CHAPTER NINE #2
Kodhan turned to the others who’d stood by and watched. Spat something I couldn’t hear over the audience, whose cheers returned with full force, and drew a line of fire between him and them. The flames were small, but significant.
Cross it, and die, they said.
No one did.
The heat that had been eating away at my limbs cooled so suddenly that my bones were left barren and chilled.
Kodhan graced us with a one-shouldered shrug. “Got distracted,” he mouthed.
Rolling my eyes, I turned back around before he could step past the first axe. Bastard.
A stray thought swam through the outer premises of my mind, housing a question I would likely never gain the answer to.
The Son of the Second had a reputation of violence, and a father that could order the death of those that crossed him without further doubt.
That man chose to attack him knowing fully well who he was.
Didn’t hesitate once Kodhan found himself without the close help of his allies.
So what had he been so afraid of?
He’d suddenly stared at Kodhan as though he’d morphed into a nightmare made flesh. But he’d been the only one to look at him like that. And his appearance hadn’t changed in the slightest.
Perhaps Maverick had intervened after all.
Had used mind-magic to confuse the water-wielder, to allow the son of his Second enough time to gain the upper hand.
Though that raised the question as to why, exactly, he would choose to do so in the first place.
Was it for the same reasons he’d given me that hint?
Because of close connections? Or was it because his Second had asked him to?
To my knowledge, Maverick never assisted in any way. Which might’ve been cause for worry if I didn’t have more important things to think about. Like deadly, massive swinging axes. So I tucked my suspicion away. But only for the time being.
With nothing left to distract Kodhan, the rest of the axes were relatively easy to evade, and the path easier to cross.
His fire kept the ice melted while burning every vine that came at us.
Because of him, we managed to squeeze through unscathed—though not without the ire of the crowd that left the air tasting acidic.
Luckily, it didn’t last long. They perked up again as soon as Kodhan’s flames disappeared, leaving the rest of the competitors to fend for themselves.
Brannon seemed to have an even shorter span of patience than mine. “Answers, now,” he demanded the moment Kodhan reached us.
“Are you alright?” Kodhan asked instead, giving us each a once-over. His gaze lingered on the curve of my jaw. The slope of my cheeks.
Theia extended her hands out in front of her. “Nothing that can’t be healed with time.” Angry red welts blotched the skin of her fingers.
Brannon gave his friend the kind of shove that would’ve sent lesser men flying. Then took Theia’s hands in his own to inspect them.
“I’m sorry.” For once, Kodhan sounded sincere. His gaze softened, an expression so unbefitting to him that I had to blink twice, if only to make sure I was seeing him clearly.
“I know,” Theia reassured him, slipping her hands out of Brannon’s to hide them out of view behind her back. Likely to dampen Brannon’s rage lest he continued to inspect them. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“It is his damned fault.” Brannon took another step towards Kodhan, fists clenching and unclenching like he wasn’t sure whether to shove him again, or to start swinging.
The Dome protected against any outside elements. But the wind that picked up stray bits of my hair promised torrential storms and misery.
“And you know just as well that I would never purposely hurt either of you, brother.” Kodhan reached out, setting a hand on one of Brannon’s tense shoulders.
“He took me by surprise. And was stronger than I’d ever like to admit.
Almost got me, the bastard,” he chuckled, but I couldn’t find it in myself to share his humor.
If there was a facet of magic that I did not envy, it was how it could feed on emotions just as much as it could feed into emotions. It left no mercy, not even for the kindest souls.
Theia set a reddened hand on his other shoulder, gazing up at him with such tenderness that I had to look away, feeling as though I impinged on something private. “It was an accident, Brannon. I’ll be fine,” she said, softly. “Kodhan is not the enemy.”
At that, Brannon’s stance deflated slowly, anger dissipating as he released a long, controlled breath, the wind dying down with it. Lips pressed into a tight line, he clapped Kodhan on the back, twice, in semblance of an apology. No words were needed, it seemed.
Kodhan squeezed Brannon’s shoulder one last time before turning to face me again, his face settling back into its regular hard lines and stony displeasure.
My right thigh continuously throbbed, sending shockwaves of pain throughout the rest of my leg. “I’m fine.”
“She’s lying,” Theia stated. “No one can be fine with a leg looking like that.”
It took everything to not look down. Crossing my arms over my chest, I schooled my features into as much neutrality as I could muster.
“It doesn’t matter. We need to keep moving before trouble catches up to us.
” I began to cross the length of the platform but almost instantly collided with hard muscle.
“You’re limping.”
Kodhan’s hands came up to grab my own as they settled on his chest to push him away.
“Let go of me.”
He did no such thing. Standing this close, his leg brushed mine, the material of his clothing grating on burnt flesh. My gasp of pain was too quick for me to swallow.
“I hurt you.” Goosebumps, like hundreds of tiny spider’s feet, skittered down my spine at his low tone.
“And what of it? You were distracted, and I can still walk. Now move,” I insisted. Heat prickled the corners of my eyes. The friction against my inflamed skin was too much.
He slowly loosened his grip on my hands, removing one finger at a time. Even slower was the step backwards he took from me. “He threatened to kill you.”
Shock gripped my tongue with cold, numbing talons.
“He meant to send one of his waves at you once the next vine came snapping at your ankles. So I dealt with him.”
“He won’t be the last one to try and kill me. Others will fight for the chance.”
“Then I will deal with them also.”
“Why?”
“Because we are allies.”
Allies. A part of me glowed at that—at the way it sounded like he would protect me because we were truly allies, as he said. Because he cared. But the larger, rational part of me contorted into an ugly, roaring thing that sounded every warning bell it could find.
He’s going to kill you. And he’s going to enjoy every second of it.
“If you’re expecting a thank you, you’re not going to get one.”
“On the contrary, little viper. I’ve come to learn how little manners you possess,” he drawled in return.
“If you two are quite finished,” Theia called from further across the platform. “We still have a trial to complete.”