Chapter 9
A Poison Garden
‘C limb that?’ I ask incredulously, staring up at the cliff face. ‘Absolutely not.’
‘It’s a way that hopefuls train,’ Alden says, pointing at it, then at the other hopefuls preparing to scale the cliff nearby.
Some routes seem harder, but it looks like we are starting with a shorter climb, with no jutting rocks and plenty of foot and hand rungs.
‘You learn dexterity of movement, how to conquer your fears and how to trust your partner. It’s called the wall. ’
‘Trust you?’ I say, turning to him and snorting. ‘Unlikely.’
He shrugs, crossing his arms over his sculpted chest. He’s changed into a white, tight-fitting top and I’m struggling not to stare.
No one should look that good at this hour.
I swallow thickly, remembering the man I met in the bar, body pressed close, lips hot against mine.
Gods, it’s a struggle to focus. ‘Then walk back up the steps and fail your first attempt at the wall before you’ve even tried,’ he continues, snapping me out of my daydream as I catch him running an appraising eye over my own outfit.
‘My brother told me this was a great training exercise for the Ordeals, but if those skin-tight workout clothes are purely for show and not for actually working out …’
I sigh deeply, readjusting the top I’m wearing.
Alden said to wear workout clothes, so I donned one of my sleeveless beige tops and skin-tight leggings, along with shoes that are supple and good for training.
I’m no stranger to exercise, it’s ingrained into me to train, but this, scaling a cliff ?
It’s not even breakfast time yet, the sun just lightening the world around us, and my stomach tightens.
I calculate the drop if I fall and realise that anywhere past the halfway mark would not end well. Broken bones at the least, at most …
‘Map the route. Let’s get this over with.’
Alden suppresses a smile, talking me through the route we’re going to take. Then he drops his hands to a potful of chalk and indicates for me to do the same.
‘Illusionists first,’ he says and I release a small sigh, eyeing the shallow, barely there rungs protruding from the rock. They’re set out at intervals, like a complex ladder, and I roll my shoulders, preparing for the climb. And begin.
When I’m only a few feet off the ground, I make the mistake of looking down.
Alden has taken a route adjacent to my own, and he’s already placing his feet and hands with practised ease, body flush to the cliff face.
I do the same, blowing a stray thread of hair from my eyes, and reach for the next rung, then the next.
It becomes more challenging as the rungs grow more spaced out, the cliff becoming more sheer.
I force myself to breathe in, breathe out, my limbs beginning to shake from the exertion. I am surrounded by fresh air, endless sea and sky. I’m still free. I can do this.
‘How are you holding up, DeWinter?’ Alden calls over, already level with me. We’re about halfway up, around the point that I would calculate a fall would snap a bone or two, but might not be fatal.
‘Oh, great. This is just so easy, isn’t it?’
He huffs a laugh, moving past me as he actually leaps for the next rung, swinging his body up. I force a few shallow breaths past my lips, fingertips growing hot and clammy. The thought of that fall, the rock beneath us, the sickening crunch of bone …
‘Just focus on the next placement. Nothing beyond that,’ he says softly and I realise he’s paused his ascent, watching me. ‘Just the next rung, the next exhale and inhale. You’re almost there.’
‘I don’t … need …’ I swallow, determination flaring inside me as I grip the next rung, bringing my left foot up and easing my body up a few more inches.
The granite scrapes against my ribs as a cold breeze wafts the scent of brine and stone around us.
It reminds me of where I am and somehow, I am grounded again. ‘Your help.’
‘The point of a partner, DeWinter, is to be able to rely on them, just as they will rely on you. You have to trust them. Work with them, and not against them. Now place your right foot on that rung … yes, that one.’
I inch upwards, body braced against the rock, and feel the coil of worry over falling loosen slightly in my middle.
I remind myself that the fear is in my head.
I’m strong enough, and I can do this. With that in mind, I swing for the next handhold, and pull myself up.
‘Why did you pick me as your partner? You could have chosen anyone. You could have chosen an alchemist, or another botanist—’
‘For starters, there are no alchemists amongst out cohort,’ he says smoothly, moving his body as I do, so we are aligned, so we are inching our way up together.
I brace my weight on one leg, feeling my way up with the other, and gain the advantage.
‘Second, I grew up around several of the hopefuls here, and none of them appealed. I know the way their minds work, the way they calculate and weigh risk, how they wield. But you …’ He bites his lip, gripping the next handhold, and glances at me as I widen the gap between us.
I look down at him and his eyes flare wide, a smile forming on his lips.
‘You’re not like the others. Your mind works differently.
No one I know would have thought to thrust their hand into that fireplace in the Crucible.
You weighed up the options and took a calculated risk. Your deduction was impressive. Bold.’
‘So it’s not just about keeping your rivals close?’ I say and realise I’m beginning to enjoy this climb. Finding the rhythm of the exercise, I reach for a rung that cuts across his path, forcing him to move across and take mine. Then I look down at him and wink. ‘Do you need me to wait for you?’
He grins, flexing for the next rung, just as I bring up my left foot and push upwards.
‘I like the view just as it is, DeWinter. You carry on. Look at it this way, I could have chosen to make an enemy out of you in this place, and hope what I saw in you in the Crucible wasn’t used against me in one of the Ordeals.
Or, I could choose to mitigate the risk, the threat you posed as a wild card, and claim all that potential for myself. Plus, I like looking at you.’
He reaches again just as I choke out a laugh, bracing himself, and as his fingers close around the rung, it crumbles away in his hand. He swears, his body peeling away from the cliff and I gasp, reaching across for him without thinking.
‘Don’t, you’ll lose your footing—’
I stumble on one of my footholds and immediately grab for the rung again, heart thundering against my ribs.
I close my eyes, breathing in and out, a faint buzzing starting in my ears, heat then cold flushing through me in waves.
‘Please tell me you’re fine and haven’t died,’ I say through gritted teeth.
‘I’m fine and I didn’t die,’ he says. ‘But I appreciate the sentiment.’
I smile, shaking my head and wait for him to draw level with me again before we complete the last few feet of the course together.
Wriggling ungracefully over the edge, I collapse on my back, staring up at the sky.
Sweat cools against my skin and I begin to shiver, rolling up to stand and face him.
He’s just standing there, arms crossed, watching me and I realise, this was a test.
And I can’t help it, I start to laugh. ‘You absolute … you did that on purpose! Loosening the rung, pretending to nearly fall. Why?’
He shrugs and smiles back. ‘To see how you’d react, I guess. If you were partner material, like I hoped. How strong you are. But now, I guess I know your weakness.’
I huff out a breath, pushing my hair behind my ears. ‘And what’s that?’
‘You care too much, too quickly. I’m a strategist, DeWinter, and if you, my wild card, are going to be a solid partner, I need you to focus on working with me to get through the first Ordeal.
No saving anyone else. No distractions.’ He shrugs, that dimple appearing again in windswept, ruddy cheeks.
‘Has no one ever told you to just let a dying man drop?’
‘And be reassigned to someone like Mallory?’
‘Are you saying you’re glad I chose you, DeWinter?’ he says with mock seriousness.
‘Depends if you can pull your weight. Who says I’m not a strategist too?’ I say quietly. ‘What is it you have to offer me , besides a fine pair of abs?’
He grins wickedly. ‘You think my abs are fine?’
‘I think your head is disproportionately large, but …’
He shakes his head, chuckling and begins to walk away.
‘How about you tell me about the poisons I need to be aware of? You’re a botanist! Surely that’s my weakness, and your strength? Prove to me you’re the partner I need, Locke!’
‘Let me worry about the details, DeWinter. You just keep that pretty head of yours in the first Ordeal and follow my instructions. Now I know you’re strong enough and I won’t have to carry you, we’re good,’ he tosses over his shoulder before disappearing around the corner of the castle.
Keep my pretty head?! I huff indignantly. How dare he. I am no liability. I’ll be damned if I’ll follow his instructions . What an arse. A damn good-looking arse, but still. And if he won’t tell me what he knows about poisons, I guess I’ll uncover that knowledge myself.
‘Found anything that’ll help you through it yet?
’ Tessa asks, soto voce , as she slides into a seat next to me at lunch in Gantry Hall.
She tears into a roll and ladles herself out some roast vegetable soup, sniffing cautiously before dunking in the bread.
I guess we’re all still on edge after what happened at the welcome reception.