Page 103 of Trial of Bronze and Blood
Sighing, she offers, “Fire.”
A low, hissing sound emanates from the ground. She blinks, and a section of the floor spanning the width of the path cranks open, shooting up a wall of fire from within. Warmth blasts her face, drenching her in sweat. Not one bit of space has been left for her toskirt around it, and she has no idea how far down the path the flames go.
She steels herself. There’s no going back now, and the only way forward is through it.
You survived molten dragon’s fire—you can survive this.
Launching off the balls of her feet, she sprints through the flames. They lick up her arms and legs, the heat not as uncomfortable on her skin as she expects.
Luckily, the fiery wall barely stretches an arm’s length, and the small holes in the floor close up again once she’s on the other side.
Leaning against the wall, she gulps in air, her blood racing through her veins. The ghosts of the scars left behind on her hands and arms by the Viverna ache with the memory.
She breathes deep, focusing on the movement of her chest to calm herself as best she can.
Settled once more, she moves on, hoping she’s close to the end but knowing she’d be a fool to get her hopes up.
The longer she walks without a new challenge to face, the warier she becomes, and she opens her senses up to the arena. The sounds of metal clashing sound nearby, while screams of agony travel clear across the maze. The crowd still roars through the stadium, cheering at times and booing at others. She can’t mark whether the cheers are allied with triumph or defeat.
Finally, she turns a corner and comes to stand before a man so tall he casts a shadow. A red mask covers his face to match his robes, and he appears to carry no weapon. He watches her from his position in front of a wall, with nowhere else for her to go.
This is the end.She approaches him until she’s barely out of his reach.
He shifts on his feet. “Everything that matters in this world ends with me. What am I?”
She tempers her reaction at that voice; she recognizes it from the other night, when he was leaving the brothel—Sacerdos Matteo, from the Imperium. Wariness sharpens her senses as shetries to figure how many different ways this could be a trap.Too many.
“G,” she answers, confident.
He shakes his head. Cold dread trickles down the back of her neck.
“That is incorrect. The answer isA, for omnia.”
Fuck.The Phaedran word for “everything” is omnia. She should’ve known when he said “everything that matters in this world”; coming from a Phaedran, the Imperiumisall that matters.
She swallows, her breaths coming out short. “What happens now?”
He chooses not to answer her; instead, he reaches behind him and lowers his arm. The sounds of mechanics moving beneath her rattle the ground.
Before she can think to move, the floor beneath her gives way, taking her feet out from under her.
Swallowing the scream clawing out of her throat as she falls, she reaches out for the edge—she barely catches it, her fingers scrambling to find purchase on the loose dirt. Glancing beneath her, only darkness pervades. Panic sits heavy inside her chest, making it difficult to breathe. She puts all her effort into staying out of the pit below her and glances up.
The sacerdos stares down at her, his mask discarded. Remorselessness deadens his gray eyes, his thin lips a single line beneath his hooked nose.
“The gods forgive you, my child, for all that you’ve done.”
Dru bares her teeth and growls in frustration, unable to think of something to say in return. He leaves her to her fate, his robes trailing behind him while she struggles to stay up. She hisses at the pain of her short nails breaking on the hard ground until she can no longer hold on.
She drops down into the near-darkness.
But she doesn’t fall for long. Her feet land on the hard ground, the impact forcing her to her hands and knees.
The distinct odor of cold, wet stone and blood surrounds her. She breathes in shakily, blood running down her shins from her skinned knees. Once her eyes grow used to the soft torchlight, she raises her head to take in her surroundings?—
—and finds herself less than an arm’s length away from a lion.
Heart galloping inside her chest, she scrambles away, her back swiftly hitting the wall behind her. The lion lunges, snarling, but the thick chain around his neck prevents him from getting close enough to strike at her.
