Little Saint Bride [Death and the Maiden, #1]

Chapter Nineteen: The Sinner

Hadrian gives the unusual necklace a calculating look, before nodding and saying, 'Yep. You passed three, but you failed four. But at least it wasn't a complete fail, or, as I said, you'd be thrown into a snake pit.'

Only the last two words register, and I pale. 'Snake pit?'

'Along those lines,' he says casually. 'Depending on the sin.'

Clutching the tag around my neck, I turn it around so I can read it. The metal chain is too small to pull off over my head, and there's no unfastening mechanism. The plaque, of engraved metal, reads:

Nerissa Sarabella, Soul No. 3654829

A: 3 E: 2 Gr: 0 Gl: 0 L: 4 P: 4 S:0

'I don't understand what it says,' I murmur, catching Hadrian's arm. I touch skin, and I take a moment to appreciate that he's still in his underwear, only now his boxer shorts are clinging to his body, waterlogged.

They really should make waterlogged a fashion trend, I muse. From the corner of my eye, I can see those V lines that I had so meticulously explored in the waterfall dream...

'What just happened to you?' I add, 'I went through this weird dream. Did you...?'

Hadrian shakes his head, taking the plaque in his hands and studying it again. 'No, I'm not a human undergoing judgement,' he replies.

I'm struck by his words, wondering if that means he saw my vision instead. Remembering trousers discarded on the floor, I pray that he didn't. To distract myself from the dream and the half naked man before me, I chew the inside of my lip and take stock of my surroundings.

The world is a mix of dark blues and lush, emerald greens. For what seems like miles, there's only tall grasses and wildflowers, lilting in a gentle night's breeze. In the far distance, small lights of a city can be seen, but it's beyond my sight to visualize it. 

Hadrian nudges me, then pointing to the plaque, says, 'Here, underneath your name and number, there's a series of letters and numbers. They're your scores. Each one stands for a cardinal sin.'

I frown at the small, chiseled writing. 'You mean, the seven deadly sins?'

I know a fair amount of Minoa's religious worship, not by choice but necessity. To understand the ritual of the little saint bride, I'd delved into religious theology to understand what was needed. Turns out, the Minoan temples weren't entirely sure themselves, but from what I gathered souls were judged after death for their sins, classified into seven categories. 

'Yes,' Hadrian says, and his smirk grows wider. 'The points are out of five, with five being the worst and zero being the best. You got three zeros: greed, gluttony and sloth. That's quite good. Shame about Anger, Pride, Envy and Lust, though.'

'And they judged me in that dream?' My head feels intruded. Whatever was in that psychedelic whirlpool of water I do not trust one bit. 

Hadrian nods. 'It's quite clever. Each person sees a different dream, of course, but it always relates to their inside desires and wants. You picked to do the proper thing with greed, gluttony and sloth.'

'I don't even know which bits represented what sin,' I reply, pulling my dripping wet hair from my back. 'The beggar is obvious now I think about it; that was gluttony, right? But what about the school? And the argument with my mother?'

'Definitely gluttony if it was about food,' Hadrian murmurs, 'Chronus isn't subtle about this stuff. As to the argument with your mother...' He trails away, as if looking beyond me, into the water. 'The sin of anger is to reject love and instead choose confrontation. Would that fit?'