Cupid’s Match

The Commander pulls me out of my seat, his fingers curling tightly around my arm as he drags me into the dungeon corridor.

This is really happening. There is no turning back now.

Cupid and Crystal are also being dragged out of their cells, shouting insults and threats at their captors all the while.

Cupid catches my eye as four of the white-suited agents surround him. They seem to be taking no chances when it comes to risking his escape, and I watch in horror as they tear at his clothes and punch him in the stomach. I rip my arm away from the Commander’s grip, wanting to rush to Cupid’s aid, but I’m grabbed again and pulled roughly back.

Cupid doesn’t react to the beating—he merely holds my gaze. Crystal just looks irritated. I watch as she shrugs off the male agent who is attempting to hold her still.

The Commander releases me and stands back from the group of us, watching the scene dispassionately. “Christian, handcuff the prisoners,” he says once everyone has quieted down.

The agent I presume is Christian slips a thick black cable around my wrists. The material is ice cold and pinches my skin. As he moves over to do the same to Crystal and Cupid, the Commander gives a thin smile.

“Time to go, Venus is waiting.”

The Commander strides down the damp corridor ahead of us, and I am pushed forward. I can hear the sounds of Cupid and Crystal being marched along behind me.

I glance through the bars of the dark cells as we walk by, catching glimpses of the Myths sitting inside. The Minotaur winks at me as we pass, a dangerous smile playing about his lips. I remember what Cupid said in the labyrinth.

The Minotaur is a killer.

We could use a killer around about now. But when I think of Pandora’s reaction to Cal back in the Sim, and Cupid’s revelation that the Matchmaking Service had put a lot of the Myths in there, I find myself wondering if they’ll really come to our aid.

We are forced up the stone steps and into the indoor courtyard. As we pass the stone statue, I think of the real version of Venus: her corpse-like touch, her unblinking eyes, her impossible strength. With every part of my being I will Cupid and Cal’s plan to work, but I can’t help but doubt it. Are we really going to win against a goddess?

We’re taken down a long, wide corridor that’s new to me. The walls, floor, and ceiling are all checkered black and white. At the end is an archway through which I can hear the slow, rhythmic pounding of a large drum.

It’s here that the Commander stops for a moment and turns to check that everyone is in position. Then he nods at the agents and steps through. I take a deep breath, mentally preparing myself.

Christian marches me through the arch as blood pounds in my ears. We enter a vast room that looks like a mixture between a temple and a courtroom. Ahead of us, stretching past a high podium all the way to the other side of the room, is a sea of white suits and glinting arrows: rows and rows of seated cupids. They all stare at us as Christian grabs my arm and pulls me forward.

As we pass the tall, wooden judge’s bench, Venus’s sickly sweet scent almost overpowers me. I glance up and see she’s decorated the bench with bouquets of myrtles and roses. They look wilted and sad, like flowers at a funeral.

When we’re marched onto a raised stone platform, I gasp despite myself. In the center are three black metal poles, a length of cable hanging from each. Around the outside are ten agents, each with a large drum that they bang rhythmically.

The stern Italian Arrow who kidnapped Crystal stands at the ready. His bow is much larger and more elaborate than the ones I’ve seen Cupid or Cal use, and in his quiver are three black arrows and one gold: the replica of the Finis.

As the agents force me, Cupid, and Crystal toward the poles, I realize that if Cal doesn’t act soon, this is where we will be executed. Christian roughly pulls my bound hands above my head and attaches them to the cable hanging from the top of the pole. I let him, because it is part of the plan, but a wave of panic consumes me as soon as I am trapped in place. When I pull against the restraints, the bindings dig into my flesh. There is no escape.

“I don’t like this,” I hear Crystal hiss at Cupid as she is bound to the pole to my left. “I need to tell you—”

One of the agents slaps her across the face, silencing her.

“Crystal!” I say.

She looks up at me, her cheek an angry pink. Before she can say anything else the same agent looks into my eyes. “Shut it.”

Moments later Cupid is bound to the pole on my other side. Although his hands are bound above his head, too, he turns to give me a weak, worn-down smile. There are rips in his black cotton T-shirt and tired smudges below his eyes. I wish I could reach out to touch him.

“You okay, lovebug?”

I can hardly hear him over the pounding of the drums. I nod but I’m not; if I wasn’t tied to this pole, my legs would be buckling. My mind reels over images of my life, my friends, my dad. He must be so worried.

I don’t want to die.

Frantically, I search the crowd for Cal. Finally, I spot him standing at the end of the front row. His face is a mask again, his silver eyes cold.

Then suddenly the pounding of the drums stops, leaving the vast space in deathly silence.

Venus is standing behind the floral bench.

Her red hair is newly braided with white flowers and her glassy eyes look straight ahead. She is now wearing a revealing white strappy dress that is almost the same color as her pale skin.

Her gaze falls to Crystal and Cupid, then slides to me. I feel my skin crawl as her lips twist into a cruel smile.

“Well, shall we begin?”