Chapter 12
ISI
I’d spent my whole life being told what to do, where to go, and who to be. It turned out all I needed was mortal danger to find my voice.
The meadow ignited in a single heartbeat.
A woman with copper hair to her waist rushed toward the table covered with weapons.
With a shrill laugh, she grabbed a serrated dagger, pivoting and crouching, daring anyone to try to take it from her.
Another flower the size of a wagon wheel unfurled between her and the table.
Its petals snapped around her legs from behind, yanking her off-balance.
Crying out, she slammed forward onto the ground.
The dagger flew from her hand, gouging into the grass while the blossom’s center dilated, rows of teeth glistening with viscous fluid.
She screamed, clawing at the grass as the plant dragged her under the table, its jaws chomping on her feet. Her shins. Her thighs… Her nails left furrows in the dirt.
I moved, rushing forward. A healthy surge of adrenaline blocked pain. I barely felt my arm. Barely felt my back.
But I came to a stop and backed away as the flower finished gobbling her down. Her shrieks turned wet and gurgling as blood frothed from her mouth. Then she was gone, the blossom shuddering as its stem distended to accommodate her body.
Around me, sixty-some-odd recruits split into chaos.
“They’ll let us back in,” a man with a thick beard bellowed, racing toward the stone wall behind us. Dozens followed, their boots slashing through the deep grass. “This is all just a test. They wouldn’t really—”
They reached the walls and clawed at the doors, pounding fists and trying to pry open the panels. One woman fell to her knees, sobbing as she tried to dig beneath the wall with her bare hands.
Others snatched up weapons from the tables and returned to those still trying to get back inside, handing them out. They started trying to pry their way through the doors. The stone wall.
A shadow rippled through the nest of trees to the right of the wall. Vines plunged down from the branches, coiling around necks and limbs. Recruits holding weapons were jerked off their feet, dangling as the plants reeled them into the canopy.
The man with the beard screamed as he disappeared into the thick vegetation that rumbled and fluttered feverishly before it went still. A few leaves drifted down to the ground, glistening with redness.
“The forest,” someone in the group yelled. “Hide in the trees!”
After what happened to the others?
“Stop,” I yelled, but panic had set in, and no one even glanced my way.
About half the recruits sprinted for the tree line to the right of the tables. They crashed through undergrowth, their shrill voices gouging through the air until they’d disappeared into the vegetation.
“Listen to me,” I shouted, rushing to the middle of the meadow. My friends clustered where they were, watching the ongoing carnage with panic on their faces. “Take only food and water! Nothing else!”
Above the shrieking bedlam, a dark blur swooped low.
The cinderhawk circled once, its wings slicing the air. For a second, it hovered over the central table holding most of the food before lifting off again, its talons catching the sunlight. It banked toward the wall.
A woman with short blonde hair charged past me toward the tables, her face stark with desperation. I lunged forward, into her path, grabbing her shoulders.
“Don’t,” I said, staring her in the eyes. “The plants are triggered by the weapons and tools. Take food and—”
She shoved me, and I stumbled backward. “Fucking get out of my way.” Reaching the tables, she snagged a dagger and tucked it into the back of her pants, pivoting and bolting toward the forest.
Vines grabbed her before she could disappear into the foliage, hauling her up into the canopy that consumed her.
The dagger plunged to the ground, impaling itself to the hilt.
Lexie stumbled across the meadow to stand with me.
“You were right,” she gasped.
Jaxon dove across the grass to tackle a guy who’d lunged for a weapon, knocking him out of a vine’s reach.
“Only food and water,” he bellowed. “Don’t touch anything else!”
Lexie raced over and yanked Jaxon back a second before a spiked vine smacked into the ground where he’d been standing. “Try not to get eaten.”
“No promises,” Jaxon panted, his eyes wide. “I think that one winked at me. Worst group dinner I’ve ever been to.”
Leave it to him to find sick humor in this mess.
I urged everyone backward. Lexie’s eyes blazed with horror, her fingers digging into Derren’s arm. Fara held her hand against her mouth, tears streaming down her cheeks.
Kerralyn’s journal dangled from her hand. I scooped her pencil off the ground and gave it to her, an inane thing to do with screams and cries of terror echoing around us, but I was too frightened to think of anything else.
“What do we do?” Jaxon whispered, the freckles across his nose standing out against his pale skin.
A man in his forties with a silver streak in his dark hair cried out as he leaped over one of the tables, snatching up a bow as he sailed past. A vine lashed down with the speed of a serpent, snatching him mid-air.
His yelp cut short as the plant whipped him around in a dizzying blur before hurling him into a nearby tree.
The thud of his body hitting echoed across the meadow.
“Fates help us,” Bryson whispered in a shaky voice.
A woman near the far table was stuffing tools into a pack.
She clutched it to her chest, backing away with cautious steps.
With a whoosh, a vine snapped out from below the table, coiling around her waist. She screamed as it lifted her into the air, her legs kicking wildly.
The pack slipped from her grasp, falling to the grass, tools spilling across the ground.
Her screams cut off as she disappeared into the canopy.
Bryson gripped my arm, his expression surprisingly calm. “We’re still alive,” he said under his breath, as if that alone was worth holding onto.
“This way,” I called out, and the rest of my group followed, ducking down behind a low stone ridge that bordered one side of the meadow. We huddled together, eight terrified recruits trying to make ourselves as small as possible.
“Only food and water,” I said, my voice quaking. “Nothing else. Not a weapon, not a tool, not a shiny bauble that catches your eye. Not one other thing. Got it?”
“They didn’t listen,” Lexie’s voice shook, her eyes tracking the continuing carnage beyond our hiding place. “They won’t stop.”
“Let the plants thin the herd,” Maddox growled, his jaw tight. “More bonding creatures for those of us smart enough to survive.”
Kerralyn clutched her journal to her chest like a shield. “The plants seem to respond to specific triggers. If we avoid them, then—”
“We live.” On his knees, Bryson peered over the low wall, scanning the meadow. “At least long enough to face whatever comes next.”
“Do you think this is the trial?” Kerralyn asked, leaning out to peer around the end. “It’ll be over soon?”
“I don’t think so,” Derren said. “I don’t know much but whatever the trial is, it’s not over fast.”
“Maybe it’s true. We just have to survive this,” Fara said in a hopeful voice.
Jaxon grunted. “Then why do we need food and water? Sounds like this trial includes a journey.” He peered into the forest straight ahead.
Screams erupted from the meadow, as well as the thuds of running feet.
Three recruits rushed past us, not looking our way. Before they reached the forest, a path unfurled in front of them. They glanced at each other before taking it, the trees shifting back to mask them the instant they were gone.
“Empty-handed,” Maddox said, studying the thick vegetation that remained.
“One was holding a loaf of bread.” Kerralyn flipped open her journal and started writing. “Another held a flask.” Her gaze met mine. “Food and water seem to be fine.”
“Alright,” Maddox said. “Here’s what we’re going to do. We’re going to—”
“What were you saying?” Bryson growled over Maddox, his attention on me. “Let’s hear it before we do anything else.”
Maddox flushed and bit his lips together, sending me a glare.
A vine slithered over the top of the ridge, its tip swaying like a snake about to strike. We froze, gaping up at it. The plant paused before dipping down to pretty much sniff the tops of our heads.
We didn’t breathe. Panic threatened to make me leap up and bolt, but I made myself remain still.
Thuds rang out from the meadow, coming our way, and when a guy holding a hammer rushed past us, the vine snapped out, stabbing through his chest, the tip emerging from the other side. He blinked down at it writhing inside his body, the hammer falling from his hand. A groan, and he toppled forward.
The vine yanked itself out of him with a slurping sound before looping around his ankle and dragging him into the dense vegetation. Bushes erupted not long after, followed by silence.
We all shared wide-eyed looks.
Kerralyn held a hand over her mouth while she dry-heaved.
A man screamed nearby, the sound ending in a wet gurgle. I flinched, bile rising up my throat. The smell of blood and plant rot, and the horrifyingly sweet scent of flowers that had grown fat on human flesh swirled around us. I swallowed hard, fighting the urge to throw up.
“If we go one at a time,” I said, leaning over to scan the clearing where flowers had retreated into deceptively innocent buds, “we should draw less attention.”
“Or they’ll be able to pick us off one by one,” Maddox said.
I huffed. “Do you have any other ideas?”
He glanced toward where the group of three had disappeared into the forest. “Getting out of here before I become meat.”
Bryson nodded my way, ignoring Maddox. “This is a wise plan. Move slowly. Nothing sudden. Take what’s safe. Then we run, staying together.” He tilted his head toward the thick tree line.
Fara rose, though she remained bent over enough to stay hidden. “I’ll go first.” Her half-smile wavered. “I’m good at following directions.”
We crowded along the side of the low wall to watch. When she reached the tables, she paused, keeping her hands visible.
“Bread,” she said, reaching for a loaf and a pack she stuffed it into. “Just taking bread.”
The blossom to her right remained closed, but I could almost feel it watching.
“Dried meat,” she said. “Water flask.” She stuffed each item into the bag.
The canopy beyond the tables quivered.
She froze, her hand over an apple.
When nothing snapped out, she started feverishly dragging food off the table into her open bag. Pivoting, she hurried back to join us, tears streaking down her face.
“That was horrible,” she whimpered, dropping her pack on the ground. “I never want to do something like that again.”
The rest of us got up and rounded the wall. One by one, we grabbed food and carefully placed it in bags.
I waited until last, watching the remaining recruits from other groups who’d figured out the pattern. We weren’t the only ones who’d survived, but our numbers had dwindled. Bodies lay scattered across the meadow, some half-consumed, others broken and unmoving.
A man in his thirties approached the weapons’ table, his gaze fixed on a serrated hunting knife.
“Don’t,” I called.
Maddox, of all people, surged forward. He knocked the man’s hand away before it brushed steel. A vine whipped down, but they dove to the ground, tumbling across the grass. The vine followed, undulating like a serpent above them before retreating into the forest.
“Food and water, you idiot,” Maddox snarled, getting up off the ground. “Unless you want to die like the rest.”
The man rose to his feet and bolted into the woods, empty-handed.
I hurried to the tables and stuffed a pack with food and water, focusing on dried things, flasks that sloshed to show they were full.
Anything that wouldn’t go bad fast, because I had a feeling this was only the start of the Rite of Bonds.
Returning to the others hidden behind the wall, I dropped to the ground, my legs too shaky to support me.
We shared nervous glances before rising and turning toward the dark, looming forest.
“How many do you think are left?” Jaxon asked, squinting toward the open meadow now filled with eerie silence. “It was a massacre.”
“Yeah, and why?” Bryson said. “There must be a reason. People who show magical aptitude are rare. We’re treasured. Honored. Not murdered.”
Except in my court.
And it appeared, in Syllavar.
“Maybe they’ll tell us when we’re warriors,” Derren said.
Lexie nodded along with him. “There better be a good reason or I’ll be the one going on a rampage.”
“I’m with you,” I said, and the rest of our group murmured agreement. Other than Kerralyn, who was recording details in her journal.
A rustling rang out from the forest, and the foliage parted, revealing a narrow path leading into the woods.
I caught Lexie’s eye, then Bryson’s, no words needed. We gathered our packs and jogged toward the path.
I half-expected Jaxon to make another joke, but he met my eyes, saying nothing.
We stumbled into the forest that reeked of rot and blood. One in our group softly sobbed. Lexie was swearing. My fingers wouldn’t stop trembling.
I shot one last look back through the opening yawning like a throat that had just swallowed dozens of lives.
The cinderhawk was perched on the top of the wall where we’d hidden, light slanting across its silvery feathers.
Unmoving.
Watching me.
Most birds would’ve fled at the screams or the first scent of blood. But this one had stayed, tracking my every movement with an intensity that made my skin prickle.
It was just a bird. Wild creatures were curious about carnage. But those eyes…
The hawk dipped its head and launched itself toward the meadow.
I didn’t say a word as I turned away. Only clenched my teeth and followed the others into the vegetation, pretending I didn’t feel the weight of unseen eyes on my spine.
The forest swallowed us, cool shadows replacing the harsh sunlight of the meadow. Ferns brushed my legs, and the canopy closed overhead, sealing us in green twilight.
We hadn’t won a damn thing, but we’d survived.
For now.
I was beginning to think that in itself was a miracle.