“Then stick your hand in there and see what you get.” I smile sweetly.

“Fine.” Ethan strides to the hat and sticks his hand in up to his shoulder. His brow furrows as he moves his arm, feeling around for who knows what.

He yelps, face draining of color, and yanks his arm out.

Nadine and I both step back as he stumbles from the hat, swinging something around in his hand. No. Swinging something attached to his skin. A snake hangs on, fangs dug in deep, just below his hand. Ethan stops moving long enough to grip the snake by the back and pull. His skin stretches with the fangs, and he screams as he jerks it, but it will not give. He lets go, panting. The snake twines its body around his wrist like a bracelet.

“Well, that didn’t go well.” My voice shakes. “Snakes. Why’d it have to be snakes?”

I try to joke and fail. Either nobody here’s an Indiana Jones fan or they’re just not people who joke in crisis. Reina and Diantha would get it. I made them watch Indiana Jones almost as many times as we watched Tomb Raider. I imagine them laughing in the audience and immediately hate myself for even thinking of them.

Nothing else happens with the hat. It sits there, waiting. But I feel it, the vibration coming off it, asking us to step forward.

“Do you feel that?” asks Nadine.

I nod. “We’re not getting out of this.”

“Good,” Ethan grunts.

We both ignore him as we approach the hat together. I glance inside and find nothing but smooth, black silk. Touch me, it says. Caress me. I don’t bite.

“I’ll go,” I say.

“No, let me.” Nadine bounces on her toes, swinging her arms back and forth in front of her like she’s preparing to run a sprint. She dips her hand in, elbow deep, her face tight, waiting for something bad.

She winces but doesn’t scream as she pulls her hand back out.

She holds a blooming red rose. The same color drips from her fingers down to her wrist where the long, needle-sharp thorns have broken her skin. She keeps her grip on it despite the pain—or maybe she can’t let go. I’m afraid to ask.

“A freaking flower,” Ethan grumbles behind me.

“Shut up,” I mutter, facing the hat.