“Rumpy, let’s not be grumpy.” She wags her long finger at him. “You can’t expect to win a plaything every year. Off with you now.”
The imp growls and scuttles away on all fours into the forest, with the wall of fog closing behind him. The priestess turns to us and claps her linen-wrapped hands in applause.
“Well, well, well. Gi-sel-a.” She draws out my name like Albert used to and glides around us in a circle. “You saved the day. For now. The crown you seek is, in fact, made of bones. Think of this as a gift for knowing the correct answer.” She leans and runs her fingers through my hair. A glowing light protrudes from her silk wrappings and twinkles down the length. “My sister once had pretty red hair like you.” She hums a high-pitched giggle under her breath. “You’re her little pet, are you not?”
I jerk my head away. Something’s not right. Her voice is higher, and her clothes and veil are different. This isn’t our priestess.
“Who are you?” I ask.
She rises into the air. “Look at you, all huddled together. I must say, your survival rate is unprecedented these thousand years. But you should know…only one may find the crown.”
She snaps her fingers, and everything goes black.
The Tower
A MEMORY OF THE CREEK FROM the day Wil died washes over me in the darkness.
After Brahm had asked me to dance, he touched my cheek. “Gisela, I need you to know something. I truly didn’t want to kiss Elana at the Hexennacht bonfires. I didn’t even find out the truth for a few weeks after, but Wil let it slip that…he had paid her to kiss me in front of you.”
My head grew hot, and a dull, foggy ache formed. “Why? What do you mean?”
“You know he never liked the idea of you and me together. He wanted to drive us apart. I never told you because I didn’t want to make things worse between you and Wil.”
The pain in my head grew into a completely agonizing fog. I held my forehead as my cheeks grew hot.
Brahm took my hands. “Hey. I know, believe me, I was angry when I found out, too. But he’s your brother. It’s alright.” He cleared his throat. “Will you dance with me, Freckles?”
We did. We danced, dipped, and swayed as we talked for what felt like hours. We were our old selves again: the teasing, bickering, and giggling. Brahm guided me backward with slow steps until I was leaning against the tree carved with our names. He stroked my face, and my heart raced just as it had before.
“Gi! Gi, where are you?” My Uncle Erik’s voice pierced my perfect moment and stopped whatever was about to happen. “Gi? There you are, girl. You have to go home. There’s been an accident at the mine. It’s Wilhelm.”
I roll over and look around. I’m lying on a smooth, stone floor in a dim room. Brahm lies on the other side of the empty, circular space. The other Offerings are sprawled out on the floor as well. Fighting against my weak, sleepy limbs, I crawl to Brahm and touch his cheek.
His long, twisted locks form a little pillow beneath his head. His handsome face is peaceful, with a slight smile upon his lips.
“Brahm,” I whisper and rub his shoulder.
He blinks open his eyes and sits up. I wrap my arms around him in a hug, and Brahm traces circles down my back.
Ferdinand stirs nearby and props himself on his elbows. “Where are we?”
His annoying voice wakes Willa and Gunther. They sit up, and everyone drinks from their canteens and lets their eyes adjust to the dark. Brahm gasps and points to the edges of the round room. We all squint our eyes in the dim light at the dozen skeletons lying in various positions on the floor. A ragged breath escapes my lungs as I shudder at the grim sight.
Brahm takes my hand as we inspect the room. The others follow suit. The structure is made of shiny gray and brown stones walled all the way up and spiraled around the floor. The skeletons are either clad in colorful dresses or blouses with pants.
“They were Offerings.” I squeeze Brahm’s hand. “All of them.”
“What do you think happened to them?” Willa asks.
“I don’t know,” Gunther says as we all walk toward the other side.
There’s one window where everyone congregates, but I can hardly see over Gunther’s broad shoulders.
“We’re over one hundred feet in the air,” he says and slides his arm down the side of the building. “The structure’s smooth and slick, no chance of climbing. Look.”
Everyone besides me is able to stick their head out the window. “What is it?” I ask.
“More dead Offerings at the bottom. Looks like they jumped,” Ferdinand says. “What in the fresh hell is this?”
I’m so sick of his voice. Between Brahm’s and my beatings, Ferdinand’s eye sockets and nose are bruised and swollen, and his lip is split. I will gladly break more than his nose if he pulls any more stunts.
“It’s some sort of tower,” Gunther says. “Let’s search for a trap door to the stairwell. There must be a way down.”
We first scan with our eyes but soon get on all fours to scour the stone floor for a handle, a seam, anything.
“There’s nothing,” Brahm says.
He and I return to the window, which is just an opening in the stones. There’s no sill or panes of glass. As I lean out to get a better look at the skeletons, my hair grows long to the ground like a red waterfall. Brahm’s jaw drops, and he pulls me back into the tower. My hair returns to its normal length. I run my fingers through it, shaking my head in disbelief.
“What was that?” Willa asks.
“Our way out is what it is!” Ferdinand says with a chuckle. “Her gift.”
My stomach sinks. Once they all climb down, how will I get out?
Brahm leans close, resting his forehead against mine. “I know what you’re thinking, Freckles. We’ll find something to tie it to.”
We search, but there’s nothing but the slick stones and human remains. Gunther shakes his head, and his dark eyebrows droop.
“Alright,” Brahm says and takes my hands. “I’ll lower you down. The rest of you can find something to help me down later. Lean out, and let’s test it.”
I do so and let my hair grow long. Brahm scoops it up with his hands, but it returns to its former length as he draws it into the tower. When he tosses it back out, it touches the ground. The realization takes hold and spreads in a painful tingle over my skin. I won nothing. The white priestess chose me to die. Everything is so painfully clear. I will never see Thora, my parents, or Brahm again.
“It’s only long when I lean out.” I turn to him with tears in my eyes. “Either these Offerings died of falling, starvation, or the fog. This is no gift; I’ll die all alone up here.”
“That won’t happen to you.” Brahm grabs my hands. “I’ll come back with something.”
It’s still dark, but a blue halo glows above the mountains. The sunrise will soon be here along with the fog. I’ll at least go out with dignity. I swallow the lump in my throat and suck in a deep breath.
“You should all get going,” I say. “There’s no need for us all to die.”
“That’s the spirit. I’ll sure miss you, Red. We’ll hold a little bonfire memorial for you, too.” Ferdinand smirks. “But can I have your dagger as a parting gift?”