The one to the left of the middle spoke, its voice brittle and aged. Peinea, I thought. Pestilence. “Prove yourself worthy.”

“Prove myself worthy?” I stiffened even further, belly-flopping right into anger. “Of what and why?”

Words scratched their way from the third rider, who had to be Loimus. Hunger. “Prove yourself worthy of the crown and bearing the weight of Life.”

“Yeah…” I scanned the space. There appeared to be no openings beyond some thin cracks and fissures, but there had to be. How else could I have gotten in here? “No offense, but I have no interest in proving that, nor do I have plans to summon the three of you anytime soon, so—” The stench of burning meat increased, threatening to choke me. “What is that godsforsaken smell?”

“Souls sentenced to the pits,” Polemus answered.

My jaw went slack as the rider’s words repeated in my head. The pits? That had to mean… “I’m in the Abyss?”

“Prove yourself,” Polemus stated for what seemed like the hundredth time.

My hands curled into fists. “Look, I almost died, and that was after being held captive by an insane Primal. And now I’ve been taken into the Abyss against my will. So, thank you for that new trauma. I have no idea if my husband is safe or in the process of burning down the realm to find me—a realm I am supposed to lead, despite barely being able to finish a completed thought. And all I want is one nice night with my—” A horse whinnied, stopping my tirade. I forced myself to take a deep breath and calm down. These beings were as old as the Ancients. “Instead, I’m standing here in just a shirt, and I’m freaking hungry.”

“Prove yourself,” Loimus replied.

My head snapped in the rider’s direction. “I swear to the gods if one of you says prove yourself one more time, I will—”

Polemus threw the sword at me. Literally chucked it without even a heads-up.

Cursing, I lurched to the side just in the nick of time. The weapon flew past me. “What in the actual—?” I gaped when the sword froze inches from striking the wall and remained there, hovering as if suspended by invisible strings.

“You must prove yourself,” Polemus stated.

I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply. Immediately, I regretted doing the latter. The smell gagged me. Forcing my breathing to slow, I quickly thought over my options. I wasn’t idiotic enough to challenge the riders, not when I knew they were something created by the Ancients, and I couldn’t feel even a single bit of essence in me. And that earlier feeling? The intuition that warned me I would fail if I ran? It was still there, pressing down on me. I didn’t really understand it, but apparently, I needed to do something.

I quickly came to the reluctant understanding that if I didn’t do what they wanted, I would likely spend eternity here with the riders saying the same thing repeatedly.

Growling, I stalked toward the sword. The minute my flesh came into contact with the hilt, it warmed. I looked down, feeling the weight. It was almost as heavy as a broadsword. The weapon was some sort of crimson stone that reminded me of the sheer, vertical cliffs in the mountains of the Shadowlands.

My gaze shifted to the hilt. It didn’t seem to be made of any type of common material. If I didn’t know any better, I would’ve sworn it was made of bone. My lip curled in disgust. Yeah, it was best I not think about that.

“Fine,” I barked, facing the riders. “Let’s get this over with.”

Polemus held up his right hand. I tensed, expecting them to charge me, but that didn’t happen.

Flames roared, billowing toward the ceiling. Crimson light filled the markings etched into the stone. I took a step back, and the carvings all along the cavern suddenly appeared as if they were soaked in glowing blood.

“What…what’s going on?” I asked.

There was no answer. Dust fell from the ceiling in a fine shower, drawing my gaze upward. A dark red glow filled the fissures there, the light becoming so radiant that it stung my eyes. My vision blurred as the light seeped from the cracks, spilling into the space between the riders and me.

With wide eyes, I watched the light pulse and grow, expanding until it took shape before me, becoming solid. Terrifying.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I spat, and the golden flames calmed, casting dancing shadows across the cavern walls as I stared at the menacing green-and-blue-scaled creature looming over me.

I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.

The beast was massive, at least twice as tall as I was, and had the body of a draken. Powerful legs and sharp claws that could not only clearly slice through flesh as if it were nothing but tissue paper but were also part of paws large enough to encircle the entirety of my waist. Its chest and torso were broad and muscular. The tail was thick and spiked, but that was where the similarities between it and the draken ended.

The thing had multiple heads.

Three, to be exact.

And its eyes, all three sets of them, were a brilliant shade of glowing silver, glinting with eather.

Possibly as bad as the three heads was its smell. It was rank. A stench somewhere between that of a rotting corpse and brimstone.

“Prove yourself,” one of the riders ordered. “And slay the monster.”

They expected me to fight this thing with nothing more than a sword? No armor? Not even a pair of boots or pants? And on an empty stomach?

“I feel like I’m extremely underprepared for this,” I muttered, tensing.

Forked tongues hissing, the creature’s left and right heads swayed in unison while the center remained still. It extended its long limbs, dragging wickedly sharp claws across the stone floor.

Breathe in. Reality or not, years of training with Holland had taught me that the first thing to do was to silence the mind. Hold. I couldn’t think about Ash. What was happening outside the cavern, or what I faced after this—if I didn’t get eaten by this thing. Breathe out. I couldn’t even think about why this was happening. Hold. I had to shut it all down and focus only on the nightmare standing before me.

It wasn’t like donning the veil of nothingness and becoming an empty vessel or a blank canvas. This was far more natural. There was no struggle or resistance when I silenced my thoughts and tensed my muscles. I became something I was far better suited for than being a Queen.

A fighter.

A warrior.

But that wasn’t the only thing Holland had taught me. I firmed my grip on the sword. Sometimes, it wasn’t best to strike first, especially when you weren’t at a safe distance and were facing a new adversary. I had no idea what this beast was capable of, so I braced and waited.

I didn’t have to wait long.

The middle head rose, coiling back in a fluid, serpentine manner that sent a chill of revulsion coursing through me. A heartbeat passed—

Striking as fast as the pit vipers found near the Cliffs of Sorrow, the left head shot toward me, its mouth stretching open to reveal fangs as long as my finger. I lurched to the side and then jumped back, expecting the right head to make a move. It did. The second head snapped toward me, leaving me only seconds to spin out of its reach.

Holding the sword level, I gritted my teeth and darted forward, my bare feet quick on the stone. I dipped under the sweep of the creature’s claws and lunged, driving the sword into its chest. Or trying. The blade hit scales, and the impact jarred my arms.

Shock rippled through me, and I danced back. The scales were like some sort of armor.

Inching back farther, I caught sight of the shrouded riders and indicated with the sword. “You couldn’t have given me something that actually works?”

“Prove—”

“Yeah,” I cut Loimus off, focusing on the beast’s scales. There were slivers of flesh between them, each maybe an inch or two long. “Prove yourself. You don’t have to keep repeating it.”