by Jenna Moreci
Nothing.
The canvas in front of Her was blank, not a single mark to behold.
“Oh, I don’t know, Tobias, I think this picture is quite emotive.” She took Her chin in Her hand. “It really expresses the vast emptiness of the heart in peril, the bleak void that is the human experience, or perhaps the blankness of the unknown.”
“Is that right?” he said. “Well then, it appears my job is done.”
“Why haven’t you drawn something?”
“I just… I can’t think of anything.”
“Nothing?”
“Nothing. My mind is a bleak void, as you would put it.” He frowned. “I haven’t created anything in two years. I’m afraid I’ve lost it.”
“Oh, shut up. You haven’t lost it.”
“How would you know?”
“I just know. I’m very intuitive, and I know lots of things.” She studied the canvas, squinting. “You just need some inspiration. Or a muse. Or a good kick in the ass to get you going.”
“I need help,” he said. “Maybe a drink. But mostly help.”
“Well, I haven’t done anything artistic since I was a child, which means I’m more than qualified to give you some unsolicited advice on the matter, yes?”
“Consider it solicited. I welcome your pearls of wisdom.”
“All right then.” Leila’s mind pored over every art history lesson She’d ever encountered. “Art is emotion—the visual representation of our deepest thoughts and desires. It should come from within—a place of truth and authenticity, yes?”
“Spoken like a real artist.”
“Is that so? Then I’ll keep going. I think you just need to tap into your emotions. Good ones, preferably, since this is for Cosima and all.” She came in closer. “Dig deep. Find that spark to light your creativity. Tell me, what did you feel when you met Her?”
“Nothing.”
“Oh. Well, that won’t do. What if you cleared your head? Allowed yourself a moment of meditation? Perhaps it’ll unlock the confines of that brain of yours.”
Tobias scoffed, “Yes, because our current conditions are ideal for meditation.”
Leila gnawed at Her lip. She was out of tricks, another blank canvas to match the one beside Her. “I have an idea,” She lied. “It’s an exercise—helps you center yourself, reminds you of your instincts. I’m sure we can use it to rouse some inspiration. Come on, I’ll show you.”
She was already circling him before he could object, resting Her hands against his back. Hard. Firm. Standing on Her toes, She poked Her head over his shoulder. “God, you’re tall.”
“I’m actually not that tall, you’re just quite short—”
“Quiet, you. We’re focusing.” She grabbed hold of his arms—also hard and firm. “Relax yourself.”
“I am relaxed,” he scoffed.
“No, you’re not.”
“How would you know if I’m not relaxed?”
“Your muscles,” She said, mouth dry. “They’re tense.”
“Perhaps that’s just how my muscles are.”
She sighed. “Just do as I say.”
“You know, it’s that exact tone that’ll make a man far from relaxed—”
“Tobias.”
“I’m only joking.” His arms went loose. “Better?”
“Better. Now close your eyes.” She leaned in close, waiting for slow-moving seconds. “Are your eyes closed?”
“Of course they’re closed. Can’t you see that they’re closed?”
“I was looking at the canvas.”
“Well, they’re closed.”
“All right then. Take a deep breath. Still your mind. Focus on nothing but the sound of my voice.” Her voice lowered to a whisper. “Right now, we’re stimulating your guiding light. We’re inviting your inspiration to reveal itself. To come to you. Now tell me, what do you see?”
Bullshit, every last word, but She was touching him, and that made it worth it. Tobias’s shoulders rose with a deep inhale, and She held Her breath.
“I see…the backs of my eyelids.”
Leila’s hands dropped. “Tobias.”
“I see black. I see nothing but darkness, because my damn eyes are closed.”
She abandoned Her spot behind him, cowering beneath his laughter. “You’re impossible. I’m leaving.”
“Leila, wait—”
“No, no, you’re clearly doing well enough on your own.”
“No, wait, please.” He took Her wrist, halting Her. “Do it again—what you just did. I’ll be good this time.”
His grin threatened to melt Her, as did his touch. “You’re humoring me.”
“I’m not.”
Her insides danced, but She glared at him anyway, hoping Her scorn was convincing. “Fine.” She took Her place behind him. “All right then. Relax yourself.”
“Done.”
“Close your eyes.”
“Done.”
“Take a deep breath.”
His shoulders rose and sank, and She hopped up to Her toes. “Center yourself. Still your mind. Let the inspiration come to you. Now, tell me…what do you see?”
The quiet between them fueled Her anxious heartbeat, sending it pulsing through Her flesh, strong enough to move Her.
“Tobias? Are you listening?”
He flinched. “Apologies. I am. I promise.” His voice softened. “Say it again.”
“What do you see?”
Nothing—She was certain of it, but She waited regardless, relishing each small wonder: his warm skin beneath Her palms, his cheek against Hers. Joys that were doomed to end.
“Eyes.”
His voice jolted Her. “Really? You see eyes? So it worked?” She hurried around him, met by a disarming smile.
“It worked,” he said.
“Oh wow, I’m rather excited.” She swatted his arm. “Well, don’t just stand there. Get to work. Create a masterpiece.”
“You give me too much credit.”
“I do no such thing. I have faith in you.” She stepped aside, gesturing toward his canvas. “Go on then. I’ll let you get to it.”
His smile widened, then slipped away.
“Is something wrong?” She said.
He raised his blackened hands. “Apologies. I just realized I probably look rather silly.”
Rolling Her eyes, Leila slid Her palms down the labyrinth wall, covering Her fingers in ash. She wiped the mess across Her cheeks like rose tint, then dotted Her nose. “Now we both look silly.”
“You’re going to walk around the sanctuary like that?” Tobias chuckled.
“Why shouldn’t I? No one here notices me anyhow.”
“That’s not true. I notice you.”
His words left Her frozen, but Her face burned hot. Quickly, She headed off.
“Leila,” he called out.
She spun around, meeting his gaze.
“Thank you,” he said.
A warm caress slinked through Her, unwinding each knot in Her body. “Draw something beautiful. I know you will.”
She continued on Her way, determined not to look back, fearing Her grin might reveal Her thoughts. I notice you. His words repeated in Her mind, the calm intensity of his voice, the smile in his eyes.
The other men swarmed Her, clutching their wounds, and She soaked them in perfume with a level of pep even She didn’t recognize. All the while Her gaze drifted to Tobias, who madly scribbled across his canvas, surely creating a work of art worthy of the gallery. Moving from man to man, She glanced between bloody gashes, Tobias, soggy bandages, Tobias, sticky vials—
Tobias was staring at Her. Do something. She stuck out Her tongue, hoping to unleash that infectious laugh. A smile flickered across his lips, but it was gone in an instant, and he returned to his scribbling.
Deflated, She finished Her work. Dragging Pippa from the edge of the fire pit, She made Her way to the stairwell, eyeing the labyrinth over Her shoulder. Maybe I should say goodbye. But Tobias was fiercel
y focused, and She thought better of it. They had wasted enough of the day in the sanctuary.
Her last trip. This time, She meant it.
The sisters retired to their chambers, where Leila collapsed onto Her bed, achy and worn. Another day gone and no progress, but then She recalled Tobias’s stare from across the sanctuary, and She allowed Herself a slow, secret grin.
The door swung open, and Her bed bounced as Delphi sat at Her side. “How was the sanctuary?”
“What makes you think I was in the sanctuary?”
Delphi gestured toward Leila’s face. The ash. “Oh, hell…” Leila plucked a mirror from Her bedside drawer and dragged Her cloak across Her cheeks, smearing the blackness into grey streaks.
“How’s Tobias?”
“Why are you always talking about him? I swear, you’re obsessed.”
Cosima floated into the chamber, her breasts hoisted high. “There She is. I haven’t seen our little Leila all day.” She wrinkled her nose. “You’re a mess.”
“I noticed.” Leila dug Her cloak into Her face.
“Oh, stop that, You’ll make it worse.” Cosima hurried to Leila’s desk, grabbing a pitcher of water and a rag. “Here.”
Taking a seat at Leila’s side, Cosima gently blotted Her cheeks. Leila watched her expectantly, waiting for words that never came. “Well, go on then,” She said.
“Go on? About what?”
“Aren’t you going to tell us about your reward? With the Beasts?”
Cosima dropped her rag, befuddled.
“What reward?”
10
The Gift
“They were here,” Talos said. “Convening with Brontes. Being treated by Diccus.”
Leila slumped in Her seat, eyes locked on the bars of the dungeon cell. Talos sat at Her side on his rickety bench, waiting for a response. Of course there was no reward.
She spun toward him. “Did they mention Me? I mean, not Me Me. Did they mention a healer? Because in Brontes’s mind there is no such woman.”
“There was no mention of a healer.”
“Are you sure? Because I hurt Antaeus. I stabbed him in the foot.”
“A man like Antaeus would never admit to being injured by a woman.”
Exhaling, Leila rested Her chin in Her hands. “So, that’s it? They just…convened?”
“They discussed the terms of their arrangement. They were paid half at the start. All three are expected to make it to the Culmination. Brontes will release two, then crown the final man as Champion.”
“Horse shit,” Leila said. “He’ll let them battle it out and crown the last man standing. You know he only hired three of them to hedge his bets.”
“After You’re killed, Brontes will provide safe passage from the realm. Tell Your people the assassin fled. Give him asylum in the Outlands.”
“Horse shit again. He’ll torture him publicly.”
“You know Your father well.”
Leila picked at Her dress. “Anything else?”
“They discussed their plans for You. Different means of…disposal.”
Her insides clenched. “You’re sure Brontes doesn’t know about Me? No one described The Savior’s red hair, or her enormous breasts?”
“He doesn’t know. Not yet.”
Leila raised an eyebrow. “Do I sense a tone?”
“Your ruse becomes more dangerous each time You venture into the labyrinth. Your intentions are sound. But Your methods are…”
“Careless?”
“Brontes will meet with them again. It is only a matter of time before You are discovered. Especially with Your frequent trips underground.”
Leila fidgeted. “I got…distracted. Momentarily. It won’t happen again.” She sat tall. “It was just one day of rest. I’m allowed that, aren’t I?”
The dungeon went silent save for the scuttling of a mouse. Talos remained stoic at Leila’s side, and Her eyes bore through him, shrinking into a glare.
“Is there something else, Your Holiness?” he said.
“I heard about the challenge.”
“Apologies. I did what I must for You.”
“I know.” She frowned. “But did you have to carve into his leg so?”
He furrowed his brow. “Your Holiness, with all due respect, You said You didn’t care for the men. You thought them all fools.”
“I still do! Nothing’s changed, not remotely.” She folded Her arms. “Couldn’t you have at least inflicted more pain on My assassins?”
“It wouldn’t have made a difference. They weren’t being monitored. There was no way for them to fail.”
She sighed. “Brontes rigged the challenge. I suppose that’s to be expected.”
A war waged inside Her, urging Her to scream. Instead She was a statue, unmoving while Her mind ran amuck.
“Little Light…”
Talos’s soft voice soothed Her inner torment, a well-timed comfort. “I have very specific questions about My mother this time,” She said. “Is that all right?”
“Yes, Little Light.”
“Did you touch Her?” Talos wavered, and Leila quickly added, “No, no, not like that, I mean… Did you ever hold Her hand? Touch Her arm in passing?”
“I held Her hand once. Kissed it gently.”
“How did it feel?”
“Like an honor and a privilege.”
Her gaze drifted, Her thoughts traveling with it. “Did you ever catch Her staring at you from across the room? What did you think it meant?”
“I never caught Her staring. But if I had, I would’ve thought that perhaps She was fond of me. As I had found myself staring at Her many times. And I was very fond of Her.”
Joy filled Her chest, warm and vibrant. She breathed it in, then exhaled, pulling Herself back to reality. “I’m late for the challenge. I have to go.”
His shackle jangled, twisting Her stomach into a knot. “I am forever indebted to you,” She whispered.
A kiss to his temple, and She burst into light. The grey walls of the labyrinth viewing room surrounded Her, and Her sisters appeared in the distance. Pippa was twirling in circles, while Cosima and Delphi paced.
Cosima’s eyes widened. “Where have You been? The presenting of the gifts was to start ages ago.”
“Apologies, I was working.”
“Leila.” Delphi threw a cloak around Her shoulders. “We need to talk.”
“It’ll have to wait.”
“We need to talk now—”
Romulus trudged into the room, and upon seeing Leila, his face sank into a scowl. “Your Holiness, how kind of You to finally arrive.”
“I was retrieving information from a source—one far more valuable than you.”
He gave Her a critical once-over. “I’ll bring in the first competitor. They’ve been waiting for some time. Such delays will greatly disappoint Your father.”
“Oh, good. You know how much I love disappointing him.”
Romulus left without another word, and Leila snorted. “What an ass.”
Delphi grabbed Her hands. “I have good news, and I have bad news.”
“Now is hardly the time.” Cosima marched up beside them. “The men are on their way, and I’m not at all prepared.”
“What is there to possibly prepare for?” Delphi scoffed.
“Have you forgotten? I’m The Savior.” Cosima flicked her wrist at Leila. “You’ve been off gallivanting, while I’ve been here, waiting for Your instruction.”
“They’re just giving you gifts,” Leila said. “That’s all.”
“Well, do I get to keep them?”
Footsteps echoed through the portal. “Shh.” Leila took a seat in one of the onyx thrones. “They’re coming. Look presentable.”
Pippa and Cosima did as instructed, while Delphi remained rooted to her spot, eyes trained on Leila. “I’m going to need You to remain calm.”
Cosima gestured to the empty throne. “Will you sit down?”
“Will you stop interrup
ting me?” Delphi snapped.
Romulus emerged with a man at his side. Orion dwarfed the Senator in height and build, his rugged appearance contrasting the white fluff in his hands.
Romulus’s nostrils flared. “Apologies. It appears the women aren’t yet settled.”
Delphi glanced between him, the Hunter, and Leila, her eyes wide. She begrudgingly took a seat.
“Good,” Romulus said. “Hunter, it’s time for you to present your gift. Please, show us what you’ve prepared.”
One by one, the men filed into the room with a gift for Cosima—a fur muff from Orion, a rose from Kaleo, a rather strange interpretive dance from Bjorne. Leila tolerated the formalities, a nuisance delaying more important ventures. Brontes’s dealings were still underway, and there were moves to be made.
“Leila,” Delphi whispered.
Caesar strutted from the room, pleased with his display, while Delphi stared a hole through Leila as She had for the entire proceedings. “What?” Leila said.
“There are matters to discuss.” Delphi eyed Cosima sidelong. “Privately.”
“We’re in the middle of a challenge.”
“Not to mention requesting privacy in the presence of others is in extremely poor taste,” Cosima said.
Delphi sighed. “This can’t wait.”
“Then by all means, share it with the room. Let’s all hear it.”
“I swear, Cosima, one more word—”
“Ladies, the challenge.” Leila’s voice cracked. “We’ll talk later.”
Delphi growled. “No one is listening to me!”
“I’m listening to you.” Pippa smiled, taking her hand.
Romulus reappeared with another man, and Leila fought back a grin.
Tobias.
Greyish-green fanned from his pores. Nerves. How endearing. Even the greats doubt themselves.
“Artist, it’s time for you to present your gift,” Romulus said. “Please, show us what you’ve prepared.”
Excitement flickered through Leila like starlight. She took Tobias in fully, his drawn face, his clenched hands.
Empty.
Where are his drawings?
“Apologies. It is with great humility and regret that I inform You…I was unable to complete the challenge.” Tobias took in a breath. “I have nothing for You.”