CHAPTER THIRTY
We followed lit torches deep into the forest, their flames casting writhing shadows through the trees. A strong odor of decay walked alongside us although its source nowhere to be seen. Our path was completely clear, the branches above our heads devoid of any trace of life.
My blades were ready, their edges glinting as I held them out in front of me.
Kodhan’s fingers twitched, barely reining in his own fire. A faint breeze tickled the back of my neck, courtesy of Brannon fighting to grapple his wind, and Gideon had unsheathed his sword since the moment we broke the tree line.
Theia held her head high, eyes distant and unfocused. Likely casting her magic out in a wide net of sorts, testing for approaching danger. She said nothing, which pointed to good news, but the slight pinch between her brows was unnerving.
Dirt crunched under our boots, the only sound other than our breathing and the swishing of the branches above. They’d abruptly stopped chanting. Like they knew they’d already won.
No roaring crowd echoed around us. No sign that anyone had come through the forest. Not a single footprint marred the smooth dirt.
Though I swore I could hear faint residues of chatter interwoven throughout the clacking of the branches.
And the moon had made a rare appearance, cresting high in the center of the sky, its beams pooling between gaps in the trees like spotlights.
My grip tightened around the hilts of my daggers as we reached a clearing the size of a small meadow. Gideon was right, four remaining survivors stood at varying edges of the clearing with guards at their backs.
Lachlan and Elias spotted us immediately. Their slow, sinister smiles promised nothing but slow and unending pain.
But their smiles meant nothing. They were already dead men.
My gaze slid to the remaining team. I didn’t recognize them from Strength, nor did I remember seeing them during the last celebration. But slipping through the cracks oftentimes proved to be one of the greatest strategies. They’d made it this far, after all.
The two women huddled together, whispering. One of them glanced nervously over her shoulder. Her ally nodded vigorously, speaking too quickly for me to catch any of her words.
Those two would be the ones to look out for. Quiet cunning was far more lethal than brash violence.
A wooden watchtower, almost as tall as the trees, peered down on us all.
Lined with a swaying rope ladder with fifty rungs, crooked enough that one misstep could have one soaring towards the ground.
Thin railings circled the square lookout at the top, looking ready to break under the barest of pressure.
And if one did not have sufficient proficiency with wind, falling from that watchtower meant a sure, immediate death.
Kodhan pointed to the square lookout. “Look. There’s something hanging from the top.”
My stomach plummeted. Small, blurry outlines could be made out past the railings. I couldn’t quite make out anything other than their oval shapes, but their colors were stark, glittering under the light of the moon. Ruby, emerald, sapphire, a translucent quartz. Amethyst.
“They’re for us,” I guessed. “Each gem represents an element.”
There were eight hanging items in total, an equal amount of color for each person’s strongest element. Two for fire, wind, and earth. One for water. Then there was mine. It didn’t take any questioning to know what the color was for.
“Clever girl.” Maverick’s voice jarred through me, like he spoke from mere inches away. But he was nowhere to be seen.
“Another trial without spectators?” Brannon pondered out loud.
“Incorrect.”
Kodhan whirled, snarling as he scanned the trees. He shot a single arrow of flame into the forest, its light revealing nothing but root and grass.
“I can’t feel them,” Theia muttered frantically, low enough that I could barely hear her. “I can’t feel any of them.”
“We sit amongst the stars,” Maverick taunted. We craned our necks, searching the skies. Only gnarled branches waved back.
One of the two women shouted from across the clearing. “Where is the Dome?”
“Miss it already?” Maverick crooned, from everywhere and nowhere all at once.
I could’ve sworn I heard laughter in the distance.
He’d deprived the kingdom of Courage. They had to be starving for blood—for death.
“No, this is where you will perform. There are only two simple rules. Retrieve the pin representing your element.”
“What’s the other?” Lachlan called out impatiently.
“Survive.”
There was no time to prepare. No cannons boomed; no fireworks sparkled. Streamers did not rain down, nor did the shrieking of the crowd deafen my ears.
Just one word shot down from the sky like thunder.
“Begin.”
Rattling the ground on impact, the field separating us trembled with the force of—no. It wasn’t Maverick’s magically amplified voice that sent nearby stones skittering across the field.
Something was coming. Something fast.
I searched the tree line frantically. Nothing behind us, nor behind the wooden watchtower.
Death hurts more than fear. Death hurts more than fear.
The presence near the gossamer curtains in my mind disappeared. Theia’s magic had retreated. Good. She would need all of it.
Crashing trees and snapping branches to my right had my limbs locking, and bile rising up my throat.
Two gargantuan shapes blasted past the tree line, sending dirt, stone, and splinters flying directly at us. I ducked as a deafening roar pounded at my eardrums, and turned just in time to avoid the splinters, like millions of tiny darts.
The others were fine—I hadn’t heard any cries of pain.
Forcing myself to straighten, I craned my neck, to the point of strain, so I could take in the entirety of the beasts that stood before us.
They made the shadow-wolves from Strength look like children’s fables.
It would take three of me just to reach their underbelly.
And it would take only one of their massive talon-tipped feet to pulverize me.
Although both had murderous snarls fixated onto their faces, revealing rows of razor-sharp teeth, they weren’t at all identical.
They shared elongated snouts, and had the same ebony, night-hued scales, but the similarities ended there.
The one on the right had winding horns, and the one on the left had a webbed mane that wrapped around its neck, rising high above its head.
But their wings—stars above, their wings stole the breath from my lungs. Weakened my knees to the point that I had to grab onto Kodhan’s arm for support.
The one on the left had them tucked in tight—encasing their muscled body like armor.
But the one on the right’s wings stretched to full capacity, the span of them so wide they almost reached opposite edges of the tree line.
Free of scales, the thin, almost translucent skin reflected the color above our heads as though it was crafted directly from the night sky.
The beast flapped them just once, sending another gust of wind whipping at my face.
A beautiful nightmare stood before us. A terrifying, magnificent nightmare.
My blood stilled completely in my veins, turning me into a cold, rigid statue. Numbness held me as its prisoner, even as I gripped Kodhan’s arm tightly enough to bruise.
Not that he made any indication that he felt it at all. His focus was completely narrowed in on the sight before us.
I’d heard that roar before. Seen the faint outlines of the bodies now standing so close I could feel their chuffing breaths while they slithered across the clearing, assessing. Calculating. Those were not some beasts conjured from Maverick’s imagination.
Those were dragons. Inside the Veil. Maverick had lured them here, purposely, when for hundreds of years, his magic stood to protect us against these very creatures. I couldn’t possibly imagine the gods agreeing with his decision.
Their keen, milky white iris-less eyes roved over us, livid and hungry for vengeance. They knew exactly who we were. What we were after. The dragons would take great pleasure in ending us.
And Maverick would not stop them.
There was no time to ponder it—to level my rage as movement in my peripheral vision stole my attention away from the monsters we faced.
The two women darted into the woods, either to hide out until the dragons killed the rest of us, or to bide their time until they came up with a way to snatch up their pins and smite us all.
The guards disappeared into thin air, like they were never with us to begin with.
Gideon was fine. He had to be.
Lachlan and Elias bolted towards the watchtower instead, careful not to get taken out by the long, powerful tails slashing side to side.
This was why Maverick wanted more space.
Why he cloaked the spectators with his magic.
To minimize the wreckage, and to allow an even playing field between us and the dragons.
They might have been born for the skies, but they navigated the ground with ease, talons digging into the dirt with each step forward. Predators, through and through.
“Move,” I whispered, more to myself than anyone else. Staying rooted in place would get me killed. Would get us killed. But as I began to let go of Kodhan’s arm, I noticed I was not the only one who hadn’t moved an inch.
My allies stared and stared at the dragons, each of their faces painted with soaring amounts of anger and dismay.
Under my fingers, Kodhan trembled. But out of everything written plainly across his face, fear was not present. The most talented artist could paint his portrait, and yet never be able to capture the rage emanating from him.
The fire at his wrists burned brighter, hotter, trailing higher up his arm until I had to yank my hand back. Those were not flames I wanted to risk touching, a living embodiment of what warred inside of him.
“Move!” I shouted this time.