Page 87 of The Song of Sunrise
In these bottles, the poison is true,
But one, save the last, will turn your face blue,
The one you lust will turn you to dust,
But that does not count the one that’s see-through.
One is deadly, three will sting,
Only one will make your victory sing,
Your choice is this, for only one you must drink,
Select carefully and rise, or poorly and sink.
I read the words over and over, thankful for my years practicing discerning the meaning behind each stanza in a Telling. The first bottle is filled with a clear liquid that smells like wet socks. I crinkle my nose in disgust and lift the second blue liquid to my nose, careful not to spill. No scent. I put that one down. The third bottle is yellow and smells as harmless as a glass of lemon citrus water.
I continue to assess the bottles. I remove the stopper to the fourth vial of black liquid and I’m hit instantly with a comforting smell of something sweet, like summer flowers and the salty mist of the Jaragon Sea and… smoke? I set that one down and look at the fifth and final bottle. It’s light green and smells like Rosie’s cucumber salad she used to always make on the hot summer days. I set the vial back down, ignoring the pang of guilt for leaving her behind, and am renewed with a sense of urgency to win this damn trial.
“Will turn your face blue…” I mutter to myself and squint at the second vial of blue liquid that didn’t have a scent. It would be a literal take on the riddle, but I cancel that one out nonetheless.
“The one you lust will turn you to dust… that doesn’t sound very nice now does it.” I trail my fingers along the top of the bottles and pause once I get the fourth one, the black liquid that smells divine. As much as I hate it, that scent cannot be mistaken for anyone else. Atlys. “Damn you and your delicious scent,” I mutter and set the fourth vial back down.
A feeling of animalistic desire pulses through my body. It takes me only a moment to realize that the emotion is coming from the Underworld Lord who is no doubt basking in his glory that the “one I lust” smells exactly like him.
Pervert. I think toward his general direction. Not knowing if he can hear my thoughts back.
I look at the first bottle again and back to the scroll, confirming my suspicions that see-through liquid is probably one I should avoid. I put that bottle down. That leaves the third bottle, which is yellow and smells like citrus, and the last cucumber-smelling bottle.
I reread the riddle.
“In these bottles, the poison is true, but one, save the last, will turn your face blue.” I laugh at the realization. But one “save the last” will turn your face blue.
Save the last. I pick up the light green vial.
“Semantics matter, Akemi,”Marrow would always say in our lessons.
“Here’s to you, Marrow, for your lessons that have saved my life more times than I can count.” I pour the liquid into my mouth in one large gulp and I wait, anticipating pain, but nothing comes.
The crowd erupts with cheers as Gryphon and Selene surround me in a rib-crushing hug.
“We won!” Selene cheers as Gryphon picks us both up and spins.
Vega, being the closest champion to us, sees the vial in my hand and reaches for her own green vial. Cheater!
Cassiopeia from the Jord team is third to complete the riddle but buckles over in pain, clutching her stomach. A nearby Moon’cher medical team rushes in while Sabra and Ragnar stand by, looking bored and emotionless, not caring that their teammate may or may not die. They are both soaking wet from Ragnar diving in after Sabra’s failed attempt to get the key. Their fury apparently overcomes their capacity to empathize.
Leaf and Kauri yell for help as they rush over to Artemis, who is also laying on the ground, heaving up the contents of his stomach. Leo is still trying to solve the riddle when an alarm wails in a formidable open fifth.
“What is that alarm for?” I ask Gryphon. As a second-stone, he may have experienced this before. But he only shrugs in return, looking as alarmed as I feel.
“GEAR UP. NEARBY ATTACK. ROGUE UNDERLINGS. REINFORCEMENTS NEEDED.” Commander Hogsmith jumps into action. “ALL SECOND AND THIRD-STONE CADETS RIDE TO THE CALL.” The Commander then turns to the leaders. “ROYAL DELEGATES, WILL YOU CHOOSE TO JOIN US?"
Lady Neda stands and rolls her shoulders back. “We will take the rivers.”
“And us the sky,” Lord Clayoq adds, standing alongside the rest of the Elven brethren.
I look at Atlys, waiting for him to stand, but he stays seated next to the Jord Lord.
