CHAPTER NINE
The remaining four grew far more vigilant after the deaths of the first two.
One out of those four happened to have stronger flames than the rest, easing the burden of lighting the way for the other three.
It was impossible for her to melt the ice under all their feet at once—it was too risky for the others to avoid getting burnt.
Regret burned brightest in the determined set of her jaw. She should have gone first.
She could, however, aim that fire at what attacked their ankles. And she was spectacular at it.
Her flames illuminated the culprits. Decaying, moth-eaten vines, perhaps once green but now a lifeless, dull mixture of yellowed brown and ashy grey. They were rotten only in appearance, still strong enough to latch onto whoever wasn’t paying enough attention.
Each time the vines shot out, she shot back with just as much vigor, the former loosening an eerie hissing noise as the flames touched them.
When she missed, the fingers in her opposite hand twitched, reminding me of a conductor at the head of a symphony.
Taming them with another element, I realized, as the movement of the vines grew sloppier.
Slower. A true demonstration of what it meant to partake in the Starlight Trials.
Master every element. Use them to survive.
And most importantly, weaponize them. Use them as a means to destruction and victory.
She managed to protect her three remaining allies, all of them placing their faith in her capabilities. Reserving their own magic for what was to come.
“They will not survive long,” Kodhan surmised, face unreadable.
“They will be the ones we need to avoid,” I corrected him.
“Not if I handle them first.”
Brannon interlocked his fingers behind his head. “And the real fun begins.” The gesture was casual, but the tightness along his shoulders was unmistakable. He was more than ready for a fight.
“You wouldn’t steal all the fun, would you darling?” Theia rested a hand on Brannon’s arm, but her attention was solely fixed on the four competitors ahead. A lethal sort of hunger glinted in her eyes.
“I wouldn’t dare.”
I flattened any expression from my face. This wasn’t just any game. Our lives were at stake. The balance had to tip in our favor, always. And if this was how we would achieve it, then so be it.
The remaining competitors began to gather at our backs because of how long it was taking the ones in front of us to cross. And they did not look patient.
Kodhan leaned forward, speaking quietly so none of the others could overhear. “You three need to cross first. I can melt the ice and keep those vines at bay, but I need to be able to see all of it. I’ll stay here and cross when you’ve all reached the other side.”
“That’s too dangerous, brother. Even for you,” Brannon warned, eyes darting over Kodhan’s shoulder, to the growing number of bodies that could easily outnumber him if they wished.
Worry lines bracketed Theia’s mouth. “You’ll exert yourself by using so much magic at once.”
“I’ll be fine. I’ve handled much worse than a few vines and some ice,” Kodhan insisted, waving a dismissive hand at the people behind us. “And far worse than that.”
I wondered what, exactly, he’d handled that made him so sure he could take on everything at once. But asking would only betray my curiosity. “If he says he’ll be fine, we should take his word.”
Kodhan’s lips tipped upwards. “You’re agreeing with me.”
“I want to get through this stars-forsaken trial. If you take on more than you can handle, that will be your fault. If your friends die because you were too far up your own ass, then that will be your fault, too.” I roughly shoved a finger into his chest, forcing him back a step.
Any semblance of a smile faded from his face. Instead, that muscle ticked in his jaw again. “None of you are doing to die.”
“Then it’s settled. Let’s get moving.” I pulled my hand back. But the rest of me lingered, as if tethered to the heat he steadily emitted.
Brannon nodded reluctantly and faced the first swinging axe. “Keep me warm,” he said without looking back.
“I’ll properly flay your boots this time,” Kodhan tossed back half-heartedly, but his eyes were still trained on me.
I looked away first, though only because Brannon’s answering laugh was so full, so genuine, that it pierced through the endless layers of stone encased around my heart like an arrow. I couldn’t stand the idea of him watching me bleed.
Ignoring Kodhan’s inquisitive gaze entirely, I fixed my attention solely on the spot between Brannon’s shoulder blades. Snatched the wound he’d created by its neck and strangled any warmth from it until only empty, desperate cold remained. Then used it to repair the cracks.
In my periphery, Kodhan gave Theia’s hand a reassuring squeeze before filling his lungs with a mighty breath. On his exhale, the entire path went up in flames. Exactly like the tower.
“Go,” he barked.
Brannon didn’t need to be told twice. He moved, nimbly making it past two axes before stopping between the third and fourth.
He showed no signs of pain despite the inferno at his feet. And despite Kodhan’s threat, his boots remained intact. As did his pants.
“Be careful,” Theia warned Kodhan, who only hummed in response, before stepping into the flames. She avoided the first axe with fluid ease. And while she waited for Brannon to advance further, her fingers toyed with the flames. Like she was certain they wouldn’t hurt her.
I couldn’t say the same.
My mind screamed at me to back away. This was fire I was stepping into.
Certain death, or at the very least, a promise of very nasty burns.
But my body remembered. Remembered the way those flames had planted feather-light kisses across my skin.
Had beckoned to me for another taste of what it was like to skirt the edges of death and remain unscathed.
The force of the axes felt even worse up close. I avoided the first one and stood still before the second, strands of my hair lifting on their cold wind of momentum.
I needed my focus to remain unwavering. But the soft tingle of the flames seemed to sing my name, with whisper-soft caresses trailing along my shins and outer-thighs.
I should’ve been concerned. Should’ve been disgusted.
Power like that—the ability to manipulate such a dangerous element in a way that made it seem so inviting, was cause for worry.
Yet I couldn’t bring myself to feel anything other than awe. That, and a bitter twinge of jealousy that rimmed the tips of my ears pink.
I made it past three more pendulums before pain flared along my right thigh. Hissing, I glared down at my leg. The material of my pants remained intact, but, stars, it burned.
“It’s a little hot over here, brother!” Brannon called from his spot ahead. “I didn’t think you were serious about the boots!”
Burning me was one thing. But Kodhan wouldn’t voluntarily hurt Brannon. Something was wrong.
I spun on my heel at the next swing of the pendulums at my front and back.
Brows furrowing in question, Theia copied my movement, whirling around to face the platform we’d been standing on. I expected her to gasp at what we saw. To panic. To finally use her magic. I did not expect her to merely sigh with annoyance. Which was exactly what she did.
“How dreadfully inconvenient.”
Kodhan was fighting for his life.
Water surged at him in pressurized beams, molding and splitting into several smaller waves every time he managed to evade them. Those he did not evade, he met with fire, those collisions shooting streams of vapor into the air, clouding around the platform in a heavy mist.
The fight was taking too much of his concentration. He couldn’t focus on protecting himself and us at the same time.
Brannon blew away the next vine that shot at my ankles since Kodhan missed it completely. And the pain in my leg was creeping past the point that I could endure while standing still.
“Do something,” I begged. He could use his wind to blow Kodhan’s assailant off balance. Or even off the platform. Anything. Any of it was far better than waiting for something to happen.
The only thing I could do.
But Brannon didn’t need to lift a single finger.
Kodhan’s attacker halted his downpour, hands hovering mid-strike as his eyes widened. He then began to slowly back away from Kodhan, face drawing into a slack-jawed, silent scream of terror. Towards the edge of the platform.
I squinted, trying to make out what he could possibly be backing away from through the vapor, but only Kodhan stood nearby, whole and unaffected.
He didn’t waste the opportunity. Kodhan struck, grabbing the water-wielder by the throat. Brought him inches from the drop below, then lifted him until only his toes touched wood.
Leaning inches away from the man’s face, he hissed a warning I couldn’t read off his lips, not with how heavily the vapor shrouded them.
But the water-wielder didn’t appear to understand a word he said.
He grappled at Kodhan’s arms, his entire body screaming what he couldn’t, not with his airflow restricted.
And that was terror shining in his eyes.
“What’s wrong with him?” I asked quietly. I spared a quick glance at Maverick, whose head was turned, speaking to a member of court I couldn’t name.
“Does it matter?”
The hairs on the backs of my arms stood on end at Theia’s flat tone. Completely devoid of her usual warmth.
The water-wielder did scream, then. Or at least tried to. Fire painted a downwards path from Kodhan’s hand, turning the man into a beacon of light amongst the cloud of steam.
That was when Kodhan let him go.
His feet did not find purchase—they slipped off the edge completely. It did not take long for him to be swallowed by the darkness below. He gutted out like a match. Lost forever.
“No.” The reply was small. Grated against the lump lodged within the back of my throat. “I suppose it doesn’t.”