Chapter 35 #2
I shielded my eyes with my hand, trying to get a good look at the enormous mirrors despite being at the wrong angle.
Images of the different entrances to the arena flashed across them.
He was droning on about how the arena would have shifted to something we’d never seen before, new terrain that left us all on equal footing, but I didn’t care anymore.
I’d have my chance.
We were summoned then by guards that called our names. They each gathered half a dozen of us and walked with us across the arena.
There were five of us who were led into one cool hallway.
The floor was covered in hay, and there was a strange animal scent in here, reminding me that we were in a glorified stall for the monsters.
It made me uneasy. Maybe I would come out at the other end of the hall in that miserable sea of cages.
But at least I wouldn’t be trapped in a cage of my own, forever bound to this place—and to Fieran, and to my clan.
I was doing the right thing.
The ground rumbled under our boots, an unsettling feeling, as the arena re-arranged itself unseen.
I edged toward the end of the line, pretending a calm I didn’t feel. The air around us buzzed with the tension of bodies shifting, whispering, waiting.
The recruits beside me kept sneaking looks, their eyes glinting with calculation. I could practically feel them rearranging their odds with such an easy victory at their sides.
The gates opened. The recruits headed swiftly out, letting out battle cries that seemed a bit too enthusiastic for those about to bleed.
I turned and walked briskly—purposefully—in the other direction.
“Hey!” someone shouted behind me.
I didn’t look back.
“You’re gonna get yourself killed!” a girl’s voice called again, sharp with disbelief.
Well, that was thoughtful of her.
I lifted a hand in vague acknowledgment, though whether it was a wave or a rude gesture was anyone’s guess.
The noise of the fighting rose behind me. The stands above thundered with approval, voices chanting names that weren’t mine.
Good. I intended to keep it that way.
I hurried down the hall, the roar of the crowd echoing as shifters bloodied one another for their entertainment.
A strange scent rose around me.
Something was burning.
I let out a shaky gasp, steadying myself with my hand against the rough stone wall. I looked over my shoulder toward the distant gate. I wasn’t burning. I was fine.
Maybe there were bonfires to celebrate the victors or to warm the stands. Something logical.
But my heart raced in panic. The walls were narrowing in on me.
A flicker of movement brushed the edge of my vision. I turned sharply. Nothing. Just the shadows shifting along the walls, the torches guttering.
The air shimmered, and I blinked it away. But it shimmered again.
That was when the heat touched my skin, as if I were standing too close to a fire. The air was shimmering around me because it was growing hot, despite the natural cool of the tunnel.
The heat surged. My breath came in short, ragged gasps. I tore at the front of my tunic, desperate for relief, but it was like trying to breathe inside a furnace.
The corridor around me warped, walls rippling in waves of light. My knees gave out, and I sank to the floor.
The scent of smoke filled my nose. It was thick and sweet, cloying, like burning flowers.
Panic clawed up my throat. I looked down, expecting to see flames licking up my arms, but there was only my skin, slick with sweat, glowing faintly gold.
The fire wasn’t outside me. It was in me.
The world narrowed to sound and heat and pain.
“So the curse is real.” The voice was cool, amused.
I forced my burning eyes open. Maura stood over me, framed in the flickering light.
“Ander and Fear think you’re so special.” Her tone dripped with disdain. “If only they could see you now—running from destiny, choking on it.”
I tried to push myself up. My hands trembled, slipping on the slick floor. “Will going to the trial make this stop?”
She tilted her head, studying me as though I were some pitiful thing. “Run and burn, stay and die. It’s quite the dilemma, isn’t it?”
I stumbled toward the arena, praying the fever would ease if I obeyed.
When she laughed behind me, I gritted my teeth and kept going.
But the smoke—the smoke that didn’t seem to exist for anyone else—choked me. I fell to one knee again, gasping for breath. I tried to gather my strength to thrust myself forward, but I fell again.
“Weak.” Maura was over me again.
Then she grabbed my arm. Her grip was merciless, her fingers digging bruises into my fever-hot skin.
But she dragged me forward.
I stumbled along with her—or she dragged me—and with every step, the smoke seemed to clear. I was still fever-hot and gasping for breath, my throat ragged and burning, but I got my feet beneath me. I could stagger along under my own power, though Maura still held me tightly.
“Now we’re even.” She pushed me toward the gate; the sunlight outside stung my eyes, which were already sore from the smoke. “Tell Fear I saved your life, if you’re not too much of a coward.”