Skye frowned. What was the meaning of this? She could accept dying in a battle against a deadly foe–she had steeled herself for that very real possibility–but to die an arbitrary death simply because some ancient stones didn’t think she deserved to live? Her mind could not fathom that.
The crowd behind her began to stir. Hushed voices grew louder as confusion gave way to indignance. Skye wasn’t the only one who felt this ‘test’ was unfair.
“Of course,” said Lark, “no one will force you to cross. Captain Bucklewort’s ship awaits you at the pier, should you choose to walk away.”
Then, with a coy smile, he added, “There is no shame in valuing your life.”
There was silence as each participant processed what the Islander was saying. Skye, Wynn and Tang turned to see some of the crowd peeling off, starting from those furthest from the building. Several others began to join them, making their way back down the pier.
Skye clenched her fists, digging her nails into her palms. The Islander was taunting them, and those fools had fallen for it. In that instance, she was brought back to her hometown, to the day her father was taken. That look on Boss Mandra’s face, that sickening snide expression, that horrid delight at her helplessness. It was the same look that Lark now bore, though the Islander was much subtler about it.
Walk away?
To be at the mercy of forces beyond her control: that was precisely the chain she wanted to shatter by coming to the Island.
Never again.
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She turned to Wynn. "I’m going, but you don't have to follow."
But Wynn shook her head, her eyes resolute. That made Skye feel slightly better.
Skye walked through first, and Lark stepped aside to make way. She had a nagging sense to close her eyes, but forced herself to keep them open; if she died, she would face death head-on.
She half expected fanfare, some spectacle of light and sound. Instead, there was only a dull hum in the air as the runes in the archway glowed faintly. The crowd behind her had gone silent; she imagined they were watching her intently, waiting to see what would happen.
Nothing.
Instinctively, Skye looked down at herself, first checking her hands, then her legs and the rest of her body.
She was completely fine, standing in a long hallway.
She looked to Lark, who now bore a different smile. This one was softer, less cruel. Bordering on mischievous. It reminded Skye of a child who had successfully pulled off an elaborate prank.
Skye turned to face the stupefied crowd. She gave a slight nod to Wynn, who then proceeded to come through.
The humming noise sounded again. Unlike Skye, Wynn had her eyes shut tight. She opened them several seconds after she passed through the door, and a look of relief washed over her.
Tang gulped and went next, his entire body tense and quivering. He nearly cried when he passed through unharmed.
Then, one-by-one, the rest of the participants began to pass through the threshold, emboldened by the fact that three individuals crossed without dropping dead. The hallway began to fill with more people, forcing Skye, Wynn and Tang to move further inward.
As the last of the crowd entered the building, Skye’s suspicion was confirmed: no one had died.
“There was never any danger,” said Tang.
Skye nodded. “It was a simple test. If you fear death, you won’t survive the Island.”
“I don’t know about you, but I was definitely afraid,” said Wynn. “Still am, actually.”
“So am I.” Skye lightly bumped a fist against her friend’s shoulder. “But we’ll survive.”