CHAPTER ELEVEN
Sometimes, Gideon and I spent days on the same maneuver until I finally got it right.
If I couldn’t grasp a specific movement the way he wanted me to, he would keep me in the training room until I lost consciousness.
A particular angle to a very precise punch to the gut.
A certain twist one must perform on a finger to break it irreparably.
Where to hit critical joints and exactly how not to get hit in said critical joints.
All of it, I had to learn. No matter the cost.
But there was one thing we went over the most. One lesson that took months and months for me to perfect. He’d yelled, I’d cried. I’d swung at him on several occasions. He’d swung back. I ruined many shoes by heaving half-eaten lunches onto them. He made sure to hammer one lesson into me like iron.
How to stay on my feet, no matter the circumstance.
I couldn’t brace my fall with my hands—they’d end up impaled. The only other option was to use parts of me that could handle damage without making it fatal.
I twisted, right leg shooting out blindly. My left followed suit, taking me all but a step forward before I cried out in pain. My right leg hooked onto a jagged spike, shredding along the very same spot that had gotten burned from Kodhan’s fire. And stayed there.
I was stuck, metal digging into sinew and muscle.
A scream gathered at the base of my throat. I quickly braced part of my weight onto my left foot as my right leg—now burned and torn—held the rest of it. It had slowed my fall, but the wound was deep.
I only hoped it didn’t hit bone.
Tears blurred my already limited vision. Letting them trail down my face, I blinked to clear them faster. There would be no evading death again if I fell because I couldn’t see. It would collect its bounty whether I wanted it to or not.
Stars, we were so close.
“Run, Eloise!” Theia shouted.
Bile surged up my throat, replacing the scream.
Run. Could I run?
My vision almost went completely white as I pulled my leg off the sharp point of the spike, a gasp racking my lungs so violently I choked.
My stomach wavered, threatening to pour its contents out onto the platform.
I couldn’t run. Not truly, with the state of my leg.
But I shot into motion anyway, forcing myself forward.
I would not die here.
Nodes of smoke and ash flooded the air as a snarl echoed too close for comfort.
A wave of fire, taller than Maverick himself, washed over me, threatening to stop me in my tracks.
Then another followed, faster than I could blink.
The beast at my heel snarled, but my head remained attached to my shoulders.
Shadows hated light. And as their essence, the beasts couldn’t fight their instincts to stay away from it.
Gideon’s voice ricocheted against each corner of my mind, louder than the crowd above. Keep pushing!
And I did. I ignored how my leg screamed and begged for me to stop. Pushed until the scalding pain turned into a dull, throbbing ache numbed by the adrenaline pumping through my veins. A temporary stitch, a needle weaving thread into the fabric of my being.
I didn’t dare look back. Kodhan’s fire still billowed behind me like a golden cloak, so he had to have been close by.
I danced over and around the blades, my toes grazing dangerously close to their ends too many times for comfort. When the mist finally parted, the platform clear of any trace of metal, I nearly collapsed, trembling like a leaf would on a storm’s wind.
A gentle arm wrapped around me, helping me stay upright. “Eloise! Gods, are you alright?” Theia’s concern was a warm blanket thrown over my shoulders.
No, I was not alright. But lying required too much effort, and I was running low on fumes.
Mutely, I nodded my head once, a tense jerk of my chin.
Then I straightened and watched as the shadows lashed out at the remaining competitors.
They’d quickly discovered that the best way to get past the beasts was to overwhelm them.
The beasts couldn’t attack everyone simultaneously, so they’d separated, leaving one for each group.
Taking on one beast was a great deal easier than taking on all six at once, I supposed. But if one group decided to betray everyone else, it would end in disaster.
I shook myself out of Theia’s hold. “What happened?”
Brannon’s face appeared before my own, tight with worry and concern.
“I’m sorry. Gods, I’m so sorry. I was so focused on keeping my magic in place that I wasn’t looking at my feet. A spike got me, and it didn’t hurt—not really, but the shock—I wasn’t fast enough to repair the gap where you were standing—”
My hand reached out and squeezed his, stopping his rambling in its tracks. His eyes shone with genuine panic, his words laced with so much guilt that it made me squirm uncomfortably. I wanted it to stop.
So I squeezed again. “Save it. It’s not your fault. What you were doing couldn’t have been easy.”
He placed his other hand over my own. “It is entirely my fault. I’m sorry.”
I surprised myself by leaving my hand between his. “There is no need to apologize. I’m still breathing. I’m fine.”
“Your leg.” Kodhan was already examining the torn material of my pant-leg that stretched from the top of my knee to mid-thigh.
“Is also fine.” I did have enough energy to lie, after all.
“May I take a closer look?”
“Kodhan Dreadmourne, asking for permission?” I drawled.
No answer. Just a deep frown, followed by a few impatient taps of his foot.
Sighing through my nostrils, I nodded. I hadn’t spied any poison glistening on any of the metal, but the possibility wasn’t completely ruled out.
Kodhan knelt, his fingers gentle as they prodded the skin around my wound.
My leg spasmed when his fingers drew too close to torn skin, but he gripped my knee with just enough firmness to keep it in place.
Goosebumps shot up the expanse of my leg. Just the pain, I surmised.
“It’ll scar, even with proper stitching and ointment for the burns. But it wasn’t deep enough to hit bone.”
He looked up at me with an intensity that I couldn’t read.
At the sight of him, unguarded, kneeling at my feet with a gentle hand wrapped around my knee, an odd feeling cracked open an eye deep within my chest. Its interest stirred vibrations down my sternum.
Like dipping a single finger into water, only to watch its surface ripple.
“It could’ve been far worse,” he added. His words sounded as though they’d been dragged through gravel.
Mine were barely above a whisper. “Yes, it could have.” His fingers tightened, just a fraction, around my knee. At the catch in my next breath, his gaze dropped, falling to my throat. Surely, he couldn’t see the way my pulse fluttered there. Instinctively, I reached up to cover it.
Kodhan shot to his feet, wiping his hands across his thighs to get my blood off his fingers. “I’m the one that pushed you. If I hadn’t, the beast would’ve done more damage than the blades.”
Thank you, I almost said. But I held the words back. He’d saved my life—twice. I refused to acknowledge it out loud. Refused to be indebted to him.
“It won’t happen again,” Brannon promised. And I wanted to believe it.
But much like Theia’s promises, his own could only mean so much when the only reason he made them at all—helped me at all—was for Kodhan’s benefit.
“I can get us across the gap.” He scanned the drop from over my shoulder. “You just need to get a running start.”
Every ounce of warmth leeched from my face. He wanted us to jump.
I toed the end of the platform, peering down below. Nothing poked out from the darkness. Not even a quiver of movement. Just an abyss waiting to swallow us whole.
“He won’t drop you,” Theia said confidently, reading into the fear written plainly across my features.
A cold sweat broke out along my palms. “We can find another way. There has to be another way.”
Kodhan lashed out, gripping the back of my collar so quickly I barely had the time to register what was happening. He forced me to tip forward, dangling my upper body over the abyss below us. Only his firm grip kept me from falling. That, and the trembling muscles of my core and legs.
Agony tore through me. My leg. The strain was excruciating.
Theia’s cry of outrage was twin to my own.
“Jump, or I let you fall.”
The crowd howled in delight.
Maverick had to stop him. Had to send some sort of magic to sweep me back onto the platform and push Kodhan off instead. He wouldn’t let Kodhan do this, wouldn’t let him sabotage his own ally. Any moment now, he was going to help me.
I took a few shaky breaths, wearily eyeing the inky darkness below, waiting.
Nothing happened.
No magic helped me back up. Not even a single shout echoed from Maverick. My back was to him, therefore I couldn’t see what expression he sported. But it didn’t matter. He’d chosen to do nothing.
Rage bubbled in my chest. Ready to explode. “If you don’t let me go, I swear to every single star in the sky that I’ll gut you in your sleep and dump your corpse in the Phantom Rivers.”
“You want me to let you go? Fine.”
Kodhan’s grip on my collar loosened, but he hadn’t pulled me back. I careened forward, a scream pushing past my lips, but he caught me again just before my feet could slip.
“I’ll kill you,” I gasped, trying and failing to reach above my head in attempts to grab onto his wrist. “I will fucking kill you.”
“Tell me you’ll jump.”
My hatred for him grew tenfold. I never thought I’d hate someone as much as I hated Diana, but Kodhan was about to tie in at close second.
“It doesn’t look like I have a choice,” I snarled, and was instantly yanked backwards like I weighed absolutely nothing.
My momentum sent me flying backwards, but fury countered any pain erupting along my leg as I rightened myself. Unsheathing his dagger, I charged at him, uncaring for the fact that he could flay me on the spot.
Theia looked like she wanted to join in, her murderous expression impressive, but Brannon wrapped an arm around her waist. He whispered something into her ear, though his sharp glare was fixed entirely on his friend. I didn’t bother listening to her response.
I swiped low, aiming for Kodhan’s stomach. But my anger made me sloppy. My movements were nowhere near clean, and he took it to his advantage.
He stepped forward instead of dodging, blocking my attack with a swing of his own. His knuckles connected with my arm, hard enough that my fingers spasmed, dropping the blade.
So I went for his nose instead.
To my outrage, he caught my fist before it could connect. His hand was drastically larger than my own, his fingers caging the entirety of my hand.
He advanced again, bringing our chests flush against one another. I knew that tactic all too well. The closer your opponent was, the harder it was to catch anything vital. And the harder it was to defend yourself.
“Are you quite finished?” he asked quietly, his breath intermingling with mine.
Chest heaving, I contemplated spitting in his face. “Never.”
His lips twitched upwards. “Good.” He pushed my hand away from his face, then turned to Brannon, dismissing me entirely. As if I hadn’t just attempted to butcher him. “We’re ready.”
“We can jump together,” Brannon offered me, giving Kodhan one final hard look before holding out his hand. “If you fall, I fall.”
“Fine.” I bent to retrieve the dagger, then laced my fingers into his, gripping his hand tightly enough that my bones groaned in protest. He couldn’t let go even if he tried.
When I looked up at him, he nodded firmly. “I won’t drop you.”
He didn’t count down or bother asking if I was ready. He took off, trusting I would follow his cue. Our feet hammered into the platform, his efforts to match my pace evident as I faltered every time my right leg struggled to pump me forward.
A gentle, encouraging wind pushed at my back, and then we were airborne.
My feet kept swinging, but nothing met the soles of my boots. The wind at my back turned into something solid, like a phantom wall slamming into us hard enough to keep us moving. It only lasted seconds, but in that moment, feet dangling, suspended mid-air, it felt like an entire lifetime.
I didn’t dare glance at what lay below. All I could focus on was our conjoined hands, and my silent begging for him not to let go.
He held fast, even as we both collapsed onto solid ground. Held as I watched him push Theia and Kodhan across the gap, too.
I began to pull my hand from his, a tremble building in my fingers courtesy of my frayed nerves. Still, he did not let go. He tightened his hold and smiled. “We made it.”
The roar of the crowd suddenly rushed back into my ears, like I’d been submerged under water and finally breached the surface.
We made it.
I’d completed an entire trial.
Courage and Wit loomed—but my heart still beat. I still stood a chance.
Instead of smothering my growing smile, I let it bloom until my cheeks hurt. Let Diana see that I’d proved her wrong, just once. Would keep proving her wrong until she wouldn’t be in any place to doubt me ever again.
Theia’s laugher rang like windchimes as she wrapped both arms around my shoulders. “We made it!”
Happiness traced its warmth across forgotten corners of my heart, long since gone frigid. It wouldn’t last, that I knew.
But I was a selfish woman.
And so, quietly, selfishly, I reveled in its warmth. Basked in it.
“We made it,” Kodhan repeated, sporting a rare smile of his own. Pride decorated his features. I didn’t care if he extended any of it to me. It’s not like I wanted it. But when his eyes met mine, that warmth expanded until I feared my heart would burst.
Arms still wrapped around my shoulders, Theia pointed past Kodhan to a pair who were preparing to cross the gap. “We should celebrate elsewhere.”
Her hair tickled my cheek as I nodded. The last thing any of us wanted was to get into an altercation that would cost us our victory, mere feet away.
No one in this kingdom would take it from me.
I untangled myself from her arms, brushing off the rising chill already threatening the edges of my soul, and closed the short distance that spanned between us and the orb. Then reached out to grasp it, its white light almost blinding this close.
Kodhan had barely begun his warning, my name making it just shy past his lips before I was yanked into the orb. Into a void even darkness wouldn’t dare touch.