Chapter 6
6
I spent the rest of our allocated training time running drills with Rachelle—who was evil incarnate as a trainer. There were a set of root patterns on the ground by a big tree that she used for agility drills, having me run through them wih high knees. She tied stones around my waist and yelled at me to run, and I fought against the heavy weight as they dragged me down. Rachelle tied stones to herself, too, but somehow she was able to run literal circles around me, playing both drill sergeant but also giddy best friend as she clapped and jumped up and down every time I finished a set.
“You’re a beast,” Rachelle said as we drank from our waterskins. I sat on the ground, trying to catch my breath as she stood and stretched.
“I feel like jelly,” I whispered as I tried not to heave up my meager breakfast, not wanting to appear weak in front of the others.
“You just gotta keep fighting, Saffy my gal,” Rachelle playfully punched me. “You may say you’re not The Lord Killer, but you did kill that workout.”
I rolled her eyes. “Whatever you say, boss.”
The training grounds were slowly emptying out as prisoners headed back to their cells. As Rachelle went to the small stream at the edge of the training grounds to refill her waterskin, I followed her. But instead of going to the stream, I walked to the tall hedges of black roses that circled the training grounds, keeping us in.
I edged closer to them, trying to see through to the other side. What might await us beyond these bushes. Curious, I started to put my hand into the bush to try and part it?—
“STOP!” Rachelle said, and she yanked my arm out just in time as the bush grew sharp thorns the size of daggers.
I stumbled back, staring at the bush in shock. I watched as the thorns slowly receded. “What is this place?” I breathed.
Rachelle shook her head, leading me back to the patches of moss where we had been stretching before. “All of the gods were imprisoned on this island generations ago by our ancestors. This island might have been normal before, but it’s not now. The gods—if they are truly waking up—want us to participate in these trials. That’s why the island keeps us here. Only those with Illumia Crystals can move freely without the island attacking them.”
“Illumia Crystals?”
“Supposedly crystals that are blessed by the goddess Illumia herself. The King, his court, and the courts of allied kingdoms he invites to watch the trials have them. Same with the guards. But us?” Rachelle held up her left hand, showing the upside down flame inked on her flesh that was a symbol of being a participant in The Ash Trials. “We’re marked for death or whatever fate comes with winning these trials.”
“So escaping…” I started.
“Isn’t an option, which you just saw,” Rachelle said glumly. “After Lucille… I promised myself I wouldn’t try again. I didn’t want to doom anyone to that kind of fate.”
I saw the pain in her expression, and I wondered what she had endured before ending up here. “What was your life before this?” I asked.
Rachelle grinned at me “Seeing if you can trust me?”
“Just wanted to know who I’m allying with. Maybe you could also tell me what your power is, as I assume you have one.”
A ghost of a smile graced Rachelle’s lips as she sat down, tugging me down to the moss with her, taking a swig from her waterskin. “You’re smart, Saffron. Even though you were basically as good as born yesterday.”
“Flattery won’t let me forget the questions I asked.”
“As for my power? You’ll see very soon. As for what got me here…” Rachelle looked away, and I caught a flicker of pain in her gaze. “The King no longer saw me fit for his harem. And I didn’t want to train another generation of girls to please him. So I tried to fight my way out. Killed a bunch of palace guards with the help of Lucille back when we were in Luminaria’s palace on the nearby mainland. Maybe we got a little too… eager in the process. Ended up here a few months ago. Lucille, as you know, discovered the consequences of trying to escape—but her death was still more merciful than being the King’s whore for the rest of her life. Her and I left behind a life of golden cages.”
My hand flew to my mouth as her history settled in. “I’m so sorry.”
“You’re not the King. You have nothing to apologize for.”
“That’s why you don’t want to compete. Why you tried to escape before I got here.”
Rachelle shrugged. “Before you came, there wasn’t a point to the suffering I was about to endure. But after? It’s nice to be around someone with fight left in their bones. Even if you need to bulk up a bit,” she teased, pinching my side.
I swallowed, and felt like I had to admit something to her. “Callum—the Commander—was trying to convince me to ask the King for mercy. So I’m not sure if I truly have the fight in me that you think I do.”
“I would never fault you for trying to save your ass. There are many different ways to fight, you know. But you have to tell me this, Saffron: how did you get both Tristen and Callum to take interest in you? Please spill your love potion recipe, I beg of you.”
My cheeks reddened. “Callum’s not?—”
“Oh come on, Saffron. I used to serve as a royal whore. I know the look a man gets when he sees something he wants.”
“It’s not like that. Callum knew me when I was growing up. We were from the same village and he’s trying to protect me. But to be honest, I just… I don’t know if I can make it out alive—through any of this. I’m in way over my head,” I confessed. “And it might be stupid to tell you that, as I know we’re technically competing against each other, but it’s true.” I met Rachelle’s gaze, and she put a hand on my shoulder.
“First, most of us are terrified. If you’re not scared, you’re a fucking bridge troll with a taste for human suffering,” Rachelle said.
I laughed, the feeling of it making my body relax—just a little.
“Secondly,” Rachelle continued, “we are technically competing against each other, but we’ll both be in trouble if we can’t even make it to the sixth trial. So I propose an alliance. We’ll both do everything we can to help each other get to the end, and let the gods sort it out from there. Deal?”
I smiled at her outstretched hand, and took it. “Deal,” I said, and we shook on it.
A guard came over, nodding his head to Rachelle. “Training’s over. I have to take you back.”
Rachelle turned to me. “I’ll see you in the first trial. Try to get some rest,” she said, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze.
“I’ll try,” I said. I watched Rachelle get escorted away, presumably back to her cell. Then, I stood and turned—nearly running into Rook, the guard Callum had reassigned the other day.
“It’s time to take you back to your cell,” he said, but there was a coldness about him that shone in his beady eyes.
“You’re no longer my assigned guard,” I tried, but the training grounds had completely emptied out, the afternoon sun starting to dip into the sky and casting long shadows across the field. There was no one for me to ask for help.
“The others are tied up in Crown matters. Let’s go,” he said, shoving me toward one of the entrances back down to the prison. Guess I had no choice, then.
He led me down the sloping ramp back into the belly of Ashguard, and I followed him through endless twisting hallways. We continued past a block of empty prison cells, lit torches lining the walls and illuminating the stone hallways in the dark. While most of the cells looked the same, I noted that after a few turns, they didn’t seem to be going in the direction of where I thought my cell was.
“This isn’t the way back to my cell.”
Rook was silent, not turning to me.
“Hey, we’re going the wrong way—” I said, reaching out to grab his arm.
Rook whirled around, throwing me against a wall. I cried out as I hit the cold stone, and a spark of pain rattled through my bones as I slid to the floor.
Rook advanced toward me. Some instinct awakened within me, and I scrambled to my feet. He set his lantern down and unsheathed his shortsword.
“You murdered my father, and for that, you will pay, Lord Killer.”
Lord Killer. Would this stupid rumor be the death of me?
“I didn’t do anything. I’m not The Lord Killer,” I said, watching my death advance toward me. What could my fists do against a sword?
“You lie.”
“Don't you think if I was strong enough to kill some lord I would have done away with you by now?”
“LIAR!” Rook yelled, fire in his eyes as he raised the sword, slashing wildly.
I rolled out of the path of his blade, snatching the discarded lantern in the narrow hallway. I held it up like a shield, my body shaking out of a combination of fear and pure exhaustion.
“I’m not who you think I am!” I yelled, blocking another swing of his blade with the lantern?—
—which shattered upon impact, and I clenched my teeth through the pain of the cascading broken glass biting into my skin. I tossed the open flame of the bare lantern directly at the guard, and he roared as part of his uniform caught ablaze. His sword clattered to the ground as he tried to put out the flames.
That’s all I needed to turn and sprint down a hallway that I hoped would lead me back to the others—to someone —my heart pounding in my throat.
I turned down a musty tunnel, slipping on some slick stone—but regained my balance and turned down another hallway.
“Don’t you run from me, Lord Killer!” Rook bellowed after me.
Faster.
I sprinted down another corridor of empty cells. I pumped my legs, sprinting to…
…a dead end.
No no no no no no.
I heard the sound of advancing boots from behind me, and I whirled, backing up against the wall, my chest heaving.
Rook turned the corner. Seeing me trapped, he slowed his pace. A predator toying with its prey.
“Let’s try this again, girl.” His sword glinted in the light of one of the wall-mounted torches, and I got a burst of pride from seeing the burn marks and deep wounds the lantern had inflicted upon him. That I had inflicted upon my would-be murderer.
But it wouldn’t be enough.
I crouched in a defensive stance. “Kill me with honor and drop your sword. Unless you’re afraid of a girl .”
“You deserve no such honor,” Rook said, advancing toward me and raising his sword once more with wild eyes as I felt my heartbeat hitch as I squeezed my eyes shut?—
—but no death blow swung down on me. Just the squelching of a sword slicing through a body. I gathered the courage to open my eyes.
Rook coughed up blood and staggered backward as Callum yanked his sword from the man’s heart. It was the second time in just as many days that I had seen Callum kill a man with that piercing blow from behind.
Rook fell with a gurgle, and Callum raised his sword. He once more plunged it into the man’s heart. Making sure that Rook was truly dead before he turned back to me, walking over and crouching down.
“Saffron,” he said, his hands going to me. “Are you?—”
I winced, my hand going to the back of my head, and coming back with blood. My blood.
Callum’s eyes went wide, and moments later his strong hands slipped underneath my legs and my neck, cradling me to his strong body as my mind went foggy.
“Where are we going?” I asked, fisting my hand in his shirt to try and steady my spinning vision.
“This wing has an old alchemist’s office. I think they have some supplies down here,” he said, but I noted a dash of panic in his voice.
“I thought… you weren’t allowed… to interfere…”
“Not when other prisoners are trying to kill you. One of my men, on the other hand? They must have a death wish.”
Words felt harder to get out, but I tried to push them from my lips. “He thought… I was The Lord Killer…”
Callum’s jaw tightened, and he pulled me closer as he picked up his pace and turned down another hallway. “I’ll never forgive that fucking Assassin for painting a target on your back.”
“He helped me. Earlier.”
“When he almost broke your arm?” Callum ground out.
“No, when he… I almost drank the tea…”
Callum swore. “Who do you think poisoned the tea to begin with? He’s moving pieces around on the board. Don’t be one of them.”
Before I could reply, Callum kicked open a door that swung on its hinges. He walked me into a dark room, torches flaming to life thanks to the prison’s magic. As the light filled the stone room, I saw that there was a metal table against one wall, but the rest of the room was filled with plants dripping over every surface—and boxes of what looked like medical supplies.
“What is this place?” I asked as Callum placed me on the high metal table, my back against a wall in a sitting position as he stepped between my legs.
“It’s an alchemist’s old lab. The healers use it from time to time and keep the supplies they need here. Just be careful of the Sparkseed plant, it explodes if you throw it at a wall. I think that’s how we lost the alchemist who used to work here, actually.” He tilted his neck, towering over me as he bent to examine my head injury.
“Don’t fuck with the plants, got it,” I said, but my breath hitched as I was nearly flush against Callum’s chest as he held me, and I smelled his musky leather and citrusy scent. He smelled of forests and greenery, of the outdoors, and tumbles in dirt. He smelled… familiar. As if I could envision the two of us running around a leafy village together. No memories came to me, but I could see how Callum could have fit into my past.
“Your head doesn’t look too bad,” Callum said as he examined the wound. “A simple healing elixir should be just fine for now, but I’ll come check on how it looks tomorrow.”
He pulled away, turning to the cabinet and I shivered, feeling the loss of his body heat and closeness. Seeing my shiver, Callum wordlessly pulled off his guard’s jacket.
“I don’t need—” I started, but he just shook his head and tucked the jacket around me, bundling me in it.
“Keep it. It’s only going to get colder down here.”
“You don’t think it’s suspicious if the other guards see me with your jacket?”
“Let them talk,” Callum said, turning to ransack one of the shelves.
“That hardly sounds wise,” I said. “I can’t let you get hurt because you’re helping me.”
“Don’t worry about me,” Callum said, setting down an armful of medical supplies on the table next to me.
I frowned. “You have to be careful, too, Callum.”
A smile twitched the edge of his lips. “I’ll try if you try.” He wet some linen strips with a colored liquid. “Here, lean your head on me.”
I did, nestling my forehead in his shirt as he gently parted my hair on the back of my head where the wound was.
“This might sting a bit,” he murmured, and I could feel the rumbling of his chest as he spoke.
I hissed in pain as the linen coated with the healing elixir stung my injury. I fisted his shirt again, this time to pull him into me as he worked, cleaning the wound with his gentle fingers. I felt a tingling sensation on the back of my head as if my flesh was slowly knitting back together.
“There. All done,” Callum said, his voice gruff, setting down the bloodied cloth on the counter beside him, going to wash his hands in the metal sink before turning back to me.
But as I lifted my head and looked up at him, he didn’t pull away, still standing in between my dangling legs, his hands shifting to hold mine. His right thumb drew small circles on the back of my left hand.
“Feeling better?” he asked.
“A little,” I said, feeling a bit intoxicated by his closeness. Maybe it was the heady rush of escaping death, or the fear of the upcoming challenge, or the comfort of having an ally—but I didn’t want to leave him. Didn’t want to go back to my cold cell.
“The first trial is tomorrow. It will be some kind of fight in the Stone Coliseum. You’ll need to find a weapon in the arena and defend yourself. Do you know what kind of weapon you’ll pick?”
“I’m not sure,” I said. “I didn’t get a chance to handle many of the weapons today, so I’ll just make do with what I can find in the trial.”
“Good. Whatever you do, don’t go for the sword in the stone.”
“The sword in the stone?”
He nodded. “In every previous trial, one of the weapons that an unlucky prisoner tries to go for is the Bluesteel Blade. It’s a sword embedded in a stone, and every prisoner who has gone after it has died a gruesome death.”
“Why? What’s so special about it?”
“Honestly? Only the gods know. The properties of Bluesteel are unknown, but I’ve just heard so much about how those who try to wield it get their arms burned to ashes and the like. Avoid it and just go for another weapon.”
“Don’t go after the Bluesteel Blade. Got it,” I said.
“Just keep a low profile and stay alive,” Callum said.
“Why are you helping me?”
His expression softened, and I fought the urge to run my fingers through his wavy blond-brown hair. “Because. I want us to go back to the way things were before.”
“Which was?” I asked. He was so close to me, his eyes dipping to my lips at my question. It was difficult to keep thoughts together.
“It depends,” he breathed, and raised his right hand to gently cradle my jaw, his thumb swiping across my bottom lip. I felt a strange urge to lean into it, to part my lips for him, to take his thumb into my mouth…
I tilted my head up to him, but winced as my body’s injuries and bruises came creaking back into my consciousness.
Callum let his hand drop. “You should rest. Dinner will be sent to your cell soon, and tomorrow—” he paused, the words hard for him to get out. “Get through tomorrow and we can pick up where we left off.”
I nodded, and Callum didn’t wait to ask me how I was feeling before he swept me up in his strong arms once more, carrying me past that room covered in plants and potions, nudging the door open with his body and carrying me in silence down the stone hallway toward my cell. Once we arrived, he gently laid me down on my cot, tugging his—now my —jacket around me to keep me warm.
“One more thing,” Callum said, and he withdrew a small blade covered in a rag from a pocket in his breeches, handing it to me. I started to unsheath it, but he stopped me. “Keep it sheathed for now. It’s got a fast-acting paralyzing elixir on the edge of the blade. It’s a small enough dagger that you should be able to keep it hidden, but be careful with it if you do need to use it. The paralyzing elixir won’t work long, but long enough to hopefully give you a chance to escape whatever… situation you might find yourself in.”
“Thank you,” I said, and his warm green eyes were so close to me in the dark. He was once again risking his position to help me.
“Knock ‘em dead, Saffron. I mean it,” he said, and rose up and left my cell. But each step seemed like it took effort. As if he didn’t want to leave my cell.
But I knew I couldn’t let Callum distract me, even if I wanted him to. Even if I wanted to beg him to help me escape and take me far away from this island, this prison, and these godsforsaken trials I was about to face.
However, no matter what tomorrow brought, I would rise to the challenge. If I was to die, I would die fighting with everything I had.