My panicked breathing was the only sound that filled this dark, empty place. It smelled of earth and stone, and I was damp with sweat. I called again, but only silence answered.

  How long had I been stuck underground? It’d probably been a few minutes, but it felt like an hour.

  Cherub can only grant me a miracle tomorrow, but how do I know when tomorrow comes? Will I even survive long enough? There might not be enough air in here, and I’ll suffocate before I have a chance to get out.

  Again, I tried to claw at the ceiling, and again, my fingertips failed to touch anything. I tried to climb, but the earth was too soft for me to get a proper grip. I tried to jump, only to hurt my ankle when I fell back down.

  Keep calm, Alicia. Everyone saw me fall, and I’m still holding the feather. They won’t leave me in here, will they?

  I focused on my breath until I was no longer panting. Yet, my blood beat at my temples at an alarming rate. I didn’t want to die. Not now, not this way. I’d already died once, but I hadn’t had time to panic before the derelict white van hit me. This time, death would be slow and painful.

  My thoughts swirled in my brain, again and again. My fingers closed on my two pendants. What would the king’s suite tell Catalin? What of my promise to come back?

  Dirt fell on my head. This is it. The place is collapsing on me.

  Then a ray of light pierced the darkness, revealing a rather disappointing pit around me, not unlike one I’d dig to plant a shrub. No hidden passage to unspeakable depths, no unholy carving of a long-forgotten deity. Just dirt.

  “There she is!” shouted someone.

  The earth above me parted, magically pushed aside by two arms in an ornate purple robe. The first face I saw, blinded by the sunlight, was Senior Magus Malin with her silver bob. She laid down on the ground and reached out to me. There was a glowing symbol on her hand. I read it quickly: it was a spell to enhance her physical strength.

  “Come quick, Lady Al!”

  I grasped her hand with gratitude, and she helped me up, back to the world of the living, among worried players, with an equally worried public staring at us from the stands. Gurvan and Jilu were standing at the edge of the field, talking to the archbishop and the priest who served as referee. I blinked.

  “Thank you, Lady Malin. What happened?”

  “I was hoping you’d tell us.”

  She looked around with a slight frown, while the crack in the ground closed and became invisible, as if the earth had never tried to swallow me into oblivion. I shook my head.

  “I’ve no idea. I just…”

  I looked at Jilu’s perfect fuchsia bobbed hair.

  Could I accuse her of cheating? Who’d believe me if I did? Jilu was a royal princess, about to get engaged to the local lord’s son and king’s nephew, while I was a commoner whose allegiances were still questioned, despite having prevented a war. Besides, if I revealed the conversation I’d overheard, I’d give away my gift for languages. I couldn’t fight to save my life, and this was a dangerous world, so I chose to keep this ace up my sleeve. I swallowed the truth and my pride.

  Still, something didn’t feel right.

  Jilu had a spell cast on Gurvan, but is she behind my attempted burial? Would she kill me for a game?

  “What were you saying?” asked Malin. “You just… You just what?”

  “Nothing. I mean, I just caught the feather, and the earth opened beneath my feet.”

  “Did you sense any magic?”

  She knew of my natural ability, which made the question perfectly relevant. I sighed.

  “Not when it happened, no.”

  I did see the spell on Gurvan’s forehead, however. I won’t bring it up, but if she asks me about it, I’ll answer honestly.

  However, Malin didn’t ask me anything else. She closed her eyes instead, arms extended, a look of deep focus on her face. She was probably scanning the field for traces of interference. But what could she find? The whole place was filled to the brim with magic! Even the cheating from the Foleshian team was probably undetectable to anyone but me.

  I turned to Arnias.

  “Does the field do this? Decide a player is unwelcome and bury them alive?”

  He scratched his brow, just above his eyepatch.

  “As far as I know, it’s unheard of. It might even be considered as a bad omen for the engagement ceremony.”

  Is this what Jilu and Gurvan are talking about? I should reassure them at once.

  I strode across the field, holding the feather high in my right hand. The archbishop briefly brought his hands in a circle before his face, as a blessing.

  “What a relief, Great Hero Al! For a while, we feared the sorcerers might not bring you back.”

  I tried to smile. “Lady Malin is a Senior Magus, Archbishop. This isn’t the first time she rescues me.”

  “Anyway, we cannot help but wonder. Was it the Almighty’s hand? If so, what was He trying to tell us? Or was it something else?”

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  The other priest, the referee, narrowed his eyes.

  “What did you do exactly?”

  “What did I do?”

  I got help from a creature who might count as a minor deity, but since all I wanted was to balance an act of cheating, there’s no reason why it should upset the Almighty. Unless, of course, He has the self-control of a four-year-old, or a Greek god, which is pretty much the same.

  My eyes turned to Princess Jilu, who frowned in return.

  “Why are you staring at me?” she asked in a perfectly innocent voice.

  Come on, you know what you did. But it’s nice of you to actually speak to me for once.

  “My apologies, Princess, I mean, Your Royal Highness. I only looked at you because you’re so radiant. I certainly wouldn’t accuse you of anything!”

  “No, you wouldn’t. I do not know who, or what, sent you underground, but what I do know is that the incident is casting a shadow on my future. Do you know what it would cost me to cancel a second betrothal?”

  Her cinnamon brown eyes filled with tears.

  Isn’t she good at faking despair! Anyway, she has a point. After her first would-be fiancé died suddenly, if a mysterious tragedy costs her another engagement, she’ll be known as The Infamous Cursed Princess of Folesh, and someone so focused on her image certainly doesn’t want that. Whatever she did, she never meant to kill me.

  I handed her the feather.

  “Well, you won’t have to cancel anything. I’m back, I’m safe, and so is the feather. Shall we resume the game?”

  The archbishop shook his head.

  “I cannot allow it, Great Hero Al. As long as we don’t know why the ground collapsed, we must assume it can happen again. And this time, even a Senior Magus might not be able to rescue the lost player.”

  “But what about the engagement?”

  Gurvan smiled. “It will take place. The betrothal games are just a tradition. They were interrupted in the past and they will be interrupted again.”

  Senior Magus Malin arrived, along with a bearded Tibun man in sorcerer robes. They confirmed no trace of a specific spell could be perceived in the magic-infused soulfeather field, leaving them without a lead on what happened.

  The archbishop nodded. “Then the case is settled. For lack of a clue pointing to a human act of malevolence, we must assume something angered the Almighty. We will hold a penance ceremony prior to letting the engagement take its course.”

  The public reacted with understandable disappointment when the referee announced the decision, but there was no changing the archbishop’s mind. Everyone left the stands, Lady Arez gave back the dog Kian to Princess Jilu, and a line of carriages followed the road back to Zerta.

  I closed my eyes and allowed myself to lean against the backrest. I’d been given hostile looks, as if I was causing the bad omen. Am I really to blame? By getting help from Cherub, did I trigger a curse of sorts? It doesn’t make sense. Cherub themself didn’t mention anything about calling creatures from another plane of existence, when they explained the rules last night. On the other hand, casting a spell is explicitly cheating, and yet, nothing happened to the caster, or to anyone in the Foleshian team.

  “Was it the Almighty’s hand, though?” asked Gurvan.

  “I have no idea, Young Lord,” answered Arnias in a low voice.

  “It hardly makes any sense. Why would He go after Al, when He brought her to this world to be our Great Hero?”

  I could sense the boy staring at me. I opened my eyes with a sigh. “I wish I had an answer, but I did nothing that could go against the Almighty’s will, Lord Gurvan. I’m sorry.”

  He pursed his lips and looked out of the window. “Then let us hope the penance ceremony rids us of this bad omen.”

  I thought we’d stop at the Citadel, but we went straight past it, then across the city of Zerta, until we finally reached the temple. It was significantly larger than the royal chapel in Carastra, but they shared a similar architecture, and a dome that made the building look like a mosque or an Orthodox church. When we got off the coach, a curious crowd was already flocking to the doors.

  “How did the news spread so fast?” I asked in a low voice.

  Yumel sighed. “We were among the last to leave the field. Whoever arrived first must have made sure everyone knew a penance ceremony was coming along. It’s unusual enough to be entertaining.”

  “Entertaining? Aren’t we trying to appease the Almighty’s wrath?”

  Otiric shook his head. “I don’t think we’ll be smitten today, Lady Al. We mostly comply to be on the safe side, and to put on a bit of a show.”

  Arnias glared at him, but he smirked like the teenager that he was.

  Each of us was asked to change behind a wooden partition. The plain white gown I was supposed to wear was identical to the one I’d been given right after my summoning, my first piece of clothing in this world.

  Will I need to conduct an evacuation again?

  No, I wouldn’t. There was no subdued dragon outside ready to try and roast the roof, only a very sorry one who hadn’t even watched our attempt at playing soulfeather. Kossi was probably kept somewhere in the Citadel, waiting to be released for the engagement.

  I breathed deeply, slowly, and changed into the white gown.

  We all lined up before the archbishop, the two teams, the referee, and the sorcerers who had recharged the magic field in the morning. All of us were white-clad, barefoot, on our knees. Witches about to burn at the stake.

  It was the first time I saw Malin wear anything else than ornate purple robes, and it took a lot away from her poise as a Senior Magus. Princess Jilu, on the other hand, looked as regal as ever. How did she even do that? Was it her face, her graceful stance, the diamond-shaped tattoos that brought out her eyes?

  The archbishop stood in front of the stone pillar representing the Almighty’s radiance and ascension. When the temple was reasonably full, he led a prayer, then he spoke of some mean rich guy from ancient times who earned forgiveness through penitence and charity. As far as I knew, every major religion had the same kind of redemption arc, somewhere in its liturgy.

  “Almighty, I failed. Grant me the strength to overcome my weakness and rise to Your light.”

  One by one, we had to repeat this sentence, be very lightly hit on the head with a long stick and receive a single drop of oil in our hands. I had no idea whether there was an Almighty watching us, but I was sure that, somewhere in a white blur, Cherub was chuckling at my forced contrition.

  When we were finally allowed to stand up, I looked at the crowd of believers assembled around us in the round building, and I could swear most of them were staring at me. The first rows were filled with people close to power. Close enough to know exactly what had happened on the soulfeather field. They thought I was the one who offended the Almighty. Never mind that I jumped into the sea to save their third princess the day before. What they’d witnessed, and what they’d remember, was the earth opening beneath my feet, on blessed ground, to bury me alive.

  What crime do they believe I committed?

  The Almighty might have forgiven me, but the people of Zerta hadn’t.

  By the time we changed back into our soulfeather clothes, the assembly had left the temple. Our steps echoed on the stone floor and bright light came in through the high narrow windows. The place was pleasant, once nobody scowled at me. I brought my hands up to my nose and breathed in the perfumed oil.

  It’ll be all right. Crowds have a short memory span. Everything will be forgotten soon.

  I tried my best to hang on to that thought. When we parted in the courtyard of the Citadel, Gurvan took both my hands between his.

  “I look forward to your presence tonight, Al.”

  Oh, yes, I must attend the engagement ceremony. Can’t I run away, walk across the hills and watch the sunset over the ocean?

  I nodded. “Thank you, Lord Gurvan. I might not be able to express it in person, as you will be quite busy, but I wish the best for you and Princess Jilu.”

  “This is very kind of you. Now, get some rest. You need it.”

  I walked across the courtyard to the outbuilding, found my room, and closed the door behind me. I could barely stand. Whatever had kept me going through the day was gone.

  Why aren’t I in Carastra, enjoying a calm afternoon with Catalin?

  I took off my shoes, fell on the bed and curled up into a ball, hugging a pillow. I missed Catalin with every cell of my heart. Catalin wouldn’t be mad at me for nothing. She’d be sensible, clever, and see the positive side of things.

  I clenched my fists over the pillow. When I do something wrong, I can accept the blame, but what did I do this time? Do I deserve any of this?