“Isn’t being annoying a part of being evil?” I say, my voice cracking even though I’m trying to be jovial.
“No, because you’d just end up getting killed by another annoying villain way before you got a chance to be evil,” he tells me, which is some crazy logic… but it also makes me feel a little better. Seth is right, I’m not them. I never have been.
“Thank you, Seth,” I say. “I’m serious. I was freaking out, and I really needed to hear that,” I admit. “Or…” I pause and take a breath. “Or maybe I just really needed you to be here. Either way, thank you.” I wipe my eyes, which I realise have been streaming with tears. “Gosh, I’m a feckin’ mess,” I mutter, chuckling at how ridiculous I must look. “You must hate me.”
“I don’t hate you, Karma. Far from it actually,” he says, and I freeze, meeting his gaze. There is a moment between us that I can’t describe,and for a moment I wonder if he’s going to lean in... but he soon breaks the silence and clears his throat. “Maybe you can stop calling me goldipops as payment.”
“Yeah...that isn’t going to happen,” I say, my usual sass returning to my voice. “Sorry, goldipops. The nickname is here to stay.”
Seth rolls his eyes, getting to his feet and holding out a hand to me before helping me stand up. “Come on, smartass,” he says. “You need to stand tall and—” We both pause when we hear something scrape against the door. I stand up as Seth does, my guard going up, and watch as he pulls the door open.
Killian and Storm are looking sheepish as Mads lowers the glass in her hand with a similar guilty look.
“Were you guys spying on us?” I demand, crossing my arms.
“Er… define spying,” Mads says, standing up and putting the glass behind her back.
I shake my head in disbelief. “I’d expect this from you, Mads, but Storm? Killian?” As pissed off as I am, though, I can’t help the smile that’s trying to break free. “I didn’t know you lot were nosy feckers.”
“We were just worried about you,” Mads interjects, while the big, allegedly scary gods behind her don’t say a single word. I just raise one eyebrow at them. I’m pretty sure men never stop being kids, they just become giant kids.
“I’m okay. We should get going. I want to get there early so maybe we could find out what the game actually is,” I say, pulling the belt around my waist, and Seth comes closer. He shows me how to clip it on so it stays on my hips, with both the daggers at either side. I have to win this game, or I’m never going to escape this place with the gods, friends and family I love the most.
Chapter 41
My feet crunch against the flagstones that wind away into the distance as we head along the long pathway. Faintly, beyond the castle walls, I can hear noise in the distance that floods me with fear. It’s the sound of a large group of people, all talking, cheering, and shouting. It reminds me a little of the time I went to a soccer match with Mum and Dad when I was in primary school - I had never seen so many people in one place before, or heard anything quite so rabid.
The noise I’m hearing now is enough to drown that all out.
I think, after so long being isolated, I had never even considered the prospect of there being other people living on this island. There were the castle guards, to be sure, but part of me had been convinced that the higher gods were the only inhabitants - a group of egomaniacs who surrounded themselves only with their lackeys and advisors. As it turns out, this island is bigger than it appeared when I first arrived in the ruins, and seems to be populated with its own community of supernaturals. Most of them aren’t higher gods - in fact, many of them aren’t gods at all - but they all have one thing in common: they’re here because of their loyalty to Xur and his family. I’m not even sure what would happen to a resident here if they spoke out against the higher gods, but I’m certain it wouldn’t be anything good.
My sympathy for them ends there, however. It takes a certain kind of sadism to gather in a crowd all for the sake of watching people get hurt, especially when those people don’t want to be here in the first place. One thing is clear: they want to see me lose, whatever this game is. The higher gods are out for blood, and I don’t doubt that the rest of the island is, too. But I’m not going to lose. Something in me seems to have woken up in the aftermath of Seth’s pep talk, and all that matters to me now is making sure that the higher gods are stopped, no matter the cost. I’m still terrified, but the determination to protect the people I love overpowers the fear.
I want a world of peace, one where I don’t have to worry about any future child of mine being taken from me, or being killed as part of some centuries-long chess game between the higher gods. That has happened once, and there is only one sure way to make sure it doesn’t happen again.
The higher gods need to feckin’ die.
And not take me down with them. At least, not if I have anything to say about it.
“Where is the rest of my family?” I ask Storm, although I don’t expect him to have an answer. He’s walking alongside me to my right, his head down and his shoulders hunched with tension. I know he’s not the kind of guy who usually wears his heart on his sleeve, but there’s concern written all over his face. I can tell that he’s worried about me, and I wish I could wrap my arms around him and murmur that it’s going to be okay. But I can’t, and he knows it as well as I do. Mads is at my other side, her hands stuffed in her pockets and a pensive expression on her face. The justice twins are walking a little ways in front of us, their gazes fixed straight ahead. I can hear them talking to one another in low voices, although they’re far enough away that I can’t make out the words they’re saying. Part of me is glad; I have enough people worrying about me right now.
“Pey sent me a text,” Mads answers. “He is already there with the rest of your family. They’re waiting for us to arrive, but he didn’t say where they were.” She opens her mouth as if to say something else, but then closes it, shaking her head.
I steal another glance at Storm, who meets my eyes with his own. He doesn’t say anything, instead reaching out and sliding his hand into mine. We slow for a moment as I link my fingers with his, and for a brief second, I rest my head on his arm, letting my eyes slowly close. The simple contact gives me more strength than I can express, and his presence is enough to recharge me.
I know I need to talk to Storm about what Killian said, about our future together. Maybe even more so, after what happened - or what almost happened - between Seth and me in the bathroom. But there’s no knowing what he would even say, and besides, it seems almost fruitless to do that when I’m not sure if I’m going to live or die. I need to focus on staying alive, and let the rest come after; one day at a time is the only way I’m going to survive this.
We continue to walk between the trees, like prisoners on their way to the gallows, and soon enough the arena soon comes into view. The sunny skies we had yesterday are long gone, and now dark clouds hang in the sky, looming on the horizon and threatening to bring a vicious bout of bad weather. It’s oddly appropriate, considering the circumstances, and I would be willing to bet that Storm is the one causing them. He did say higher gods’ powers were linked to emotions.
At the very least, though, it’s not raining, so thank the gods for small favours, I guess. Still, there’s a strong wind whipping through the branches of the trees and nearly drowning out the sounds of the crowd in the stadium, and a chill runs up my spine - although whether it’s due to the weather or the anticipation, I have no clue.
I tug my old brown leather jacket closer around me with my one hand, the wind whipping my hair as we make our slow way into the arena. It feels like it gets colder with every step we take, as if the very air in the place is tainted with some dark and horrible magic.
The arena itself reminds me of something from the ancient Greek times, similar to the Roman colosseum but on a smaller scale. The raised seats tower above us on all sides, made of intricately carved stone and looking down accusingly on the middle of the arena. Every seat seems to be filled, and a glance around the place confirms that many of the people on this island aren’t gods at all, but other supernaturals; I can make out the forms of fairies, leprechauns, changelings. There are even what look like a few vampires in the stands, although I can’t be sure since I’ve never seen one up close before. I can feel my heart hammering harder in my chest as we stop just inside the arena; their eyes are all on me and Storm, and I give his hand an involuntary squeeze as I take in the sight before us.
In the middle of the arena looms a giant maze. It’s one of those old-fashioned hedge mazes, like you might see on a regency estate, except the walls tower higher than I would have ever thought possible, making it impossible to see past the entrance. There’s no doubt in my mind that it was created just for this trial, with the intention of looking as imposing as possible (and I’ll be damned if it’s not working). Thorny branches wind their way along the outer walls, and the dense foliage obscures my view inside, although the spectators in the stands can no doubt see everything that awaits me in there.
I realise I’m frozen in place, and it’s not until Storm gives my hand a gentle tug that I’m able to force myself to move once again. We begin to walk to the right, skirting around the outside of the maze, and I can make out an area in the middle with a raised platform that towers over the other seats in the arena. My family members are all standing in front of the entrance to the maze, looking hesitantly up at the platform where the higher gods will no doubt sit down to watch.
I fight off the urge to run to my family, trying to give off an air of unbothered calm as I move, in spite of the fact that I’m reeling inside. The thousands of eyes on me from all around the stadium feel like they’re burning a hole in the back of my neck, and I steal another glance up at the spectators as I walk to meet my family. Now that I’m closer, I can see that many of those in the audience are gods, if lesser ones, and it seems that the rank of the being determines where they sit. Closest to the action are the more powerful gods, while the plebians and other supernatural races are relegated to the outer seats. Each god is distinct from the rest; some have hair in bright colours and strange styles, some have large horns, cat ears, or tails. There is even one goddess who is literally covered in sparkly silver dust - a celestial deity of some sort? I’ve heard that shite is hard to get rid of once it gets in your house. It doesn’t matter though; I can tell that they’re murmuring about me to one another. It must be news now that the child of a higher god has been found, and is now playing some sort of game with her family. There hasn’t been good gossip like this in years in the supernatural community - at least, none that I’ve heard, anyway.
I envy them their ability to watch in the background as I risk my life. It must be nice to be able to forget about all the evil the higher gods have done, in favour of an afternoon of fun and violence.
Mum hugs me tightly when I get close. “I love you, Karma,” she says, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.
“I love you too, Mum,” I reply, pulling back to look her in the eyes. “I’m going to get through this,” I tell her, even if I don’t entirely believe it. “I promise.”
Dad gives me a nod of gratitude before pulling Mum away from me. She puts her head to his chest and begins to cry. I want to go comfort her, but I need to stay strong, and right now she isn’t helping me do that. Seeing her weeping like I’m being sent to my death is only serving to make me more scared. Besides, this isn’t just a physical game - it’s a game of politics, a game of manipulation, and the higher gods are no doubt watching my every move, looking for any sign of weakness. I can’t let them know that I’m terrified.
Mads touches my shoulder for a moment before going to stand at Peyton’s side, and have to do a double take when I see that Michael the goat is standing beside him. Pey has his hand on the animal’s back, restraining him, and I can see the curiosity in Michael’s eyes as he stares up at the world around us.
I move to stand next to Peyton, eyes wide. He’s struggling to keep control of the goat, whose shiny blue collar - the one with little hearts on it - is jangling in his frantic attempts to get away and explore. Why on earth Mum picked that collar for him, I’ll never know - he’s not a dog, he’s a friggin’ goat, for fuck’s sake… but I digress. There are more important things to worry about right now.
“You brought Michael to see the higher gods?” I hiss, eyes flashing as I turn to my brother. “You do realise most of the gods here probably have no idea talking animals still exist anymore, right? He is meant to be a secret!” It’s true; enchanting an animal into sentience rarely ever works, and much of the magic that gives animals like Michael his abilities has been lost for years. I could easily see some greedy fecker in the stands deciding that they want a talking goat for their house… and I have no doubt that Xur would be all too happy to hand him over.
“It was mum’s idea,” Peyton whispers back. “She thought his abilities might come in handy. Or that we could use him as a bargaining chip, if worse came to worst…” Seeing my horrified expression, he holds up his other hand. “Look, I hated the idea too, but we were desperate. We had no idea if you were ever going to get out of that prison. We-” He starts to say something else, but at that moment Michael decides to make a break for it, bucking free of my brother’s grip and charging away off to the left. Peyton lunges for him and tries to grab him, but he loses his grip on the collar, and I’m left to watch in horror as Michael runs straight into the middle of the arena.
