid speaking up would make the horrendous melody begin all over again. “They could belong to anyone or no one at all. They could also be props left here to scare us.”
Brodin jumped onto the lower level and stooped down beside a long, curved bone resembling a giant tusk. “They’re not fake. No doubt about that.”
I shivered. How many wizards and creatures had died to create this enormous pile of bones?
Jacey climbed to her feet and reeled on us. “Don’t call them props. They’re real. From witches like us, creatures who lived and breathed…” She gulped. “Beings who were loved.”
Akimi shot me a look filled with scorn, sharp enough I winced. She floated down the steps and picked her way among the bones, taking care not to touch them, until she reached Jacey. The two spoke together in a hushed murmur.
Again, I felt left out, and I resented it. Jacey was my roommate, not Akimi’s. Akimi was a friend, yes, but she was new to our group and, as Brodin had wisely pointed out, still being tested.
Brodin joined me on the top step. “Standing there won’t make things happen, and I thought you were all about taking charge.” He leaned in close and lowered his voice. “If you wait too long, they’ll get ahead and you’ll be straggling at the rear of the pack.” He swept his arm forward but while his eyes softened, he didn’t smile. Who could? We were surrounded by the remains of others.
When I remained on the step, frozen, he joined Jacey and the three looked back at me. As if awaiting my lead again or trying to decide if my spontaneous actions had doomed them, they glared. Why had I forged ahead without my friends? It made no sense.
I stumbled backward and hit the wall. My hands flew out and my fingers made contact with the surface.
The tension spiraling inside me eased, and I jutted off the wall, my confidence restored. I strode down the steps and walked up to them. And while I felt emboldened, the restored energy couldn’t stop me from cringing due to the crunch beneath my sneakers.
“What’s that?” Jacey pointed to the archway. “Looks like a series of wooden posts.”
They were lined up on a raised platform between us and the door.
“’Tis the next test,” Akimi said as if she knew. She started toward the posts. “Shall I lead this time?” She picked her way among the bones and somehow, didn’t touch a single one.
“Let me,” I said, tumbling past her, smiling in what should be reassurance but what felt more like arrogance. I shoved aside the wash of embarrassment that came with the thought. There was nothing wrong with acting strong or taking control. In a guy, it would be called leadership. “I started this. I’ll finish it.”
“We are a team,” Akimi whispered behind me. “Please do not forget that.”
Were we, or was each of in this only for ourselves?
With each step, I nudged aside bones. The discordant gongs raised from them by my passage grated on my nerves. I clenched my teeth and kept going, soon reaching the steps leading up to the platform.
I crept up the stairs and studied the seven posts evenly spaced across the stage. Made of wood, the posts were topped with what looked like thin, light blue pillows. Totally strange to find pillows here, given the situation. I reached toward one to touch but Brodin came up behind me and grabbed my arm, holding me back. “I don’t think we should jump into this. We’ve been leaping without thinking throughout this entire test.”
While he said we’ve, it sounded more like you’ve to me.
I wrenched away from him. “You’re talking about me.”
He closed his eyes a second and growled. “I’m talking about all of us,” he said softly. “We’ve been too bold, too confident throughout this Challenge. We need to be careful or the catacombs will use that against us.”
“I won’t let anything do that to me.” I linked my arms on my chest.
His lips twisted. “No?”
“No!”
“Have you listened to yourself since we entered the maze?”
I squirmed. “In what way?”
“You’re not yourself, Tria. Not the person I…”
“What?” Reaching up, I turned his face my way with my fingers.
“Something has changed. I don’t like it.”
That stung. “You don’t like me.”
“I didn’t say that. You know I do.”
“Here we go again. You toss me something sweet to cling to then haul it back, saying we’ll discuss it later. Well, I’m here to tell you that—”
Jacey butted herself between us. “Last I knew, we were here to get through this test. You two can finish this once we reach the Reformatory.”
Before I could say anything else, a series of musical notes rang through the room, each coinciding with one of the seven pillows lighting up.
I reeled around, unsure what to expect, but no one was walking through the bones, setting them off.
“They sounded the same as the bones, right?” Jacey said.
The melody played again, lighting up each post in the same exact pattern.
“And that was the same sequence,” Brodin said, studying the posts. “The bones… The posts…” His voice lifted an octave. “I’ve—”
The tune played a third time, then silence ruled the room.
“Yes! That’s it,” Jacey said, high-fiving Brodin and then Akimi. Her smile faded when she looked my way, and an ache blossomed in my chest.
“So, um,” I said. “What’s this all about? I don’t get it.”
“Well, the music—” Brodin began, but Akimi stepped between us.
“Don’t tell her,” she hissed.
His brows drew together.
“I believe she is compromised,” Akimi added.
“What are you talking about?” I shouted. So much for their talk about us being a team.
“We have to do it together, but,” Jacey glanced at me, “can we save the last for her?”
“Wise idea,” Akimi said.
“Please,” I said, the pain in my lungs growing stronger. “Tell me.”
“Something’s not right,” Brodin said, bracing my arms. “We’re gonna help straighten you out, though.”
Rage flared through me like a rocket and I pulled away. “What if I don’t need to be straightened out?”
Akimi scowled. “You do.”
“Maybe you’re the one we shouldn’t be trusting,” I shot out. “I’m part of the original team whereas you…you shoved your way into the group uninvited.”
She stumbled backward. “You do not mean that.”
“Right Brodin?” I said.
He blinked but didn’t deny my statement. He couldn’t.
“I see,” Akimi said stiffly. A few of the leaves she’d started to regrow on her branches shriveled and fell to the ground.
Jacey shot a look of pure dismay at me and put her arm around Akimi’s waist. She led the tree nymph to the top of the steps. “Remember,” she whispered. “It’s the game.”
“You’re right.” Akimi’s voice strengthened. “We must help our friend.”
“Way to go,” Brodin said to me. “If I didn’t already see that you…”
“What?”
He glared at the wall. “Nothing. Let’s do this and get out of here.” He joined Akimi and Jacey and they left the platform and walked partway through the room, avoiding the bones, then spoke quietly together.
I sat on the top step and sulked. Compromised, huh? What the hell did that mean? If they thought they could pull something on me, they’d soon learn otherwise.
I’d show them…
They walked among the bones, purposefully touching them. Each emitted a different note. The room was lit with a veritable cacophony, and it made my nerves tangle together to the point I fumed.
Slowly gathering various bones, they laid them on the platform. Then they climbed the stairs and moved around me to face the posts.
Jacey lifted what looked like an arm bone and walked over to stand in front of the first post. “Here, do you think?”
“The third,” Brodin said. “Right, Akimi?”
She nodded. “And mine, I believe, must go here.” She placed a skull of a creature with a long snout and bony ears in front of the fifth post.
With some discussion, they carefully laid the bones in front of each post. After, they stood back and studied their choices.
I got up and leaned against the wall. The jolt of electricity that traveled from the surface and into my body rejuvenated me and made it easier to tell myself I didn’t care that they were doing this without me.
“So, now what?” Jacey finally asked.
“Play the melody,” Brodin said. He lifted a length of spine overhead and brought the tip down onto one of the pillows. A note echoed through the room.
“Yes,” Jacey breathed. “Me next.” She did the same as Brodin, drumming two posts with the bones they’d selected.
Brodin hit a post with a complete set of bones making up a hand.
Akimi leveled a femur onto the fifth post and a hip bone on the sixth.
This left the seventh post untouched.
Akimi lifted a set of ribs and floated over to stand in front of me. “Take this, please. Help us finish it. Hit the seventh post and we are through. Do it for us.”
I took the ribs from her and strolled over to the seventh post, where I stared at it for so long, I swore dust collected on my shoulders.
“Tria,” Brodin said and I twisted my head, shaking off his urging.
“Please,” Jacey said.
Akimi remained silent but I felt the weight of her gaze on my spine.
I hefted the bones over my head and brought them down, hitting the sixth—not the seventh—post.
A blink and we stood outside, in front of the basilique.
The pall of a bespelling shed from my skin. Its dank essence floated around me before it drifted to the outer maze structure and sunk back inside.
One of the three golden rings dropped down onto the sword, creating a harsh bang when it hit the bottom.
The basilique slithered down to the ground and rose in front of us, wavering in the air and hissing. “Try twice, but thrice and you shall die,” it intoned.
While the basilique slid back up onto its pillar and solidified into stone, the entrance to the maze creaked open again.
With the horrible realization of what I’d done filling me like the thickest mud, I turned and ran toward the forest. Sobs wrenched through my body as I raced, and tears flew out behind me.
What had I done?
I hit the path and kept going, my feet creating heavy thuds on the stones. Ahead and in the woods, creatures stirred. Creaks rang out as if they unfurled their bones and, when the upper branches swayed and shuddered, I knew something hunted.
The gorelon.
I welcomed it. I deserved to let it find me.
Brodin caught up with me when I was halfway down the path. He grabbed my hand and pulled me to a stop. While I cried, he tugged me close, his arms wrapped around me.
“It’s okay,” he said, rubbing my back. “Really.”
“It’s not!” the words were wrenched out of me. “I ruined it. I made us lose. I…”
“I believe you were bespelled. We all do.”
I palmed my face and struggled to get control of myself. His words sunk through me, lightening my mood but only a little. Because, no matter what, I was in control of my actions.
“You weren’t,” he said softly.
“Stop guessing what I’m thinking.”
“It’s what I’d be thinking. I’d blame myself. But really, it had to have been a bespelling.”
“How?” I glanced up at him, expecting condemnation but only finding sympathy, understanding and, surprisingly, trust.
“We saw it at the start, though we weren’t sure. By the time we figured it out, it was too late. Whatever was happening had taken full effect.”
“But how?” Oh, wait. I held up a finger. “The wall. Whenever I touched it, electricity traveled through me.” I gulped back my rising tears. “I liked it.”
“Each time you touched it, your eyes flashed green. Until the last time, when they flared orange. I’ve heard of spells like that. They’re often permanent.”
“That’s the point of a bespelling, I guess. This whole thing is ironic.”
“Why?”
“Because my sister is an Unraveler.” The only wizard capable of breaking a bespelling.
“Truly? Interesting.”
“I’m sorry,” I sighed, inching closer to his warmth.
“It wasn’t you.”
“That’s not true.” Unfortunately. “Some of the things we said… The things we talked about as we crossed the plain to the forest, they sunk in and took hold. I spoke what I’ve thought.”
“It was natural for us to discuss our concerns, but we never would’ve acted on them. We knew, deep inside, that we can trust Akimi.”
I shook my head. “I wasn’t sure. And I’m still not sure.”
“Your thoughts—mine, too—have been twisted. It’s the effect of the catacombs. The entity plays with our minds.”
“Maybe. Regardless, I owe her an apology for what I did during this test. Jacey, too.”
He turned toward the maze and held tight to my hand. “Then let’s go tell them.”
The gorelon’s cry ticked out in the forest, and we ran.
Sixteen
Tria
We hit the end of the path at a dead run with the gorelon a rushing ooze on the trail behind us.
Brodin kept going, hurrying toward our friends. I lagged behind, my steps slowing until I’d stopped about ten feet away from them. The open door to the maze awaited with a second test, yet all I could focus on were my friends.
Did I read condemnation in their eyes? They should be angry with me. I’d touched the wall and essentially invited the spell into my mind. And then, at the end, when they’d figured out the bone puzzle with no help from me, I’d purposefully messed it up for all of us.
Jacey started toward me, her dragging footsteps telling me I was right in my assumption. The ache in my chest wouldn’t go away. It spread through me like a plague, chowing through my hope and leaving only fear behind.
She stopped in front of me and studied my face. What did she see?
&nb
sp; “I’m sorry,” I said. Leaning around her, I looked toward Akimi, but she stood with Brodin, talking, her branches spiking wildly in every direction. The basilique had solidified into stone, its duty finished until—if—we failed the second take of the test. A glance behind showed the gorelon had stopped and wasn’t oozing closer. Maybe Bixby’s only goal was to keep us going forward. If so, why? Our assumption could be right: she enjoyed watching, hoping we’d fail. There was no entertainment in watching us doing nothing.
Jacey cleared her throat, returning my attention to her. “I can’t say I wasn’t hurt because…”
“Because I was mean and said things I shouldn’t have.”
“You thought them.” Each of her words dripped pain. “And that’s the worst thing about all this. What happened inside,” her hand whipped toward the maze, “can be excused by the magic that sunk its claws deep inside you. But it’s what’s in here,” her finger touched my chest, so gentle I barely felt the gesture, “what’s in here I fear the most.”
“I understand. I’m sorry.”
“The catacombs took the thread of truth buried deep inside you and wove it into a thick strand of hate.”
“I shot it out when I should’ve done everything I could to bury it deeper.”
“Yes. But the thread was still there inside you. That’s what you need to deal with now.”
“As do you.”
Her head dipped, acknowledging that what I harbored inside me could rise up and strike her again.
Unless I cauterized it from my soul. “How do you do it?”
Her head tilted.
“How do you keep going without letting doubts cloud your mind? You know the odds of Rohnan being alive are slim.”
“I do it for myself, because I need to hold onto that scrap of hope. But even more, I do it for him.”
“Why?”
“Because he’d do the same for me.”
What would it be like to feel such complete trust in another person that you’d give your soul to be with them always? My gaze sought out Brodin’s, and he lifted an encouraging smile my way. He hadn’t trusted me the moment he met me, but he had since the triad test. Despite the bespelling, he’d hung onto the belief I’d find my way through. I’d let him down as well, because I hadn’t recognized the manipulation and fought it off.
Wicked Challenge (Darkwater Reformatory Book 2) Page 13
