Page 6

The air smelt of sweat and freshly made bread as people packed the route to wave us off.

Like lambs to the slaughter.The cheers from the crowd were nearly deafening.

Everywhere I looked, there were glittering gold masks staring back at me as people waved enthusiastically from all over.

Some were hanging off their balconies, some had climbed up light poles, but most were pressed along the barricades that lined the uneven streets, eager to see this year’s contestants.

Celebratory music pulsed throughout the city as we wove through the web of streets that led to our final destination.

We passed the Notre Dame crossing over the Seine where rows of boats were filled with spectators, dining, and drinking, and waving at us.

There were several bodies on display, strung up for their crimes in the square, as a reminder of what becomes of those who cross the gods, but today?

No one was paying their decaying corpses any attention.

Usually, I would spend this day tucked away inside, hiding from the commotion with my nose in a book.

But today, I was the entertainment. Someone to take a bet on.

I felt like a spectacle being picked apart as I walked by, escorted by the royal guards while the rest of the city celebrated the day off, grateful to have been spared or just elated to have an excuse to get drunk at nine in the morning.

My brother, Jean, my sister Marley, and my father all accompanied me on the way, sitting in a place of honor on the float ahead of me.

All the contestants’ families had one while we were dragged from behind, tethered.

Marley was in her element, playing to the crowd, while Jean and father looked on stoically.

As we moved, I could see more of who was being carted off to the floats. The time gave me an opportunity to examine my fellow contestants.

From where I was located, I could only make out about half of who would be playing, but from what I could visualize, I was in for some stiff competition.

There were several heavily built men, whose muscles seemed cut from stone, and the girls had a cunning and quick look about them.

One of the contestants in particular with dark unkempt hair and broad shoulders, kept looking over at me with a smirk on his lips like he might try and eat me for breakfast. It was unnerving and made my stomach roil.

Once we arrived at the gates, we were allowed to say our last goodbyes as spectators looked on cheering for us.

A court jester was hanging above the crowd on a high wire, doing flips to the crowd’s delight.

There were dancers balancing on the tops of round hoops and jugglers spread throughout.

A man blowing fire was stationed near the entrance and I made a mental note to sidestep him, for fear of singing off my eyebrows.

The entrance to the catacombs had been fashioned as a stone devil skull, with horns and its large mouth sat open wide, swallowing anyone who passed through whole. It sent a shiver of fear along my skin, knowing that once I entered those gates, I might not come back out again.

The guards unhooked our chains from the floats giving us agency to move about freely once more. My eyes swept over the crowd looking for Theo. He promised he would meet me here, but so far, I couldn’t find him.

My father gripped me hard around the shoulders and pierced me with a serious look.

“My darling girl, I know that you might want to go for the healer’s mask for your mother, but I need you to listen to me.

This place is a death trap. You know how the gods like to play.

You must pick a mask that gives you a chance to survive.

Your mother and I will understand. Just make it home to us, Pigeon.

” Unshed tears clung to his irises and gutted my already emotional heart.

I wanted to tell him what he wished to hear, but I also couldn’t lie to him, so I just hugged him tightly, tucking my head against his chest wishing beyond all hope that this wasn’t really happening, and I’d wake up in my bed.

He smelled like the clay he worked with daily, though he was wearing his finest clothes as was expected, who he was at his heart shone through the spiffed-up veneer.

“I’m so glad we went with this outfit instead of the red dress, it would have gotten ruined in this heat,” Marley said.

I smirked, thankful for her lightness in that moment.

I felt seconds away from crumbling or taking off, chancing the guards shooting me right in the back. Maybe if ran fast enough…

But I knew how that ended. The gods would have their due one way or another and there’s no outrunning one of the gods once you’ve been summoned.

Jean clapped his large hand onto my shoulder. He’d be gone for training before I got out of here. If I got out.

His blond hair had already been buzzed giving his normally boyish appearance an edge. He looked so grown.

While we weren’t as close as me and Marley, he was still my brother.

“Stay alive down there.”

“You too,” I replied, knowing that after training they’d most likely send him right to the border where the fighting was mostly concentrated.

Every so often, the fighting would get closer to the city gates, but that hadn’t happened in months.

People still were acting as if everything was normal, just as long as the sound of the bombs were out of range, they could pretend we weren’t in the middle of a war that was killing our loved ones daily.

So many of the people I went to school with had already died because of it.

At least twenty percent of my graduating high school class, but people still fervently believed the gods had our best interests at heart and were doing a great job protecting us.

I didn't feel protected with numbers like that. What was most infuriating about the whole thing was when people genuinely looked confused when you brought up the war. They couldn’t fathom why anyone would be concerned about it since they claimed we have the best army in the world.

I couldn’t relate to that type of thinking, and now here I was, saying goodbye to my brother worried for his safety.

And for mine. Both of us being directly impacted by the whims of the gods.

Him by being drafted against his will, and me being summoned against mine.

Taking a step back, I looked at my family trying to hold on to this moment for as long as they would let me. Memorizing each of their faces to tuck away for later.

“Contestants, please step through the gates!” A woman in a top hat and black fitted corset to match spoke through a long brass amplifier, her voice sounding shrill but commanding.

“Wait,” I uttered, trying to find Theo in the sea of faces. His promise to meet me here before I was to be taken in rings hollow as I come up empty. He didn’t show.

“Waiting for someone?” a deep timbered voice called from behind me, making my skin erupt in a sea of goosebumps.

I turned my head to see who it was coming from and caught the wild, dark-haired contestant smirking at me. His piercing blue eyes held a shimmer of danger, like he could watch someone bleed out and enjoy it.

Scoffing, I turned my attention back to the crowd, wondering if Theo was just late, even though he was usually on time for everything.

“I don’t think he’s coming.”

“What makes you think I’m looking for a man?

” I asked, whipping around, my irritation getting the better of me.

My nerves were frayed, and I was in no mood to deal with an arrogant prick.

He had an accent that would suggest he came from across the strait.

London perhaps. That was curious. For a brief moment, I wondered what his story was.

Instead of answering me, though, he just stared at me as if he could see every thought and feeling I’ve ever had. Those icy blue eyes stared straight into my soul. I wanted to ask him what his problem was, but my tongue couldn’t seem to form the words.

“Step through the gates!” The woman with the amplifier called again, this time with more force. The guards took a step towards me, and I took the hint, turning my attention away from him.

“This is it. I love you,” I said to my family trying to sound braver than I felt as they enveloped me in one final group hug.

I shoved down my disappointment about Theo not showing up and reckoned it might be better this way— especially with how he acted yesterday.

Unshed tears threatened to spill onto my cheeks, but I held them off by sheer will alone, not wanting my family to see me defeated.

“You got this!” Marley said, squeezing my arm.

A guard ripped me out of their embrace and shoved me forward. My feet tripped over themselves as I walked past the threshold. The guard kept shoving me in the back with the butt of his gun.

“I’m going!” I responded, hands up in surrender.

The contestants all began to file into the large, cavernous space as the cheers come to a deafening roar. This was it. There’s no going back now. No running— just acceptance of the inevitable. Fuck, my stomach was alight with nerves. I felt like I might blow chunks at any moment.

The immediate temperature dip was a stark shock to my system as we passed into the tunnels.

Out in the sun, I felt as if I were being baked alive, but in the open mouth of the catacomb’s entrance, the temperature plummeted quickly while a musty smell hung about the air.

I couldn’t hear the sounds of the crowd anymore as we were escorted deeper into the arched tunnels.

Bones were stacked in intricate designs from floor to ceiling.

A red neon glow began to emanate making the bones appear ominous and evil.

There was an eerie swell of music that reverberated off the walls to a chilling crescendo.

I stayed close to the middle of the tunnel, not wanting to accidentally bump into the wall of bones, knowing full well that they belonged to real corpses.

A homage to those who walked these very same tunnels years before us.

One of the girls a few feet ahead of me had her head bowed in what looked like a prayer, her dirty blonde hair was a curtain around her face, but I could clearly hear her sniffling.

At least I wasn’t the only one scared as hell to be here.

The dark-haired guy was a few feet in front of her, walking with a swagger that looked like he owned the place.

Insufferable, I thought, rolling my eyes.

Arrogance like that would only get you killed in a place like this.

The tunnel came to an end, spilling out into a large two-story rotunda. But right before we passed through, a plaque of black and gold was stationed right above our heads with the words, ‘ C’est ici l'empire de la mort! ’ Etched into it.

Roughly translated the sign said, ‘Stop! This is the empire of the dead.’ A chilling reminder of whose domain we would be intruding upon.

But the contestants, myself included, continued to walk right past the sign and into the den of the gods.