“Let’s start with Elyius Monstrat,” the professor says. “Since I already know what his ability is.”
I twist to look at Ely. He just smirks at me before he gets up to stand in front of the classroom. He holds his hand out like he’s trying to catch rain drops, but then his eyes light orange and a matching flame appears in his hand. The flame flickers and dances, but doesn’t seem to burn Ely.
“Haven,” the professor says. “Touch the flame.”
For a brief moment, Haven doesn’t move. Clearly this is a trap. Ely’s gift wouldn’t be a gift if the flame didn’t also burn.
“Mr. Knightfall,” the professor says, sharper this time.
Haven finally pushes his chair back and walks to the front of the room. With irritation glittering in his eyes, he stares at Ely and then reaches his hand out to the flame.
Skin sizzles and Haven hisses as he snaps his hand back.
Steam rises from his fingers as the charred flesh bubbles and then quickly heals over as if the injury never happened. Except the stench still lingers in the library. Burnt skin and burnt hair and...ugh it’s disgusting. I can only imagine how it felt.
For a brief moment, I feel bad for Haven and then I remind myself of his cruelty and quash the sympathy.
“Elyius Monstrat,” Mr. Monstrat says. “The gift of summoning flame that burns hotter than the Underworld. Go ahead and take your seat, Ely.”
Ely winks at Haven and Haven visibly trembles with rage.
When Ely returns to our table, I lean over and whisper, “Is the professor your dad?”
“Uncle,” he answers back. “But I’ve lived with him the last few years.”
“Anastasha Hearthtender,” the professor calls.
Son of a nymph!
Dread turns my blood cold. My heart hammers in my head.
I wish my power was to turn invisible like Hades’s Helm of Darkness. Because I’d use that power right now to run away from the room.
“Anastasha,” the professor says again.
Haven is still standing at the front of the room waiting. I’m to be partnered with him as he was with Ely? I’m still bristling from our encounter last night. And yeah, a little embarrassed too.
Haven saw me naked.
To make it fair, I should see him naked.
That thought somehow makes me flush more than standing up in front of the class with a power that I don’t control.
I get up from the table and go to stand in front of Haven. His expression is blank now and I don’t know if that’s a good or bad thing.
“Show us your power, Haven,” the professor says.
Haven gets to use his power on me like Ely did on him.
Did Haven use his power last night? Because if so it was just brute strength. I can withstand that. Hell, I already did.
Thanks for the sneak peek Knightfall! You idiot. Maybe the secret to winning this trial is simply to use my brain.
Haven’s jaw clenches. His amber eye flashes.
I grin smugly at him and then—
The library disappears.
Blackness crowds my vision and the air smells of sulphur and rot and brimstone. I take a step back and slam into wet, black rock and when I take another look around, I realize I’m in what appears to be a cave lit by a phantom flickering flame.
Something tickles on my arm. I brush it away and feel the spindly legs of a spider.
A shiver runs through me.
I hate spiders.
Like really really hate them.
They rarely come into Hestia’s House. Part of her god power is to create a warm, inviting home and spiders aren’t warm and inviting.
I feel a whisper of legs on my neck and bat at the sensation.
Then another on my leg. And another on my neck.
I twist away from the rock wall, backpedaling, but my boot catches on a sharp edge of the stone floor. I’m falling before I realize I am, before I can correct myself. When I slam to the stone, the air is knocked out of me and I blink back tears. Coppery blood fills my mouth.
The phantom flame flickers across the cavern ceiling and the ceiling moves.
I’m lying there trying to catch my breath when something drops from above, plinks against my forehead and then scuttles over my nose.
I lurch upright only to see I’m covered in spiders from my boots to my waist. They’re a quickly rising tide.
A scream rips from my throat. I scramble back, batting at my legs, my face, my chest. They’re everywhere. I can feel their spider legs scurrying up my arms and crawling into my hair and crawling into my ears and—
—I scream and scream and scream and—
Laughter.
I open my eyes.
I’m back in the library lying on the Olympian rugs. I’m sweating. Trembling. Sobbing. I can’t breathe.
And everyone is laughing at me.
Somehow this is worse.
It’s worse than last night.
Worse than standing naked in front of Haven, bare and vulnerable.
This is worse because he’s just made a fool of me and I never saw it coming.
I scramble to my feet. The mortification is burning through me now. A hot, pulsing rage. I want to make him feel the same mortification. I want to show everyone in this room what I can do, what I did to him last night. I’ll turn him blacker than ash.
I grab him at the wrist and squeeze.
He tenses for a brief second, eyes pinched, teeth clamped together, the anticipation clearly etched across his face.
But...nothing happens.
I squeeze harder.
Haven cants his head and a lock of his dark hair falls forward. There’s a derisive smile on his stupid handsome face.
I can feel everyone watching me now for other reasons. Clearly they sense that I’m failing on every level, even though half of them have no idea what I did to Haven last night in the shower.
“Ms. Hearthtender,” the professor says. “If this is your defensive move, I must say, it's woefully inadequate.”
Haven practically cuts me with his mismatched eyes. I can’t tell what he’s thinking. Probably what a loser I am. An embarrassment.
What the hell do I think I’m doing anyway? I’m not going to win this competition.
And Haven’s right—probably after the first trial, I’ll be stripped from everyone’s memories and banished to the mortal realm with nothing more than the clothing on my back and the burning realization that I lost.
I drop Haven’s arm and run from the room.
Chapter 12
One good cry and a nap worthy of the realm of death later, I’m finally calmed down enough to go in search of some food. The lack of windows in Hades House makes it difficult to tell exactly what time of day it is, which is probably intentional as the Underworld runs on a totally different concept of time. For someone who grew up in Hestia’s light-filled sanctuary, the lack of sunlight or even the sight of the outdoors is only serving to deepen my anguish over my stay here.
I peek out into the hall before I emerge from my bedroom to make sure I’m not about to be ambushed again by Haven and his fan club. My humiliation in class has shattered any vestiges of the control I felt after our fight in the shower.
Heat flashes in my face again when I recall the way Haven looked at me standing there naked in front of him. What did he think of me? Surely he’s conquered many young women by now. Surely I don’t compare.