Page 38 of Damned and Broken Gods (Labyrinth of Gods #2)

“The stone that you speak of is certainty. Belief. Foundation. And there is only one thing strong enough to challenge and change the shape of those, to maybe even shatter them. It has no weight, it’s unseen.

It can burn in the bones, and it dies if held too tightly.

But if freed it can thrive.” I took a deep breath. “The answer is truth.”

His eyes flared bright as if burning a path to my soul, and when he spoke, his voice was an echoing rumble. “Then with truth you may pass, Flameborn.”

The tunnel vibrated, and stone groaned as he stepped aside, placing his back to the tunnel wall. Heat smacked me in the face and made my eyes sting. I blinked back tears, staring at the arch that waited for me.

“Enter,” the guardian said. “Read the stones and answer with truth, and the bridge will form. Lie and you will fall.”

Legs trembling, I walked past the guardian and through the arch.

Hot air surrounded me, sucking at my skin and pulling the breath from my lungs.

It took a moment to acclimatize to the temperature change and for my blurred vision to clear.

But when it did, I found myself on the threshold to a circular chamber that had no floor.

An island sat in the center, housing a pedestal with a box on it.

I took a step forward onto the ledge that protruded toward the island then peered down at a drop that seemed to go on for an age, ending in the bright orange glow of molten lava.

What had the guardian said? That questions would appear on stone?

I looked down at the ledge as words materialized in glowing white script, in a language I couldn’t read. I blinked and the words blurred, and when they sharpened, I could read them.

What is your biggest regret?

I stared at the question for several beats.

I had many regrets. Leaving home, dating Matthew, giving up the things I loved for him.

But my greatest one…The one that tore at me silently every day, was how I’d failed Nani.

By allowing other people’s opinions to shape my perception of her.

For leaving and dissociating myself from what I’d allowed myself to believe was eccentricity, for not going back sooner, and finally for my inability to save her.

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “My biggest regret is the way I allowed the world to shape my relationship with Nani, and how I failed to save her when she needed me the most.”

The question on the stone melted, and a fizz of power swept over my skin before another section of stone appeared, extending toward the island in the center of the chamber. I walked forward as far as I could go and waited as another question formed.

What do you grieve the most?

Nani came to mind first off, but then I reread the question.

What did I grieve the most? What , not who .

Shit, I didn’t know. What did I grieve the most?

Not my mortal home. I grieved the loss of Nani and Pashim, but my instincts told me that these weren’t true answers, not in the deepest, rawest sense.

There was another answer floating at the edge of my consciousness.

I exhaled and let it drift in like the tide.

Heat pricked at my eyes. Nothing to do with the lava below and everything to do with the emotions swelling inside me.

When I spoke, my voice cracked, thick with emotion.

“I grieve the time I lost with Nani and Pashim. The years we could have had. The moments that we’ll never share.

I grieve the loss of time with those that are now gone. ”

The chamber seemed to sigh, a cool breeze kissing the back of my neck, and another section of the ledge appeared. The bridge grew, pushing out so we were over halfway toward the island.

I walked forward and stopped at the next line of emerging text.

What belief do you crave that only another’s perception can gift to you?

The question made my stomach tremble, but the answer came to me in a rush, like a fist to the chest. There was one thing I’d craved all my life.

The very thing that Pashim had tried to give me but I hadn’t seen.

It was now the one thing only Araz could give me, if he stayed.

If he chose me over his war. Hot tears blurred my vision, spilling down my cheeks with every blink, and when I spoke, my tone was raw and broken. “The belief that I am enough.”

Another sigh filled the chamber, another ripple of cool air, and the bridge extended, rushing toward the island and stopping shy by two meters.

The final question bloomed.

Are you ready to bear the weight of the crown that awaits you?

I’d been mentally preparing for weeks now. Training and pushing myself. I was ready to advocate for the people. Ready to be what they needed. I lifted my chin.

“I’m ready.”

My voice rang out clear and loud, echoing around the chamber. I waited for the sigh, the whisper of cold air and the extension of the bridge.

But instead, there was a rumble followed by the guardian’s voice. “The path yields only to those who stand naked in doubt and still rise.”

Snap…crack .

I looked down at the bridge beneath my boots, at the fractures creeping across the stone, multiplying with lethal intention.

I’d gotten it wrong? How?

Another rumble, and the bridge shook, confirming my failure.

There was no way I’d make the jump to the island, and even if I did, how would I get off it?

I turned and ran back toward the arch as the bridge began to crumble, dropping away behind me now. Faster. Faster.

I was almost at the main ledge. Almost safe.

The stone beneath my feet gave way.

My stomach slammed into my ribs, and I fell.