{ Earlier that day }
Gavin O’Rourke wiped away the cold sweat gathered across his brow and wished not for the first time that he was anywhere but here. Dust wafted through the air that stagnated just inside the iron grates separating Gavin and the arena floor. Tiny sunbeams pierced through those tiny square holes, dancing among the dust and deceiving Gavin into a false sense of security.
There was nothing safe out there.
Out there, he would have to compete in the final trial of the most deadly tournament in the world. Out there, he would be alone.
Again.
Gavin adjusted the silken ascot he had painstakingly cleaned of the blood and grime that had collected across its pink and blue expanse these past few days. He had shaved, washed, and groomed his fingernails within an inch of their lives, all in a feverish attempt to increase his odds in whatever Life threw at them.
“Are you ready Gavin?” Cade sent through the telepathic link. It was like someone plucked at an invisible string inside his mind, the sound coming from both nowhere and everywhere at once.
“Yes! Sorry about that, Cade. I’m ready,” Gavin replied quickly, though he shoved as much nonchalance through the link as he could.
Nervous as he was, Gavin refused to let Cade pick up on his fear, lest the man get distracted. He simply refused to be the weak link in Cade's insane scheme.
The telepath shook his head, a mix of disbelief and reluctant admiration warring in his mind as he recalled the intricacies of Cade's plan. “Ambitious” didn't even begin to cover it. It was the kind of scheme that would make a drunken gambler think twice, a plan so audacious it bordered on suicidal.
And yet, here they all were.
Strangely enough, Gavin found himself in the enviable position of having the safest job out of all of them. Well, mostly safe. There had been that little matter this morning, when he'd had to dig into his less-than-savory connections with the Stone Britches. He'd dangled just enough bait to lure those thugs into George's territory, setting the stage for whatever chaos Cade had planned.
Gavin would play his part, keep his mind sharp and focused. Because if there was one thing he'd learned, it was that being in Cade's orbit might be dangerous as all four hells, but it was never, ever boring.
And if he was honest with himself, he wouldn't have it any other way.
Soon, the iron barrier started to rise into the ceiling of the tunnel, letting in the sunlight and the hellstrom of noise the crowd emitted. It swept over him like a tidal wave and sent goosebumps spreading across his lean body.
“It’s starting,” Gavin sent to the team leader before he released the connection and adjusted the collar of his jacket.
With a quick breath to steady his nerves, he walked alone out into the arena. Cries of disbelief rose through the massive colosseum at his arrival, and he could practically taste the wild cocktail of emotions from the crowd. He caught the tiniest snippets of thoughts from those who were practically screaming their emotions:
“He’s alone!”
“Gods, I hope he’s still single after this…”
“Where’s the Bloodsucker?”
“Shit, I sat on my sandwich again…”
Gavin did his best to tune out the barrage of psychic noise, gritting his teeth while he forced his shoulders to remain relaxed. He played with the tiny gem and silver chain that sat atop his ascot. He couldn’t believe that tiny girl had convinced him to wear it today.
Evie…
… gods, she was strange.
To his right and left, the other teams were huddled up across the arena. He spotted that bastard Hugh and the four teammates that remained in his crew, and a pit as dark as the abyss formed in his gut. Behind them was that terrifying draugr girl and her entourage of hooded assistants. Then, to his surprise, the final vestiges of the elven escort appeared from behind an iron grate to his right.
Four teams.
Well, three teams and himself. Gavin cursed under his breath at the shitty odds stacked against him.
“WELCOME, MY CHILDREN.”
Life’s booming yet husky voice dominated the arena. It was a balm to his soul seeing her descend from the clouds. She wore a new gown today, this one a single-strapped dress woven out of gold strands so fine that it appeared virtually weightless on her. Bright green energy danced and swayed around her bodice and across her petite arms, filling Gavin with an irrational desire to seize her then and there and pleasure her until she moaned his name.
But she, like so much in this wretched city, was a lie.
Gavin looked away, clutching the tiny blue pendant tightly in his palm. He swallowed hard and repeated his oldest mantra over and over until his mind cleared.
“My name is Gavin O’Rourke. I am more than the powers that made me. My name is…”
Gavin’s mind slowly released its hold on the divine obsession Life’s presence always caused in him. He hated how easily she could affect his emotions. Being a telepath already made him susceptible to such influences, but lycanthropes were disproportionately… passionate.
“THERE IS ONE MORE LESSON YET TO LEARN. MAY YOU ALL DISCOVER THE MEANING OF ME!”
Life stretched her arms wide as she spoke, and Gavin felt every nerve in his body scream with shock as he was lifted off the ground as easily as a child raised a toy into the air.
When he was set back down, the world around him had changed. His mind reeled, and as he tried to make sense of his surroundings, he plucked at the mental string between him and Cade.
Good. It was still there.
He blinked rapidly as his eyes adjusted to his new surroundings. To his surprise, he was surrounded by giant crystals.
The floor he now stood on shone with prismatic light deep within its transparent structure. It was like some divine resin or ichor flowed within the massive quartz, slowly transported through invisible veins. Around him stood the three other teams, each of them just as confused and disoriented as himself. They were clumped together, though he noticed that all of their weapons were sheathed or missing.
For now.
Around them in a wide circle was a wall of crystals that had a strange pattern across it. He was no expert on the subject, but the subtle carvings looked like runes. That was no real surprise, given Life’s love of them.
For several minutes, nothing happened. No one moved, and no one spoke.
With an absence of anything else to do, Gavin decided to test what kind of ward this was. He lightly tapped the surface of the opaque wall, and he immediately shot backward as lightning coursed up his arm. He screamed in pain while the other teams looked on with derision and curiosity.
“Amateur,” Hugh breathed down at him with arms crossed over his muscular chest. The light-haired aristocrat at his side snorted and turned away. Gavin followed their gaze.
A spiraling stairway made from diamonds was guarded by some hovering specter of a woman just ahead of them. His gaze roamed upward, and he saw that there were several more floors above them, each construct with the same semi-transparent material. Sunlight glittered and refracted from the top of this crystalline structure.
“My name is Gavin O’Rourke. I am more than the powers that made me,” the lycanthrope muttered under his breath.
The teams surged forward like a pack of starved wolves, their eyes locked on the stairs and the ethereal woman who beckoned them onward. It was as if some invisible puppeteer had yanked their strings, setting them all in motion at once.
Gavin hauled himself to his feet with a grunt, brushing off his pants and jacket as if he could wipe away the stench of fear and anticipation that clung to them all. His freshly polished shoes—because even in the face of possible death, a man had to have standards—clomped against the unforgiving surface. The sound echoed in the chamber, a jarring counterpoint to the hushed tension that had fallen over the lot of them.
As he fell in step behind the others, Gavin's mind raced. What fresh hell awaited them at the top of those stairs? What twisted game had the architects of this nightmare cooked up for their final act?
He squared his shoulders, a grim smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Well, if this was to be their final dance with death, he might as well face it head-on. After all, a little mortal peril always spiced things up.
When Gavin got closer to the floating woman, he noticed it was a projection of Life herself. The goddess’ telltale aura was entirely absent, and the telepath let out a quiet sigh of relief at that. He didn’t need his emotions toyed with at a time like this.
The pale little girl reached the stairs first. She set her hands on her hips and tilted her head upward.
Hugh, however, spoke first.
“How may we pass to the next floor, Goddess of Life?” Hugh asked loudly in an authoritative way that made it seem as though he was in charge of them all.
Gavin hated it.
“NO VIOLENCE IS PERMITTED TO SOLVE THE FOLLOWING PUZZLES. TO DO SO WOULD GO AGAINST THE VERY PURPOSE OF THIS FINAL LESSON.”
Life’s smile widened as she floated on some unfelt breeze. When she spoke, it was with the motherly tone of a teacher.
“A TRAVELER WANDERS THROUGH AN ENDLESS DESERT, EACH STEP HARDER THAN THE LAST. AT THE HORIZON, AN OASIS APPEARS, BUT WHEN THEY ARRIVE, IT VANISHES. WHAT KEEPS THEM WALKING?”
“A riddle? Seriously?” Gavin exclaimed and raised his hands in defeat.
Yep.
He was going to die here.
The apparition didn’t move, instead patiently awaiting an answer. He planted a palm on each side of his hips and stared in annoyance at the goddess.
“How many guesses do we get?” he asked her.
“AS MANY AS NEEDED, THOUGH A CHAMPION MUST REMAIN BEHIND FOR EACH WRONG ANSWER.”
At her words, Gavin felt a strange wetness around his ankles. He looked down and saw that the resin he’d spotted before now seeped through invisible cracks in the floor. The ceiling above them was barely seven or eight feet high. It would take a little while, but there was no doubt in his mind that this chamber would fill with this shimmering liquid before he knew it.
“Cade,” Gavin sent, but while he felt the connection loud and clear in his mind, the blonde evil genius didn’t respond.
His gaze rose to Life’s, and he swallowed hard. With as much calmness and charisma as he could manage, he addressed the apparition. “Can you repeat the riddle, please?”
“What’s wrong, little pup? Can’t recall a few simple lines you just heard a few seconds ago?” Hugh chastised from in front of their group.
Gavin’s eyes narrowed on the bastard, but he didn’t take the bait.
“NOTHING WILL BE REPEATED.”
Her luscious locks swirled around her face, while the gold dress contorted around her sumptuous body. The other teams began discussing amongst themselves in earnest.
“Of course,” Gavin whispered in frustration at the obnoxiously attractive deity. “I barely remember what you said, and now I have to solve this riddle all on my own?! If I fail, I’m stuck here?!”
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
He looked down and cursed loudly. The resin was past his knees now.
He needed to get out of here.
Unlike his teammates, however, he didn’t have a convenient ward on his chest to erase and escape this accursed crystalline coffin.
“Cade,” he sent through his connection to their resident evil genius. “Cade!”
“I’m a little busy right now!” Cade shot back, only to sever the connection.
Gavin rubbed his eyes and replayed Life’s words as best he could, unconsciously rubbing the blue pendant between his thumb and index finger as he thought.
“A traveler tromps through a desert,” he muttered, doing his best to remember what she’d said. “Something about an oasis he can’t reach, and she wants to know what keeps him walking.”
There was the obvious answer to the riddle: hope. But that wasn’t the style of these trials. Life wasn’t benevolent. She was strong. She was fierce. This riddle would reflect that iron will but also have some sort of twist to it.
He put himself in the shoes of that traveler. He imagined what it would be like to reach an oasis, only for it to disappear. What would get him to take another step?
One of the elves approached the goddess and whispered something quietly in elvish to her. The deity shook her head and one of the other elves cried out in dismay. One of them would have to remain behind now.
Hugh sent one of his teammates trudging forward through the resin—the human with the bald head and terrible fashion sense—and the goddess nodded her head at whatever he whispered to her. The team cheered, and they started up the stairs in earnest. Hugh looked over one shoulder at Gavin and sneered before he disappeared up the steps.
It clicked for him, then.
The answer hit Gavin like a punch to the gut, leaving him breathless and reeling. Despair. It was so obvious, so brutally, horrifically obvious that he almost laughed. The traveler, forever walking towards a horizon that never came closer, wasn't driven by hope or determination. No, what pushed them forward after being broken so many times by hope was the crushing weight of futility, the knowledge that there was no escape, no relief, no end to their journey.
For a moment, doubt flickered in Gavin's mind. Surely this couldn't be right. Surely there had to be a less soul-crushing answer, something that didn’t make him want to curl up in a ball and weep for the sheer pointlessness of it all. But the more he turned it over in his mind, the more certain he became.
Gavin's throat felt dry as he prepared to voice the answer. In this game, he couldn’t make even one wrong move. One mistake would mean losing everything, and the team was relying on him to do this.
His team, he realized.
He could see the same realization dawning in the eyes of his companions, could feel the weight of despair settling over them like a shroud. This wasn’t just a riddle—it was a mirror, reflecting back the darkest parts of their own journey. How many times had they pushed forward, not because they truly believed they'd succeed, but because the alternative was too terrible to contemplate? How often had despair, not hope, been the force driving them onward?
He trudged through the resin until he stood just beneath the floating image of Life.
“Despair,” he said, too quietly for the others to hear.
The ichor drained away from around his legs and pooled up nearby. Gavin lifted his ruined shoes out of the retreating resin, cursing when he saw the extent of the damage.
His whole outfit was ruined now.
With a grace that belied his massive frame, he bounded up the stairs, taking them two at a time. His boots tapped against the crystal, a staccato rhythm that echoed in the eerie silence. As he crested the top of the staircase, his hackles immediately rose.
There, lounging against the far wall with all the smug arrogance of cats who'd gotten into the cream, stood Hugh and his merry band of bastards. They watched him with smirks and sneers, and one of them clapped sarcastically at Gavin’s success.
The lycanthrope's blood boiled at the sight of them, a red haze threatening to descend over his vision. Every instinct screamed at him to lunge forward, to tear into them with fang and claw until there was nothing left but bloody ribbons and regret.
But he held back, his muscles quivering with the effort of restraint. The goddess's warning echoed in his mind, a leash of words holding back the beast within. He knew, with the bone-deep certainty of a predator, that if he got any closer, all bets were off. It didn't matter how many of Hugh's lackeys there were—he'd rip them to shreds, consequences be damned.
So he stood there, a coiled spring of fury, waiting for whatever fresh hell this floor had in store for them. And if his eyes never left Hugh's smirking face, if his nails dug furrows into his own palms as he fought for control—well, that was nobody's business but his own.
After all, they were all trapped in this nightmare together. Might as well play nice... for now.
Nearly two full minutes passed before the three elves and the full clan of draugrs ascended the final step into the new chamber. The moment they did, a shimmering wall of crystal appeared over the stairs. Then, on the opposite side of the room where another staircase that led upward stood, a projection of Life bled into existence.
“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me!” Gavin shouted.
Not another one.
“A CREATURE SHEDS ITS SKIN, LEAVING BEHIND WHAT IT ONCE WAS. IT GROWS STRONGER, FASTER, MORE CUNNING, BUT WITH EACH CHANGE, IT BECOMES LESS OF WHAT IT ONCE KNEW. WHAT IS IT THAT TRULY CHANGES?”
Life’s voice had a sing-song tilt to it that got on Gavin’s nerves immediately. He focused this time around, forcing his mind to recall every word of the riddle.
Water started to seep into his boots. It moved far quicker than the resin, and it was after only a few heartbeats that the water was nearly to his shins. He heard a few of the others in the chamber grumble and curse as they too were experiencing the cruelty of waterlogged shoes.
“Seriously?” Gavin grumbled. “Riddles are a form of torture.”
He rubbed at his temples in a vain attempt to alleviate the panic gnawing away at his self-control.
“YOUR ANSWER, CHAMPIONS?” Life requested sweetly.
The water was at his knees and then his thighs. Gavin cursed but forced his mind to remain calm. He recited the riddle over and over again to himself. One of the draugrs approached the goddess, and again the apparition shook her head. He glanced as inconspicuously as he could at the deathly pale girl with twin braids, and she looked entirely unfazed by the death sentence she’d just given her traveling companion.
“Damn it all,” Gavin whispered and looked up at Life.
‘Safest role in the plan,’ his ass.
He would not die here like some animal. He would win this gods-damned contest if it was the last thing he did. The telepath adjusted his ascot, noticing for the first time how warm the pendant that hung there was growing. Life gazed back at him, and it occurred to him how much she adored looking down on them.
“We must work together if we’re going to get out of this!” Hugh yelled over the roar of the water. The chilly liquid swirled around them in a foamy vortex, and Gavin struggled to maintain his footing.
Barely beyond his senses, he could feel the pounding chants of the audience just outside this crystalline chamber. Tens of thousands of people were watching, baiting them to hurry up and answer the gods-damned riddle.
“What do you suggest?” One of the elves with aggravatingly perfect auburn locks inquired.
Hugh met her gaze, the large scar across his eye stark against the glow of the crystals. “We’ll all die in here one by one. Better we share our answers so fewer of us perish.”
Gavin wanted to scream at the man and rend him limb from limb. That bastard didn’t care about saving the others. He’d happily walked up the stairs first and left the others to rot. Odds were that he barely extended his narcissistic self-preservation to his own teammates, much less his competition.
“Fine!” It was the draugr girl who spoke up, surprising all of them.
Even Hugh raised his eyebrows at the undead’s proclamation.
“What is the answer, human?” she demanded.
Though the waters continued to rise within the chamber, Gavin watched Hugh hesitate. His orcish companion loomed above the water, and he knew that the brute would spring at anyone who got too close.
“What is the answer to the riddle, old man?!” the draugr demanded with an icy tone. She waded effortlessly in the rising tide—at least that was what Gavin thought until he noticed that two of her taller comrades were holding her aloft on their massive shoulders.
Cheater, Gavin thought bitterly. He forced himself to disregard all of these distractions.
The riddle was about change. About a creature who lost themselves as they sought more and more power. Like the previous one, he suspected that the answer was not the most obvious answer, but the darker and more desolate one.
Just like Life, he thought bitterly.
Hugh approached the apparition and spoke quietly. She nodded her head sagely, and he turned to the tournament finalists with a triumphant grin.
“The answer is evolution!” Hugh bellowed, and there was a collective gasp of relief at his words.
The elves and a draugr rushed forward to give their own answers as Hugh and his team leapt for the next staircase. Everyone was soaked, and water trailed down the stairs after Hugh’s retreating form.
The rushing water grew louder and louder, and it was all Gavin could do to focus.
That can’t be right, Gavin internally contemplated. He needed a second opinion, and he didn’t have much time.
“Cade!” Gavin sent hurriedly. He tried to keep the worst of his panic outside of the mental link, but it was worse than wading through this torrent.
Gavin growled in frustration. “Cade, please! I need your help! You’ve got to get up here as soon as you can! I’m about to die!”
There was a pause before Cade answered. “What’s going on? What’s the challenge?”
“It’s a gauntlet where one wrong answer requires the sacrifice of a teammate to move forward. But I don’t have anybody here to sacrifice! I’m going to die. I’m shit with riddles. I am absolutely going to die. It’s a miracle I’ve made it this far. The other teams haven’t been so lucky. You don’t understand how—”
“Gavin!” Cade shot back, and the authoritative tone was enough to shock Gavin out of his panicked tirade.
The lycanthrope went silent.
“Hold on,” Cade told him. “I’ve been… delayed, but you can do this. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
Great.
Just great.
“Abyss below, what’s the point of attuning to focal stones for the team if we don’t use the gods-damned link?!” Gavin splashed at the water and swam forward, cursing and groaning at the destruction wrought to his clothes.
He treaded water and neared the floating apparition, whose expression hadn’t changed even as they approached the point of drowning in this gods-forsaken bowl.
To his right and left, the elves screamed and thrashed. He pushed past them, though he heard one of them say: “Liar!”
Gavin’s mind cleared.
The pendant that Evie had given him was nearly too painful to touch as it seared against his ascot. How odd. He clearly remembered there being no enchantments on the tiny blue gem.
The answer slammed into Gavin's mind like a runaway carriage, leaving him momentarily stunned.
Identity.
The creature in the riddle, shedding its skin and evolving, wasn't just changing its physical form. No, with each transformation, it was losing pieces of itself, its original essence fading away like mist in the morning sun. Sure, it gained new strengths, new abilities with each change—but at a cost.
Dark brown curls soaked and mangled across his scalp, but he flicked them out of his face and spoke to the goddess. Her golden green eyes shifted to him, and he glimpsed a sinister pleasure just behind that maternal gaze.
“Identity, you hag. The answer is identity. Now, let me salvage what I can from my clothes,” Gavin spat even as he kicked his legs as hard as he could to keep his head above the rising water.
One of the projection’s intangible eyes twitched slightly, but she nodded her head.
Relief swept through him, and the water receded from his waterlogged body. He turned his head to the remaining contestants, but a wind shoved him up through the staircase before he could tell them the answer.
“No! NO!” he slammed his fist against the crystal railing, but the wind continued to yank him upward. “NO! It’s identity! The answer is identity! Let me help them! Gods damn it!”
It was no use.
The lycanthrope’s body was tossed unceremoniously on the ground when he reached the top of the stairs. This level had a faint pink hue to its walls, but was otherwise exactly the same as level two.
Groaning and still soaking wet, Gavin pushed himself onto his knees just as the footsteps of a man with leather boots neared.
Hugh.
The bastard knelt down until their faces were mere inches apart. “You deserved to be excommunicated from Bernard’s company, mutt. If you’d pulled that sort of shit in my crew, I would’ve tossed you to the wolves long ago. Mercy is for cowards.”
The steps receded, leaving Gavin face down on the ground. There was a brief flash of green light somewhere behind him, accompanied swiftly by a few others in quick succession. He felt warm hands on his back, and he was shifted over to his side right as Evie tackled him with a ferocious hug.
“What the—” Gavin barely got out before the sound of drawn swords burst forth.
“NO!” Hugh bellowed. “That’s impossible! You can’t—”
“Cheat?” Rayka’s voice sliced through Hugh’s outrage like a chipped knife. “What, like you did? Kidnapping and blacklisting us wasn’t enough? How about the torture?!”
Gavin could smell the thick scents of iron, as well as the distinct aromas of fermented honey and rotting wood coming from the young Stormhollow girl. Rage the depths of which Gavin could barely fathom spewed from the woman like rolls of thunder.
“We are prohibited to fight,” the massive orc in Hugh’s team noted reluctantly.
“Then put down your cleavers, you oversized goblin,” Nora snapped in her trademark biting tone.
Gavin got up, easily lifting Evie with him as he did. She clung to his neck, even when he tried to extricate her surprisingly strong fingers from around him.
Orro, Nora, Jer, Elena, and Rayka stood in front of him. Elena was weighed down by heavy packs, and he could faintly smell their contents past the worn leather. His heart leapt as he saw the lot of them, and he’d never been happier to see anyone before.
They had done it.
“Is that what I think it is?” Gavin asked Elena with a happy grin.
“Robbed George blind,” Elena said with a wink as she handed off some of the pouches to Jer. “Thanks for getting that riot started. The turf war between the two gangs meant far fewer guards in the treasury.”
“A pleasure,” Gavin said.
Now, all they had to do was wait for Cade, and they could leave as kings and queens of this accursed city.
A rumble from deep below the crystalline tower rippled up through the structure. At first, he thought it was the draugr girl attempting to break out of her prison, but it was far closer to the base of the spire than that. Plus, if she wielded that much power, she would’ve used it far sooner.
The apparition of Life shimmered into existence right as the diamondlike wall slammed into place behind them. At the same moment, the staircase that led to the next floor burst into a shower of sparkles and Life spoke.
“DUE TO THE NEWCOMERS, THIS FINAL LESSON SHALL BE MODIFIED. EACH REMAINING TEAM MUST CHOOSE A SPOKESPERSON TO ANSWER MY RIDDLE, BUT COMBAT MAY RESUME AMONGST MY WORTHY CHAMPIONS. DISCOVER THE MEANING OF ME BEFORE IT’S TOO LATE.”
At the goddess’ words, tiny plumes of pink smoke that smelled of death started to spill out from the edges of the wide chamber.
“ONLY ONE TEAM MAY RISE TRIUMPHANT. GOOD LUCK, MY CHILDREN.”
“I really hate that lady,” Gavin muttered darkly. “I’ll go solve this riddle. I think I’ve got the hang of how her twisted mind works. Just survive until then, okay?”
“Oh, I’m all for this plan,” Elena answered with a vicious grin. “I have a knife with Hugh’s castration written all over it.”
“Seriously, sis. Therapist. See one,” Jer admonished, but his grin was just as wild and bloodthirsty.
Good. They had a debt to settle while Gavin tried to solve the riddle of a demented goddess.
What could go wrong?
What's Gavin's REAL motivation for getting through Life's riddles?
