After Scarlet’s lessons each day, she spent some time exploring Deianira. Death told her she could go anywhere that wasn’t locked, an easy enough rule to follow. Most rooms were empty, though she did find a few places of interest.

There was an armory, full of various protective gear and weapons. A room, perhaps once occupied by a tailor, was filled with fabric and finished clothing. Scarlet had scavenged a few pieces of clothing, some well-made shirts and sturdy pants for her wardrobe. Finally, something other than dresses to wear. She wondered who had made them. An emissary?

And, of course, there was the library that she had found on her first excursion. Meticulous records of the Magus War and other events in the history of Nymandia were kept there, as well as other reference books. Once Scarlet was proficient in navigating Deianira, she’d begun digging into the histories, thirsty for more knowledge of the gods and their emissaries.

There was a room full of dummies and targets that Death sometimes brought her to for training. But for the most part, they did their lessons outside, in a particularly dry part of the swamp. Today, Death led her through the castle to where they were to train and took a turn toward neither of those locations.

“I’m running a gauntlet today, aren’t I?” asked Scarlet.

“Observant, aren’t you?”

Scarlet hesitated to accept the potential compliment. She couldn’t decipher as either sarcastic or genuine.

Death glanced back at her. “Think you have it all figured out, now?”

Scarlet had learned that answering a question, when that question was asked by Death, was its own kind of test. “I think I know most of the castle.”

Death snorted. “How many levels does Deianira have?”

“Five.”

“Wrong. This is just like magic. There are things you don’t even know that you do not know. Don’t get too confident.”

Scarlet grimaced. Did Deianira have a basement? Or were there stairs up to another floor that she had yet to discover?

Death stopped in front of a door. “Give me a moment,” she said. “I have a couple adjustments to make before you come in.”

Scarlet sighed, and waited as the god slid into the room. Her wrong answers might have bought her a harder test. This would be the third gauntlet Death had sent her through. The past two hadn’t been particularly kind; she’d needed visits to Bronwen after both.

In the first, Death had set up a maze within a large room. Scarlet navigated it while Death ran along the tops of the temporary wooden walls, just above Scarlet’s head, shooting bolts of magic at her. There’d been little room to dodge, so it was a true test of her ability to spot-shield with magic, one of the main skills Death had been teaching her.

The flashes of magic that Scarlet let out to block the attacks lasted only a moment, so timing was a crucial element of spot-shielding. If she were attuned to Meyra instead of Kajiem, she’d be able to create long-lasting shields. There were moments she was definitely jealous of the ability to do so, though she wouldn’t trade her flames for anything.

Of course, along with trying to shield herself from being pelted by Death, she’d had to navigate through the maze. It didn’t help that there was a time limit. Scarlet wasn’t sure how Death had done it, but the god had rigged the floor to grow hotter over time. Scarlet, barefooted, had to get out of the maze before her feet were charred. By the time she escaped, she’d taken a couple hits from Death and her feet were blistered.

After all that, Death hadn’t seemed impressed.

For the second gauntlet, she was blindfolded. It was an obstacle course, with walls to climb and nets to crawl beneath. That too, had the additional complications of Death attacking her, though with slower moving energy orbs rather than the fast-moving bolts. It gave her time to sense the energy as it came at her, plus the injuries they caused were less acute. Not that it stopped her from gaining a new set of bruises and a twisted ankle when one knocked her off a wall she was almost at the top of.

At Death’s goading, she did manage to limp over the finish line of that gauntlet as well. Even with Bronwen’s healing, she could barely walk the next day. Bronwen would have had her rest for a few days, if it were up to him. But it wasn’t. Death’s training happened every day, without fail.

Scarlet resolved to escape the next gauntlet unscathed. Or at least, less scathed. No doubt this next test would be even more difficult, but Scarlet had been honing her skills. The desire to excel burned in hot as the flames that she summoned at will.

Death came out of the room. “Scarlet. This isn’t just a test, but a lesson. And it’s a lesson you’ll learn well if you want to keep living.”

Sure, that’s not ominous at all.

Death gestured for her to go through the door. Scarlet slipped by the god into the room, which was pitch black. Before she could ask Death what her goal was today, the door between them slammed shut.

Guess I’m figuring out this one on my own.

She let her magical senses unfurl through the room, reaching for anything that might give her a clue about what to do. Immediately, something felt off, though she couldn’t pinpoint what it was.

She summoned a flame into her palm. The fire flared up bright, then dampened substantially. Feeding more energy to the fire only made it incrementally larger again. Scarlet frowned. Something was dampening her magic.

Darkness pressed in, it felt almost tangible as she took a few tentative steps. The light of her flame barely cut through, she could only see a couple feet in front of herself. Then, she stepped through something she couldn’t see, felt. A screen of magic, biting each inch of her skin that came in contact with it. On the other side, she collapsed.

She’d been drained. Her flame was extinguished and she was panting like she’d just finished an intense training drill. The darkness was absolute. She drew herself up, trying to regain her composure. Scarlet tried to call another flame to her hand, but the magic that flowed within her was a stream run dry. All she could muster was a tiny, candle-sized flame.

“Death?” Scarlet called out, only to find that she couldn’t hear her own voice. She stood, and stomped down hard with her boot. That resulted in no sound either. In her resulting panic, she lost hold of her pinprick flame, leaving her in total darkness once more.

Death had managed to take away her sight as well as her hearing. She could barely sense anything with her magic in this state, either. It took a conscious effort to keep her breathing steady.

So what was this, then—a mental test? Or was Death about to start firing energy bolts at her?

You think you’re in control, Scarlet. The words pulsated from her emissary bond, Death’s words resounding directly into her mind. But you’re not.

Scarlet clenched her jaw and scanned around the darkness for any hint of an attack coming toward her.

Even now. I’ve ripped away your senses and your powers, and you’re still looking for a fight?

I’m not going to give up, Scarlet sent back to Death through her bond.

Sometimes giving up is the answer. You barely know how to hold control of your magic at the best of times. Can’t you feel it, always a hair away from slipping out of your grasp?

She did feel it. Death often chided Scarlet for nearly losing hold of her flames, and always giving them too much energy instead of modulating her flow of power.

You think you know more than you do. You get ahead of yourself. And you push against our bond, Scarlet. You hate the power I hold over you, I can feel your resistance. But you must understand: you are one of my tools, now. You have to accept that.

I’m a person, not a tool.

One doesn’t negate the other. You took the emissary pact in exchange for your life. And now, you need to prove you can hold up to your end of the bargain.

The bond Scarlet could sense between her and Death widened, and suddenly she could feel a well of power on the other end. Death’s energy, offered up to her.

Go on, Death urged. Draw on my power. You’re going to need it.

The energy on the other end of the bond was immense. It was tempting. But Scarlet hesitated to obey. Then, something hit her hard from behind. She stumbled forward, but managed to keep her footing. Her lower back stun where the magic bolt had made contact.

It’s in your best interests to obey me. Do I need to compel you?

Scarlet’s hands shook. Ever since the god had used their bond to force her to stand in the library, she’d fought against the idea that even the simplest of her actions could be controlled by Death. Her body moving against her will felt wrong. She thought that when she learned magic, she would finally be free.

She was a mage, and yet, ultimately still powerless.

You want to keep living, don’t you? Death’s voice echoed within the confines of Scarlet’s mind.

Scarlet disregarded the question; instead she braced herself, hoping to sense the next bolt before it hit her.

She didn’t. The magic collided with the back of her thigh, and she staggered forward.

So that’s how it is? Then get down.

Scarlet found herself laying on the floor, face down, before she even processed Death’s words.

Do you think you’ll survive, when he comes for you next?

Death didn’t have to say his name. The blact starburst scar on Scarlet’s back would never let her forget him.

Riordan.

He wants what you want, Death continued. Power. Control. Except, unlike you, he has it.

The floor was cold and hard on her forehead. Scarlet couldn’t move an inch.

He doesn’t just have it. He’s the god of it. And he hates everyone that seeks power for themselves. Why do you think he kills all the mages in his territory?

All the heat from Scarlet’s body seemed to sink into the stone floor. She was left frozen but unable to shiver.

You think I’m going to control you. Use you. And you’re right. It’s why Kiera kept you from me for so long. But in return, I can give you one of the things you want.

In sharp contrast to her body of ice, Scarlet felt something hot press on her. Through the emissary bond poured a searing energy, no longer waiting for her to take it. Like lava through her veins, the power surged.

Scarlet’s body was like fire. She was awake for the first time.

As fast as she’d gone down, she was back on her feet. The room was still shrouded in impenetrable darkness, but her senses were extended. Another bolt was coming from behind, but she sidestepped it.

Death’s orders came. They weren’t compulsions, but Scarlet felt herself following them regardless. Turn left. Spot-shield now. Go forward. Faster. Two more steps. Stop, stop. Use your fire now, it will be enough to disable part of the system.

Scarlet released a blast of flames. It was effortless. The resulting inferno bloomed large, and she could feel it devouring a magic field before her. It must be like what she had stumbled through earlier.

Don’t let those flames get away from you. Okay. Good.

As the field gave away, Scarlet’s ears popped. Suddenly, she could hear her own labored breath.

Bolts incoming, from the right. Spot-shield now…. and… now.

Following Death’s directions, Scarlet navigated through the room, avoiding attacks and taking down traps that Death had somehow set up to fire magic bolts at her. Lastly, she disabled one more energy field. Once that had dissipated, the darkness felt less intense. She summoned a flame into her hand, and finally it lit the room.

Death stood on the other side of the room, in front of the door. Her arms were crossed, and the expression on her face seemed hard and soft all at once. After giving Scarlet a curt nod, she exited.

As Scarlet’s blood cooled and the euphoria of wielding Death’s strength faded, she wondered if this was a victory or a defeat.