Chapter 12
“Let’s go,” I say roughly to Zane, after washing my bloody hands in the river. I walk past him.
Bury it down. I try, with every step I fight to forget, because crying would only slow my journey. My emotions are only distractions.
The quest must come first.
We spot the tree from miles away. It’s sticking up from the center of the forest, its trunk thicker and taller than a tower.
But that’s not the part that makes my breath catch. No, it’s the ring of flying creatures, soaring above its crown so quickly, their scales turn into smears of light.
Any of them could help us finish this quest.
First, though, we have to reach them.
“How are we supposed to climb that?” I ask Zane, taking in the height of the tree. “I’ve never—I don’t have much experience climbing.” The highest I’ve ever been is up to the ruins on the hill.
He glances over at me. “Lucky for you, I know a thing or two about it.”
The Beast Tree’s roots begin at the edge of the forest. We follow them like a map. They’re enormous, winding in and out of the ground like a massive stitch all the way to the town-sized shadow beneath the oak.
I swallow as I stare up at the hundreds of feet above, not knowing how the hell I’m going to climb this.
Every hard thing is conquered in steps. That’s what Stellan would say. I just have to be brave enough to take the first one.
With a steadying breath, I do—before Zane roughly drags me out of the way, grip tight enough to bruise. “What—”
A body lands right where I was standing.
The limbs are twisted. The bones are snapped like twigs. Blood pours out of a shattered jaw. He’s one of the challengers. One of Cadoc’s friends.
“They’re here,” I breathe. They’re trying to get creatures. They’re failing.
Fear sinks into my chest, but it’s quickly smothered by fury.
He killed Stellan. He stole his blade.
I look up. He’s somewhere up there.
I make the decision right then. When I get the chance, I’m going to kill him.
“Look,” Zane says, and that’s when I see all the bodies, spread out in a ring that reflects the band of winged creatures above.
Challengers. A half dozen of them. Clearly, we weren’t the only ones with this idea.
Did immortals tell them about the tree? Was it written on pages they brought over?
I look away from the broken bones and blood, Xara’s warning flashing through my mind.
She didn’t think this was a smart plan. But we made it too far to turn around now.
I climb the pile of roots, then press my hand against the bark.
It’s as rough as the stone pillars of the ruins, ancient—yet still alive.
I look up, squinting through buttery beams of sunlight, taking in the short, twisted branches above.
They get thicker and longer higher up, until they’re as sturdy as bridges.
“Ready?” Zane says next to me.
“Not at all.” Here goes nothing. I jump, trying to reach the lowest branch. My fingers don’t even brush the bark.
Well, fuck. I look around for something to step on.
Zane takes a few steps back. Then he runs, jumps, and buries his ax into the branch. It stays put, even as he groans, using his weapon for purchase as he pulls himself up, inch by inch.
When he’s over the side, he turns and offers his hand.
No going back now.
I run and jump just like he did, reaching out—
And his fingers lock around mine.
I gasp with pain as my entire body hangs below me, just like it did during the Culling. Zane groans again, then pulls me up, little by little, until I collapse next to him.
“We can’t do that the whole time,” I tell him through ragged breaths. There are limits to what a body can take, especially after everything we’ve done since the platform.
He looks up. “It’s a good thing we won’t have to.”
I follow his gaze, and relief rushes through me. Stairs are carved into the bark, wrapping around and around the trunk in massive spirals.
That relief quickly curdles behind my ribs. Entire steps are missing. The way they’re slanted makes it almost impossible to climb down. I swallow. There are only two ways off the Beast Tree—on the back of a creature … or falling to your death.
Zane motions me forward.
I take the first step.
There’s no railing, of course. If I lose my balance, I fall. I don’t look over the edge. I just focus on every stair and the weight of my blade clanging against my back with every movement.
It claimed me. It saw something in me worth saving. Hopefully, during my plunge, a creature will see the same.
I take another step—and a scream sounds to my side, sending me stumbling forward in shock.
My knees hit the stairs, pain spiraling up my legs. I turn toward the noise, just in time to see a blur of color. It’s followed by a thud.
Another challenger who didn’t get picked.
Pulse racing, I straighten and keep climbing. The screams happen every few hours. I don’t look again. I keep my gaze on the next stair, and my hand against the trunk, leaning part of my weight against it.
Sweat spills a river down my back as the heat intensifies, then fades away. At least the rain didn’t reach these steps. I would have slipped off hours ago. My worn boots manage to hold on. My stomach grumbles, but I ignore it. My throat is dry, but I’m used to that.
I just keep climbing.
The melodic screeches above, from winged creatures, get louder, and that’s how I know we’re getting close. I make it a few more steps, before finally taking a break, bracing my palm against the bark, breathing heavily.
Fuck. If I didn’t already hate stairs from my near-death encounter yesterday … I despise them even more now. My calves burn. My lungs feel like they’re shriveling up. I glance to my side and see we’ve reached the thick, higher branches. Finally.
I risk a look over my shoulder. Zane’s leaning against his knees, shaking his head. His gaze flicks up to mine. “Stairs suck, don’t they?”
“They really fucking do,” I say, and he cracks a smile.
I almost smile back.
But that’s when I see movement in the foliage in the closest branch. A rustle, then …
Eyes. Blinking back at me.
“Zane—”
“I see them.”
Slowly, a creature creeps forward, out of the shadows of the leaves … and my shoulders melt. Oh. It’s just a small, rounded fuzzy animal with big, sad eyes. It looks at us curiously.
Cute. I turn back around, break over. I take another step.
And the circle of fur launches itself at me, mouth open, revealing razor-sharp teeth.
Shit. I move at the last moment, and it hits the trunk. It slides down, before unveiling claws that find purchase, carving lines into the thick wood. It turns to look at me in a flash, growling.
“Really?” I yell. “The climbing wasn’t hard enough?”
I bolt up the steps, Zane at my heels. Another one launches itself, just missing my face. Its jaw snaps, and I stumble to the side before finding my footing again.
There’s a missing step ahead. I jump over it, teetering, barely dodging another set of flying teeth. I turn to warn Zane.
But he’s looking at the creatures. He misses the step, loses his balance—
And falls over the edge.
NO.
I lunge forward.
And catch his hand. He nearly pulls me over the side with him, but I manage to dig my sword into the stairs, rooting us.
“Don’t let go,” Zane says, dark eyes wide.
“I wasn’t planning on it,” I say through my teeth. My shoulder screams. My arm is at risk of getting pulled out of its socket.
Then one of the creatures leaps from the branches, and bites Zane’s shoulder, teeth going right through muscle.
His yell of agony echoes through the tree. His fingers slip—
I grip them harder. I lean back, kick the creature off him and clench my jaw as I pull and pull. He’s too heavy. Especially with his weapon.
“You—you have to let it go,” I say, straining, one hand on my blade, keeping us on the tree, the other clutching his.
He knows what I mean. He shakes his head. “I—I can’t.”
“I don’t—I don’t want to have to let you go,” I say, my voice a ragged whisper.
I will let you go are the words I won’t say. But he knows. He knows.
We made a pact.
Zane’s eyes harden. I hope he isn’t going to try to use his ax to stay on, when doing so could crumble the entire step below my feet. He reaches behind him … and drops it. It falls, then crashes. But not far. We both hear it bury itself in one of the branches below.
It’s not lost. Not completely. Though climbing down would be its own death sentence.
I pull him up without the added weight, then collapse against the steps, gasping. The creatures shriek. They’re still rising from the branches, right at us.
Zane turns. “My ax—”
“Come on,” I say, urging him forward.
He follows. Mercifully, he follows. We run up each step, panting, until finally the creatures give up their chase. We don’t stop. Not until the branches thin—and the sun is searing my scalp as we surface.
The top. We made it. The crown of the tree is as steady as the ground, thick leaves and branches solid below our boots. I take a tentative few steps.
A shriek peels through the air, loud as thunder. I look up and my jaw goes slack.
The ring of creatures is a mesmerizing band of color as the animals bleed together, following a single path.
Dragons. Most of the creatures are dragons, of all different shades.
Some are iridescent, their scales gleaming beneath the sun.
Others are spiked. Some have wings that look like shards of stained glass.
Their sizes range from large as a hill to small as a cart.
Some of the creatures aren’t dragons at all. Some are massive beaked birds.
“Helmhawks,” Zane whispers, sinking to his knees. “This—this is where they went.” His eyes glisten. “A century years ago … during the Questral. That’s when they left. I should have known …”
I put my hand on his shoulder. We did it. We made it here.
But we’re not alone.
A group of challengers waits by the edge of the treetop, at the fringe of its greenery. I instinctively reach for my sword—but Cadoc and his friends are not among them.