'Who are you?' I yelled. I had no way of answering him in my head, as I couldn't project my thoughts at someone totally unknown.
'Reach forward, and feel for the bridge.'
'No! Did you tell them I was scared of heights?' My voice trembled.
'It's a foot to your left,' the voice continued, ignoring me.
My whole body was covered in sweat now, my back slick under the leather corset. I shuffled a foot to my left, my damp hands shaking as I put them flat on the ground and lifted myself sideways. Dust stuck to them as I drew them back around my knees.
'Good. Now, reach forward.'
I closed my eyes, but it did nothing to lessen the rising panic. Come on, come on, come on. They're not going to let you die this early in the competition. Get a grip. I shuffled backwards a little, then swiveled onto my belly, wishing I could hear anything other than my heart hammering against my ribs to distract me.
'This place sucks,' I hissed aloud, as I gripped the edge of the cliff with my sweaty hands. My head was too far back to see over the edge, which was exactly how I needed it to be. 'And I bet I look like a fucking idiot.' Memories flashed into my mind of me being sprawled on my front on the ground before, each time because some jerk had tripped me or pushed me, to make everyone else laugh. The thought sent a spurt of determination through me, and I moved my fingertips along the edge carefully. Then my right hand hit something hard. Slowly, I began to feel around, wriggling my way closer, but keeping an arm's length from the precipice. Skop had been right. There was a bridge. It was cool and smooth to touch, like plastic or metal and I could grip each edge with my hands. It couldn't be more than two feet wide. Very, very slowly, I drew myself up onto my elbows and knees, still gripping the edges of the bridge so I didn't lose it, and keeping my eyes squeezed shut. The muscles in my thighs were vibrating, and another wave of dizziness crashed over me as I inhaled deeply. You've worked yourself up into this mess of nerves, I scolded myself. Just get on with it. You're holding the edges of the bridge, you won't fall off. Just crawl across. Olympus is watching.
I moved one knee forward, my stomach lurching as I did so. My survival instincts were begging me to open my eyes, but common sense and fear kept them closed. It was an invisible bridge. There was no way I wanted to look down as I did this. I slid one shaking hand along the edge of the bridge, my skin slick against the material. I pushed gently, testing my weight. It felt solid. I let out a long breath, then repeated the movement on my other side. Knee forward, hand forward. Again. And again. I could do this.
And I probably could have, if my traitorous eyes hadn't flickered open.
Black dots instantly invaded my vision as the image before me swam and warped. Icy cold fear clamped onto my muscles as I stared down into black nothingness, the sides of the rocky chasm stretching on endlessly beneath me. Fresh nausea swamped my insides and I couldn't think straight. Get off the bridge, get of the bridge, get off the bridge. Over and over the words sang through my head, drowning out anything else. I felt my right leg spasm and jerk, and pure terror bit into me as my right hip collapsed. I had no idea how far across the bridge I'd got, blind panic obliterating facts as my body began to shut down. Pain lanced through my head as I crumpled onto the bridge and my chin banged into the hard material. I barely registered the taste of blood as I flung my arms around the bridge, squeezing my eyes closed again as they filled with tears of fright.
'Persephone! Go back the way you came, you're not far!' Skop's alarmed voice rang in my mind and I focused on his words. You're not far. I forced my shaking, numb legs back up, not caring one jot how I must look with front half wrapped around an invisible bridge, shoving my butt in the air. 'That's it, you're doing great.' I began to shuffle backwards, one painstaking inch at a time, my hands shaking so badly I could barely use them. 'You're almost there, your legs are off the bridge now,' Skop said, his voice strained but clear.
When my hands hit a solid barrier, I knew I'd reached the cliff. Painstakingly slowly, I unwrapped the fingers of my left hand from the bridge, then did the same with the other. Tears were streaming down my cheeks as I held my breath, straightened and opened my eyes. I was off the bridge. I scrambled backwards, far away from the edge, and looked across at the gods through tear-blurred vision. None of them moved.
'I can't do it!' I yelled, my whole body vibrating. I felt sick. My stupid, stupid fucking body and my stupid, stupid fucking brain won't let me do it. A sob escaped me and I swore viciously. I hadn't wanted to look weak. I hadn't wanted to make myself a target. I was supposed to be the underdog who would hold her own.
But look at me. Sobbing and shaking like a little girl, too frightened to cross a damned bridge.
And the whole of Olympus had seen me fail.
Fifteen
'This room isn't that bad,' said Skop as he jumped up onto the bed beside me. I pulled the covers further over my head.
'It's not about the fucking room,' I snapped. And honestly, knowing that the view out of the window that I hadn't managed to win would be that awful wasteland, I meant it. 'It's about looking like a fucking idiot in front of the whole damn world.'
'Maybe nobody was watching today,' the kobaloi said.
'Yeah, right.' Zeus, Athena, Hades, all of the gods were watching. They'd all seen me go to pieces, fail spectacularly at a test of glory. They'd all seen the judges award me zero tokens, before I was flashed back to my bedroom, shaking and crying. I screwed my face up and shouted abuse into my pillow. I was so angry with myself. I felt like my body had betrayed me, and I couldn't do anything about it. The feeling of impotence, the lack of anyone else to blame, the memories of spending years feeling too weak to achieve anything were overwhelming me. Fury was starting to build deep down in the pit of my stomach, and I had no outlet. I couldn't hide in this bed forever. But how the hell could I show my face?
I knew very little about this world, and I had no idea just how many people had witnessed my breakdown. But even one person seeing it was one too many. My fears were exposed, and I was a failure.
'Have you always been afraid of heights?' asked Skop, his voice gentler than usual.
'Yes.'
'Do you have any other fears?'
'None so fucking debilitating,' I spat. Shame was burning inside me, fueled with anger. I wanted to escape my own body, be somebody else. Anybody else.
'Good. They can't use the same test twice. So that's the worst out of the way.'
I peeked over the edge of the comforter and looked at him.
'Really? I'll never have to do that again?'
'Nope.'
'Thank fuck for that.' A little slither of relief, or hope, cut through the shame. But I still had to go out there again. I still had to show my face, after looking so utterly pathetic.
There was a loud knock at my door, and I drew the comforter back over my head.
'Go away!' I shouted.
'You know, hiding under the covers is not really helping your image,' said Hecate, and I heard the door shut behind her. Shame shivered through me again.
'What am I supposed to do, just pretend it never happened?'
'Yes. That's exactly what you need to do. Shrug it off like you couldn't give a shit.'