A Race of Trials Page 9

  Over the other side I could see a clear, turquoise ocean that looked motionless from this distance, and I could make out the dark shapes of coral reefs within its depths. The sun was brighter here, and so I gauged that we had been heading east.

  How far away are we from other supernatural lands? Which race lives closest? I made a mental note to ask Ruby – no doubt Ash would have been more forthcoming about the exact location of Nevertide, if he even knew. The sentries seemed so closed off here – with or without the borders, and I wondered if this was a choice made by the kingdoms to cut themselves off from the dangers of the rest of the supernatural realm.

  Soon the bird dropped lower, and I could see the forests and rocky beaches that surrounded the water. We swooped down, the tips of the vulture’s wings almost brushing the leaves of the dense tree formations. Soon I saw a clearing in the forest, not far back from the water’s edge, and the vulture landed on its soft white sand.

  I slipped out of Tejus’s grip and hastily climbed down from the creature. I looked around me, stunned into silence by the large, looming shapes that emerged from the ground.

  It looked like a graveyard of ancient relics. I could see the top of what looked like a Viking longship. It was half submerged in the sand. Large, empty chests lay rotted and turned over, their contents long gone, but their Norse writing still clearly marked on the silver joints. Old and rusted weaponry lay wedged between driftwood, the round shields marked with Gaelic crosses and runes.

  “This is… incredible,” I managed to gasp out.

  “Relics left over from the first sentries,” Tejus commented.

  “You mean Vikings?” I replied, picking up what was left of a rusty blade.

  “Pardon?”

  “Vikings,” I repeated slowly, “all this is old Viking stuff.”

  Tejus looked at me as if I was speaking another language.

  “Longship.” I pointed at the boat. “Nordic chests, runes—all this is obviously from the Viking era—you know, the bloodthirsty invaders that ransacked all the villages?”

  “I don’t understand,” he replied slowly.

  “Don’t you learn history here?” I asked, exasperated.

  Tejus frowned at me. “This is from the first sentries,” he said. “They were seafaring people, and were the first to discover Nevertide. They came from an ancient land now claimed by ocean, and settled here thousands of years ago.”

  I frowned in confusion. “But… this looks like one hundred percent Viking stuff. Vikings are from Earth. I studied them in depth, at school.” I felt I was right, but it was confounding. If these were from Vikings, then had those Vikings come here and then… become sentries?

  “Are you certain?” Tejus questioned me, not bothering to mask his deep curiosity.

  “I’m quite sure,” I replied, gazing around. “Is there a particular reason you brought me here, Tejus?”

  He shrugged. “You showed me the place where you go to think… I just thought I would show you mine. Though I’m not sure if it will have quite the same effect in the future,” he muttered, looking over at the longship.

  I recalled our mind meld where I’d shown him the beach near The Shade’s Port. I couldn’t help but feel a bit touched that he’d remembered and sought to do the same.

  “Thanks. I, uh, appreciate it.”

  Suddenly feeling strangely self-conscious, I walked over to another relic lying in the sand that looked like some sort of bronze figurine.

  The next moment, I was falling through the ground with my limbs flailing in all directions and landing with a very painful thump on a hard surface. I lay there for a moment or two in shock, and then groaned when my back jerked in agony.

  “Hazel!” Tejus peered down at me from above.

  “Yeah,” I muttered, trying to sit up slowly.

  “Don’t move,” he called. “I’m coming down.”

  “Don’t do that—we might never get out,” I replied, short-tempered due to the pain in my back.

  Where am I?

  The hole that I’d fallen through gave me just enough light to see through the gloom. At first I thought it was a sort of cave, hollowed out over time by the sea. But as I looked more closely at my surroundings, I could see inscriptions on the walls, which were definitely man-made. Standing up slowly, and walking to the nearest wall, I thought they were Viking symbols, but these looked different to what I’d seen on the chests and weaponry.

  Then I realized the surface I’d landed on was a large stone monolith that stood in the center of the space. All around the block were the same carved inscriptions, their lines harsh and jagged as if they’d been created using very rudimentary tools.

  Beyond the stone block, I could see a narrow passageway.

  “Wait, I think there’s another entrance,” I called to Tejus. “I’m going to see if it will lead me out… It’s so strange down here.”

  I ducked my head and began to creep silently along. The air felt stagnant, and had Tejus not been waiting above, I didn’t know if I’d have had the courage to walk along the darkened passage. As it was, I felt an uneasy sense of dread as I stumbled along in the blackness.

  After a few yards, the air smelt fresher and I could faintly hear the sound of waves in the distance. I quickened my pace, and eventually emerged into the forest.

  “Tejus?” I called, looking around.

  I heard the thrashing of bushes, and he appeared before me.

  “Are you hurt?” he asked, looking me up and down.

  “My back doesn’t feel great, but it’s okay. Let’s go back this way,” I urged him, “I don’t know what this place is, but it almost looks like some kind of weird temple.”

  Tejus practically had to crawl down the passageway, the ceiling was so low. When we entered the room, he straightened up again and stared around him in surprise.

  “Do you recognize any of it?” I asked in a hushed whisper. There was something about the place, like a museum or gallery, that made me want to lower my voice so as not to disturb anything.

  Tejus didn’t answer me, but made his way over to one of the walls and ran his fingers down the engravings. He then turned back to the stone structure in the middle of the room and crouched down to get a better look.

  For the first time, I noticed that the top of the block had a deep groove running around its surface, and then an opening at one end, like a basic drainage system. I took a step back.

  “This looks like a sacrificial table,” I murmured, kind of freaked out.

  “I think you’re right. I recognize some of these symbols…” He hesitated.

  “What?”

  “Well—it’s just strange. The markings belong to an old cult, formed after the first dwellers arrived here. But I didn’t think any of it remained, not in such pristine form. We have some old stone disks back at the castle, but they are far more worn and aged than what’s here.” He looked up to the hole I’d fallen though. “Perhaps the sand preserved it?” he mused to himself.

  “What was the cult for?” I asked, looking everywhere but the sacrificial table.

  “They worshiped an old entity—not a god as such, but a mystical being that they believed was a source of extreme power. There is one manuscript on the subject and it’s not very illuminating. But the cult is long forgotten. This place wouldn’t have been used in many lifetimes.”

  I looked around at the floor and the passageway.

  “Are you sure about that?” I asked quietly.

  “Of course. Why?”

  “Tejus, there isn’t a speck of dust other than from when I fell, and as you say, the place doesn’t look aged at all. In fact it looks well kept.”

  Tejus looked around.

  I’m right. Someone’s been here recently. I know it.

  It wasn’t just the lack of dust. I could sense that it had been used—that people had been here only recently.

  “You might be right,” he replied eventually. He looked disturbed by the fact, the frown lines on his forehe
ad deepening.

  I felt the sudden urge to leave, and put as much distance between us and this strange cave as possible.

  Julian

  “What exactly are we looking for?” Yelena called out from the back of the line.

  “I don’t know exactly,” I called back, “but we just need to keep going until we can feel the barrier, we’ll know when we get there.”

  My plan was to find the barrier first, and then try to walk at least part of its circumference, looking for a potential break in the force field. We had exited through the front gates of the castle through the portcullis, and Jenney had bad-temperedly drawn a line on an old map as to where she thought the barrier lines might begin. It would take us most of the day to reach them, and we might be following the line around well into the night. We’d packed provisions, subtly, so the guards wouldn’t realize we were out for the long haul, and each carried them in makeshift packs on our back.

  “I still think this is a bit of a fool’s errand,” Benedict grumbled.

  “If we find what we’re looking for you’ll be thanking me,” was all I could think to say.

  The line was making slow progress. I kept having to pause and wait for them to catch up to us. I’d only taken half of the kids with me, the more energetic of the bunch, but even then most of them seemed half asleep, dragging their feet along with their shoulders hunched.

  “What is it with this lot anyway?” I asked Benedict. “Why aren’t they getting any better? They all look half dead. They’ve had days to recover.”

  He shrugged noncommittally and I noticed that he didn’t look much better. In the direct light, I could clearly make out the heavy bags under his eyes and the pallor of his skin.

  Up ahead was a large forest, marked on the map as Devel Wood. It went on for miles, but after that there was just an open expanse of meadow which would lead us to where Jenney estimated the closest barrier line lay.

  “Okay,” I announced to the group. “In the forest, stick together. If you lose sight of Benedict or me, call out and we’ll come and find you. Whatever you do, don’t go wandering about on your own, okay?”

  “What if we get lost?” one of the kids called out.

  “You’re not going to get lost,” I explained patiently. “Just keep calling and we’ll find you—hold hands if you want, but in pairs only.”

  The path started off easy, with the trees sparsely placed so that sunlight dappled down onto the forest floor and fallen leaves crunched underfoot. Up ahead was nothing but gloom—the trees were more densely populated and their huge boughs and branches blocked the sky. Unless we crossed it by sundown, we’d get completely lost in the dark.

  I didn’t want to share my concerns with Benedict—he was already being negative enough—but I felt a slight pang of regret that I’d insisted on taking the kids along with us. I didn’t know what animals or creatures lay in the dark recesses of a Nevertide forest and Jenney had never ventured into them, so her knowledge was limited, but I dreaded coming across any of them. When a group of people kept vultures and bull-horses as transportation methods and pets, you could bet that whatever animals hid in the dark would be ten times worse.

  But it was too late to turn back.

  “I don’t like this,” Benedict whispered as we crossed over into the gloom of the thick trees. “There’s something not right.”

  “Don’t be silly,” I replied a little hastily, “it’s fine.”

  “No, it’s not… Can’t you hear that?”

  I stopped still and listened for the slightest of sounds, but couldn’t hear a thing.

  “No.”

  “Exactly. How many times have you been in a forest when you couldn’t hear the sound of a bird or something making a racket in the undergrowth?” he whispered.

  Oh.

  He was right. There was no sound coming from the forest—nothing. The silence suddenly felt oppressive, a thick blanket that suffocated us as we stood still, the blood rushing in my ears the only thing I could hear…

  Then the howls began.

  Hazel

  The next morning, I was woken abruptly by a loud banging coming from the door to Tejus’s living quarters. I’d had a dreamless sleep, which was a relief, but it had taken me a long time to halt the flashing memories of the eerie cult temple and its sacrificial table before I was able to drop off.

  I opened the door to my cubby hole as the banging continued, and crawled out to see Tejus striding across the room wearing nothing but a towel and still dripping wet from his bath.

  My mouth went a tad dry.

  I had seen Tejus bare before, during the nymph incident in his father’s labyrinth, and it wasn’t an image I was likely to forget—but I wasn’t going to lie, this morning’s refresher was a welcome sight. I couldn’t help but stare at the defined muscles of his back and shoulders as he pulled open the door with impatient force.

  Distracted, I didn’t pay much attention to our visitors until I could hear voices being raised. I hung back, uncertain about the nature of the argument, but soon I could hear my own name being mentioned and I approached the doorway—keeping a good distance between me and Tejus’s bare torso.

  “It is the rules,” a guard replied heatedly. “Necessary for the trial. You have no jurisdiction over this, Prince.”

  There were three of them standing at the door, all dressed in their palace livery.

  “On whose authority?” Tejus questioned.

  “The ministers. Failure to comply will result in disqualification from the rest of the trials.”

  “What’s going on?” I interrupted.

  The guards turned to me as Tejus shot me a silencing glare, which I ignored.

  “We need to escort you to the location of the next trial,” replied one of the guards, “without your champion,” he emphasized for Tejus’s benefit.

  “I won’t allow it,” Tejus bit out.

  “One moment, please.” I smiled at the guards and pushed the door partway shut.

  “What are you doing?” I asked, turning on Tejus. “Do you want us to get disqualified from the trials? Jenus is banished from the kingdom, so it’s not like he’s a threat anymore… and I’m sure my kidnapper won’t be bothering us again,” I added sarcastically.

  He gave me a quizzical look, but remained silent and stony-faced.

  “I don’t trust them,” he muttered eventually.

  “It doesn’t look like we have a choice. Do I need to remind you that I have as much invested as you in the outcome of the trials? We can’t say no, Tejus.”

  I crossed my arms, until he sighed. Before moving to reopen the door, he hesitated and turned toward me, taking my hands gently in his.

  “Hazel, please stay safe. Be cautious…don’t do anything reckless.”

  Where did that come from?

  It almost sounded like Tejus had come to care for me – more than just as a prized possession to help him get through the trials. His touch was warm, and the expression on his face showed genuine concern and…tenderness? I couldn’t be sure – but I felt a warm glow suffuse my body.

  “Okay,” I murmured. “I’ll be careful. I promise.”

  He nodded, the corners of his mouth turning up ever so slightly into an almost smile. He removed his hands slowly, reluctantly.

  Then the smile dropped from his face completely as he turned back toward the door, and the cold, indifferent mask returned.

  “Fine.” He called to the waiting guards. “Take her.”

  I dashed off to find robes and hastily dressed in the bathroom. I emerged a short while later and allowed the guards to escort me down to the castle courtyard. They were silent, and I didn’t bother asking any questions—it seemed pointless when I knew they’d inevitably go unanswered.

  Once we arrived at the courtyard, I was relieved to see other humans milling about—and Ruby’s distinctive blonde hair.

  “Hey,” I said, walking over to her.

  She smiled faintly as I approached, “Do you know what
’s going on here?” she asked.

  “Not a clue. As per usual.”

  “I’m glad you’re here,” she replied. “I thought Tejus might not allow it... I noticed he didn’t like you dancing with that other champion—what’s his name?”

  “Nikolay,” I answered. “Yeah. I don’t think Tejus is a fan…”

  Before I could make a quip about her and Ash, our conversation was cut short as another one of the guards approached us—a different one to the men who had brought me down here.

  “Hazel?” he queried. “You must come with me.”

  I looked past him to see a small bull-horse-drawn carriage marked by the distinctive livery of the Hellswan household—an image of a gold vulture’s head marking the side of the door.

  “We’re not going together?” I asked, taking a step back.

  “Each human has their own carriage,” he replied.

  Ruby and I had no choice but to part ways. I followed the guard back to the waiting carriage, waving goodbye to Ruby as I did so.

  “Where are we going?” I asked as we reached the door.

  “Well now, I can’t tell you that,” he replied, unexpectedly jovial, “but I can tell you that there’s nothing to be afraid of—as far as you humans are concerned, this is the gentlest trial of the lot.”

  I nodded my thanks as he opened the door. I stepped into the carriage, admiring the plush velvet seats and the satin padding on the ceiling. The guard shut the door behind me, and I instantly peered out of the window to look for Ruby. I could see her, not far off, stepping into another carriage alone.

  The bull-horse started to clop its hooves on the ground, and soon we were riding over the moat and along the main passageway that led past the forest and down to the villages. I soon realized why the ceiling was coated in fabric—the ride was a bumpy one, and I had to clutch onto the seat with both hands to avoid hitting my head as the wheels bounced over the cobblestones.

  The villagers had come out to see what the procession was about—I guessed a formation of six carriages through the sleepy hamlet wasn’t something they were necessarily used to. I waved at them as we went past, and they waved back, kids being placed on their parents’ shoulders to get a better look at the humans, and staring as we drove by.