Page 256 of The Wishing Game

My nerves are killing me as I wait for whatever assessment she has in store. The seconds trickle by as her heels dig into the ground, the sound echoing ominously in my ear.

I cannot see behind me. But I can hear the hushed voice of the high priestess as she tells more girls to move to the side and leave the line.

Eventually, though, it's my turn.

The shoes are the first that come into sight, red pumps with a block heel. The hem of the dress reaches her ankles, but compared to my outfit, hers leaves perfect visibility of her shoes.

"You," she whispers in a low, eerie voice.

Her finger makes contact with my jaw and she tips my head up to look at her.

Her eyes are an almost translucent gray, rimmed with red paint that spans from one temple to the other. Her cheeks are angular and hollow, her mouth thin and pursed as she regards me. I cannot make out the color of her hair due to her hood, but based on her coloring, I'd assume it would be blonde.

"I sense male energy on you," she murmurs, her eyes narrowing as they traverse my entire body before settling on my right hand. "Move to the side, please."

She doesn't wait for me to reply as she moves to the next woman. Meanwhile, her fellow priestesses come to escort me to the side where quite a few women have gathered up already.

A tremor goes down my spine, traveling down my legs until they become as soft as jelly. How I manage to put one foot in front of the other and continue moving, I do not know. There's only a foreboding sense of doom.

I got caught, didn't I?

FIFTY-THREE

The girls selected by the high priestess are led by the other priestesses toward the pavilion on the left, traversing one of the gazebos and heading into a small room at the end of the corridor. White, bare walls surround us, caging us in.

"The high priestess will be with you shortly for an in-depth assessment. Until then, please remove your clothes."

I blink at the pronouncement.

"What?" I blurt out.

The sharp gaze of the priestess pierces through me, making me freeze.

"The high priestess detected an unusual energy around you. To continue in the selection, we must ensure there's no foul play involved," she explains in a chilling tone.

The other girls all nod, already fumbling with the fastenings of their garments, and I'm forced to go with the flow.

"Ze,what am I going to do?"I reach out to him, my hands trembling as I pull the dress over my head and lay it on the floor next to me. We're all left in our undergarments, waiting in a line.

The priestess doesn't look over our naked forms, but that doesn't make it any less uncomfortable—not that I've ever been comfortable without my clothes on.

"Ze?"I keep calling his name, yet as seconds go by and he doesn't answer, it strikes me that something might be wrong.

My eyes take in the room, and I look around wildly for any clues. I almost miss it at first. But as I glance at the ceiling, the light from one of the windows reflects against a yellowish, almost transparent symbol, highlighting it. The symbol is only visible when directly hit by light. Otherwise, it blends into the white of the ceiling, remaining undetectable.

My breath catches in my throat.

If the temple has runes that prohibit males from entering, could they also have some to preventanymales from communicating with the priestesses? Going by those odd symbols and the way my brain is too quiet, that might be a possibility. This world does not have the advanced technology that Earth does simply because it relies on magic to get everything done. Those symbols could very well act like a Faraday cage to stopalltypes of communications—we were singled out as suspicious, after all.

But what does that mean for me?

My thoughts are interrupted as the door opens and closes with a whoosh, the high priestess suddenly appearing before us.

The red painted around her eyes makes her irises appear otherworldly. She lowers her hood, her hair a white blond pulled back in a bun at her nape.

She walks slowly, gracefully, her gaze swallowing the entire room in the span of a second.

One by one, she stops in front of each of the girls, staring intently for minutes on end before she gives a nod of assent—her way of deeming someone fit to continue in the recruitment process. Some girls pass, others fail. I don't know what her criteria are—not when all she does is stare blankly at us before the verdict is announced. The girls who don't pass are taken away by the other priestess and thrown out of the room.

---