* * *
I must have dozed off at some point because the next thing I knew Molly was shaking my shoulder saying we were about to land. The sleepless night and days of being on edge had caught up with me. My eyes felt gritty, and my brain was in a fog. Yawning, I moved my chair upright and stretched. My fingers brushed my hip by habit, forgetting that my phone was back in my condo. Part of our agreement had been no electronic devices. It felt like my lifeline to the real world had been taken away.
Molly sat in the seat across from me, deep in concentration. A square walnut table had been folded out from the cabin wall, and she was focused on the screen of a sleek black laptop. Apparently, the no electronic devices rules only applied to contestants. At some point, she had changed clothes. The tailored suit had been replaced by a V-neck navy T-shirt that hung loosely on her thin frame. She wore a pair of ripped jeans with a large black skull-and-crossbones on the shin. Her hair was spiked up in the back, and a diamond stud pierced her nose.
She must have felt me staring because her head jerked up in my direction. She smiled at me warmly, seeming to have forgotten whatever issues she had with the flirty captain that had made her so abrupt earlier. Curiosity about the history between those two tempted me to ask questions. The only problem with asking personal questions was that people expected to be able to ask their own in return. Generally, the first question people asked was about your family. That was a topic I would rather avoid.
“Glad you’re awake, Sleeping Beauty. Look out your window,” Molly directed. Then she immediately turned her attention back to her computer and started hammering away at the keyboard.
Below us stretched a large, roughly triangular island. It was outlined in the aqua blue of the shallows that transitioned into the deep blue ocean as far as the eye could see. Large folds of mountain ridges covered in dense forests came into view as we started our descent. As we got closer, I could occasionally make out sandy beaches at the mountain bases. We turned to follow the shoreline, and the dramatic peaks gave way to lush green rolling valleys stretching toward the interior of the island. The plane banked again, and another side of the island revealed rocky beaches pounded by crystalline blue waves.
The place was breathtaking. These people had to have some serious money to own an island like this. My eyes strained to take in every detail. I could almost feel the sand between my toes already. The only things I didn’t see were signs of people. There wasn’t anyone sunbathing, swimming, or snorkeling. In fact, there wasn’t even a sign of buildings, roads, or even a runway.
Abruptly Molly stood and reached across me to slide the window shade down with a snap. “That’s your peek. Beautiful, isn’t it?”
I narrowed my eyes at her. “Yes, it is. Was the sneak-peek part of the Games? Was I supposed to memorize what I saw?”
“The Games started the minute I picked you up. The real fun begins with the competitions, though.” She gave me that mischievous smile I was coming to associate with her. “The Paldimori Games happen every year without fail. Six contestants are chosen. Then six competitions are selected and hosted by one of the Kyrion.”
“The winner of all six competitions gets the grand prize?”
“Nope,” Molly said, giving the “p” a hard sound to make it pop. “The majority winner. Whoever wins the most competitions out of the six. Though every winner of a training session or single competition also gets a prize. The big prize money is only given out after all six competitions are played.”
“Who owns the island? Is Paldimori a company or something? And, uh, where’s the runway?”
“Can’t give away all the secrets this early in the Games, Lia,” Molly teased. “What fun would that be?”
I groaned. “Fine. Keep your secrets . . . for now.”
“This is going to be fun.” Molly rubbed her hands together in anticipation. “Better fasten your seatbelt. The captain likes his landings a little bumpy.”
No sooner had she finished her sentence than the plane plummeted sharply downward. I gasped as the sudden descent threw me back into my seat. My clumsy fingers fumbled for the seatbelt. Molly casually took her time stowing her things away. Then she clicked her seatbelt and leaned her head back against the headrest with a sigh as if this were just another day at the office. My fingers gripped the arms of the seat until they went numb as the nosedive continued.
Please god, don’t let us end up in a fiery heap on the shores of that beautiful island.
Just when I thought the bagel I’d had for lunch was going to make a reappearance, the tires touched down. The plane shuddered and shook as it tried to slow its momentum. My heart was pounding so hard I thought I might have a heart attack. Beside me, Molly yawned and shifted farther down into her seat as if she was settling in for a nap. My teeth were gritted to keep them from rattling together like castanets as we finally came to a jarring halt.
“See? Fun, right?” Molly asked as she gathered her things and moved toward the cockpit.
“Yeah, super fun.” Slowly I pried my fingers from the chair. Where had Captain Matthews learned to fly—video games?
The sight that greeted me as I exited the plane looked like a vast underground bunker. The air smelled of jet fumes and the faint mustiness of a cave. My skin prickled in the cold air. Rough-hewn rock walls arched over our heads several stories high with large rectangles of bright lights spaced every couple of feet. A long runway stretched out in the distance outlined in red glowing lines and leading to two-walled airplane “hangars” on either side. Each of the six hangers had a symbol matching those on the invitation card.
“Did we just land inside a cave?”
“Something like that.” Molly gave me a secretive smile. “C’mon. This is the boring part. Wait ’till you see your room.”
Molly took off toward a set of polished metal double doors along the back wall. The echo of our shoes and my rolling luggage on the concrete followed us as we walked. She scanned her hand on a keypad beside the doors and they opened with a whoosh. Motion sensor lights winked on overhead as we made our way down a long white hall until we finally came to an elevator. Molly took a key from her jeans pocket and inserted it next to the Up button. The doors opened immediately, and she waved me forward. The oval elevator was large enough to fit a car inside. The walls were paneled in mahogany, and the ceiling looked like an evening sky complete with moving clouds.
“The sky outside is projected onto the ceilings. But you can change the setting in your rooms to whatever you want,” Molly explained after pushing a button on the panel. All of the floors seemed to be represented by what looked like Greek numerals, and there were a ton of them.
“This button will take you to your floor.” Molly pointed at one. Then she showed me several other buttons for common areas that I might want to visit. The elevator ascended quickly and came to a smooth stop. The doors opened to reveal beige and gold-swirled marble tiles gleaming in the artificial evening sunset. The red symbol of an arrow with wings took up most of the floor front and center of the elevator doors. Beyond that, a crescent-shaped sunken living room faced a wall of windows. The walls were curved and appeared to be made from smooth polygonal stones. There were other areas, but my attention was completely captured by the view dead ahead.
Dropping my luggage by the elevator, I walked toward the wall of windows. My peripheral vision picked up details such as the couches built into the ledge of the sunken living room that were padded with gold-colored cushions, the round bronze fire pit in the center of the area, and the mosaics on the floor. Still, the wall of glass in front of me beckoned. Beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows lay a breathtaking view of the island.
“This is the tallest mountain on the island, called Titan. Yep, we’re inside the mountain.” Molly stepped up to peer over my shoulder. “Welcome to Sotirìa.”
8
Left to my own devices for a while, I spent time exploring the floor that was to be mine during my stay. My inner artist was in heaven with all of
the artwork and architecture. Everywhere I looked there was something to be examined. Molly had explained that each contestant had their own floor, each roughly three thousand square feet. One of the six Kyrion owned each level, and it was decorated according to their tastes. And their tastes appeared to be lavish. Guess if you could afford to build a skyscraper complete with an airplane runway inside a mountain, luxury accommodation for your guests wasn’t a big deal. My family had been well-off by average standards, but this was a whole other level of extravagance.
Molly disappeared into one of the four bedrooms after giving me a quick rundown on our agenda for the rest of the night. Dinner was to be served in the main contestant dining hall where the guides would give us ground rules. Following dinner, everyone would go to what Molly called the “big-ass room in the sky” to meet the Kyrion. Whatever that meant. She was stubbornly tight-lipped with the information.
At a quarter ’til eight, Molly emerged from her room, and I turned in my seat on the lip of the fire pit to greet her. My greeting never made it out of my mouth. Molly had looked like a chauffeur when we first met. Then she had seemed like the quintessential college student on the airplane. Now an ethereal goddess was walking toward me.
Just who is Molly West?
She wore a floor-length satin dress in a smoky gray. The dress might have been called plain except for the display of one creamy shoulder and the low neckline that showed the top curves of her small breasts. Pinned to the opposite shoulder was a midnight black himation-style cloak trimmed in a red pattern of the flying arrow symbol that kept showing up. The cloak fell over her left arm like a long sleeve then dipped down to drape across her waist and circle around her opposite hip. Her hair had been sleeked down around her face, and the rest pulled back by a double headband of rubies. She was wearing makeup for the first time since I had met her. There were little red jewels at the corner of her dramatic cat eyes, and her lips were painted blood red. A silver torque necklace circled her slender throat and came to rest on her collarbones in an arrowhead shape inlaid with a single large ruby. A matching band circled her right bicep.
“Wow! Did I miss the memo about formal wear?”
Molly snorted. “Nah, the Kyrion just love their traditions. These formal shindigs are the only time I’ll ever be caught in a dress. Damn mummy wrap!” She tugged uselessly at the low neckline then adjusted the arrow brooch holding the cloak on her shoulder.
I laughed, appreciating that there was another woman in the world that hated dresses as much as I did. “You look amazing, but I know the feeling. I can’t wait to get out of this skirt and into my pj’s.”
“Thanks! Yuck, though,” Molly said with a shudder. “Let’s get this over with before I throw the damn thing in the fire.”
The back of the cloak was revealed as she turned toward the elevator. A large flying arrow symbol in red blazed like fire from about knee height.
What’s with all the symbols? It was a question Molly had yet to answer.
She explained on our way down that the main dining hall divided the contestant floors: three on lower levels below the hall and three on higher levels above it. My floor was the first of the higher-level contestants’ floors, situated directly above the dining hall. Molly also informed me that the Kyrion usually ate on their own floors or in the more formal dining hall in their section of the building located toward the top of the tower above the contestants’ levels.
We stepped off the elevator into a spacious hall with a tiled ceiling of lighted arches connecting colonnades on either side of the room. Against the far wall, stone steps led to a semicircular platform with a chandelier overhead. A long wooden table—inlaid with mosaic and big enough to seat an entire team of broad-shouldered football players with room to spare—sat in the center of the hall. Wooden chairs—their high backs carved with the same symbols as on the guides’ clothing—were placed far apart, six per side. The center of the table was crammed with enough food to feed a small country. Carafes of coffee and chilled bottles of wine sat before every place setting. At either end of the table, there were small barrels of what I soon found out were bourbon and more wine.
A man and woman stood off to the side of the table in an intense conversation. Molly and I came up next to them just as the woman sternly told the man to take care of something. Then she turned her back on him in clear dismissal. The woman had on a dress exactly like Molly’s, except her symbol was a green tree in full bloom. Emerald jewels twinkled at the corner of her eyes and in her headband and necklace. She looked to be in her fifties from the lines that appeared around her kind brown eyes as she smiled warmly at Molly. She opened her arms invitingly.
“Hello, Molly, dear. It’s good to see you.”
Molly immediately stepped in to give her a hug. “Good to see you too, Den Mother. How you doing?”
The woman patted her cheek in clear affection. “Oh, you know me. Never a dull moment with this rowdy bunch. Now, why don’t you introduce me to your friend before she thinks no one around here has any manners.”
“Wouldn’t want to give her false hope.” Molly grinned at me. “This is Jillian Davies, my Potential. Jillian, meet Grace Paxton—Den Mother.”
“More like a bloody drill sergeant,” mumbled the lanky man behind Grace as I stepped forward to shake her hand. Grace pulled me into a hug instead. Her auburn bob struck through with gray tickled my cheek as I bent down slightly to accommodate her short frame. She smelled like cherry pie. Molly’s title for her made sense: everything about this woman said motherly.
“Welcome, dear. You can call me Grace. Never mind either one of these scamps. Molly is sweet but an incurable mischief-maker. And the disrespectful one behind me is Brant Isley, our resident grouch.”
The Grouch stood in a wide stance with his arms crossed, scowling at us. He had on a variation of what the women were wearing: gray dress pants, a gray dress shirt, and a black vest. Similar to the women’s cloaks, his vest was trimmed in symbols—in his case, white crescent moons. A matching torque necklace in a thicker, more masculine design hung around his neck. The moon dangling in the opening of his shirt contained a large opal. His dishwater-blond hair was longer on top and combed to one side. His glacial blue eyes bored into me as Grace released me, and I stepped back. With a look of disgust, he turned and headed toward the table.
“Is it me or has he gotten worse? Must be IMS,” Molly snapped.
“IMS?” I asked.
“Yep, the male version of PMS.” Molly replied. “Irritable Male Syndrome. Although that seems to be Brant’s constant state.”
“Dear, try not to poke at him unless you want him to lock you in a closet again.” Grace smiled at Molly like she and the Grouch were a couple of rambunctious kids.
Molly huffed. “Please, I had that lock picked in two seconds. It was the catapult that I didn’t expect.”
Grace clicked her tongue. “Full of poison ivy, wasn’t it? I don’t think I have ever seen someone so miserable. Covered head to toe in that rash and not able to do a thing but scratch. That boy is lucky he left the island before I got hold of him.”
I looked at them in horror. A catapult of poison ivy? What the hell have I gotten myself into? Note to self: Keep your distance from Brant the Grouch.
“These kids are a handful, I tell you,” Grace chuckled. “Oh, before I forget, Cadence will be here tomorrow, Molly. She would like to spend some time with you.”
“Sounds good. But why is she coming to the Games?” Molly had narrowed her eyes.
“Dear, I keep telling you. I’m getting old. I’ve been coming to the Games since I was a young girl. It’s time for the next generation to take over.” Grace smiled a little sadly. “This will be my last Games.”
“Right.” Molly snorted. “You say that every year. Then you decide you’re too young to retire. You’ll be here ordering people around until you’re ninety.”
“This is it for me, dear. Cadence has been in training for years. She’s ready, and so am I.
Oh, look, here come the others,” Grace said, quickly changing the subject. Molly looked like she wasn’t going to let it drop, but Grace didn’t give her a chance as she waved for the other guides and contestants to join us.
A woman and two men dressed in the same uniforms as Molly, Grace and Brant brought the total to six guides. The last guide stood out from the rest. He had skipped the shirt and wore only the vest, showing off muscles covered in tattoos from his neck down. The other man was a dark-skinned giant who towered over everyone and marched forward with military precision. The woman was slightly shorter than me with black hair streaked with a smoky purple color that was pulled back in braids that hung to the middle of her back. They were all in peak physical condition and gorgeous to boot.
The contestants were easy to spot in their regular clothes. There was a tall Asian woman in a pants suit and severe bun whose face was carefully blank. A blonde woman, talking animatedly, had on a V-neck halter dress that barely covered her obviously enhanced breasts. She jiggled dangerously as she gestured around the room. More than one set of male eyes were fixated on her chest as if they were waiting for the opportunity to lunge in and assist should she have a wardrobe malfunction.
The remaining three men I mentally labeled the Cowboy, the Geek, and the Lothario. Scanning the group again, I noted how beautiful they all were. The application hadn’t listed physical requirements, but I was feeling like the ugly duckling.
My eyes connected with a pair of baby blues staring right at me. A blush heated my cheeks at getting caught sizing everyone up. The Cowboy curled up one corner of his lips in a commiserating smile. He had a well-trimmed beard and ginger hair cropped closely to his head. His blue T-shirt hugged his muscular chest, and well-worn jeans outlined strong thighs. He tipped his white cowboy hat in my direction. My blush deepened as I nodded back to him. He started to walk toward me, but the giant dark-skinned guide asked us all to take a seat.
Paldimori Gods Rising Box Set Page 7