Chapter 37 Quinn
Quinn
Pain seared across my back. Instead of continuing to stand, I dropped and rolled, colliding with Chancellor Morgen’s feet. The woman shrieked and jumped back, pressing her hands across her body as if I’d hurt her.
I let myself lay there for a second, imagining one of those badass fighter flips, before pushing my ass off the floor like the peasant I was. My back burned, but I braced myself, only to find Morgen frozen, patting her body like I’d poisoned her.
Because I touched her.
The stupidest moment of my life flashed back—drunk outside the bakery, body snatchers attacking, me pointing just as a blast of magic struck. It hadn’t been mine, but I’d believed it was, and that false confidence was all I had to draw on now.
I pointed straight at her, my finger shaking.
“The truth doesn’t matter to you, does it?
” I willed my Majekah forward. Except nothing happened.
The collar still blocked everything, but Chancellor Morgen didn’t know that.
Her face paled, her gaze fixed on my finger.
A ripple of gasps rolled through The Pit, voices rising, some shouting for me to strike, others calling me cursed.
I pulled on my drunk bravado like a costume.
“Truth is what you choose to believe, girl.” Chancellor Morgen spread her arms and grew. Her skin changed from pale to shades of brown and green, while her legs lengthened and tripled in number until they spread out like the roots of a tree. Her black robes tore and fluttered to the floor.
I loved the Ents in Lord of the Rings, but never dreamed I’d have to fight one.
‘Move, Quinn,’ Ezra’s voice stabbed through my shock. The crowd shrieked with him, half baying for my blood, half demanding the spectacle continue, as Tree Ent Morgen whipped her branches like fan blades.
I dove backward and hit the cage, then used the same move as before to dive low and as far away as I could in the limited space of the ring. Tree Ent Morgen groaned, and jagged stakes shot from her trunk like arrows. Two missed, but the third stabbed into the back of my knee.
Excruciating pain blinded me. The Pit roared approval, stomping, clapping, chanting with every crack of the branches. I was a sitting duck in a meat grinder.
A soft click reached my ears, and my magic bloomed to life.
‘Alex has access to you now.’ Xan’s voice filled my mind. ‘Live. I don’t care about anything else; don’t leave me. I love you.’
Xan loved me. My heart soared.
‘I’ll wait. I love you too,’ Alex added. ‘Both of you.’
My soaring heart skipped a beat. I didn’t have time to deal with Alex’s craziness right now.
I reached behind me and ripped the stick out of the back of my knee. My vision went white with agony, but I couldn’t afford to stop. I shoved magic into my legs and rolled toward Morgen’s roots. She wouldn’t slice off her own legs, at least, I hoped.
She let out another deep wail and tried to move back, but her thick base didn’t move very fast. Another string of sticks shot toward me. I rolled again, catching three of them on my side. Agony made it hard to breathe. I focused on the sound of whipping branches inches from my foot.
If I could touch her, this would be over.
I ripped the sticks free, agony blinding me, and rolled until my shoulder slammed into her roots. Lying on my back, I looked up and found myself under her. Another sharpened stake appeared inches from my eyes.
Without another thought, I put my hand over it as if I could keep it from shooting forward. Pain bit into me as the stick drove entirely through my hand, but stopped before penetrating my skull.
My Majekah rushed forward. Tree Ent Morgen wailed, but her cry was drowned beneath The Pit’s frenzy, and then she blurred.
I braced for bits to rain down, but instead of melting like Professor Holiday, Tree Ent Morgen split into two distinct shapes with my hand caught between them.
Tree, and a frail old woman. My Majekah snapped off, and Morgen crumpled beside me.
Through the pain, I dragged her head into my lap.
No monster now. Just a withered woman wheezing in my lap, each breath a rattle.
“I only wanted to live,” she rasped.
I rocked. “And you did. For a hundred years.”
“I never wanted to kill,” she whispered. “But fear… fear made it them, or me.”
I pressed a hand to her shoulder. “You don’t have to be scared anymore.”
Her gaze locked on mine. “Stupid girl,” she croaked. “Fear never dies.”
The light bled from her eyes. Her chest stilled. My heart hammered. Everything hurt—especially my soul.“I wasn’t going to kill you,” I whispered.
I tried to close Morgen’s eyes, but the instant I touched her face, her skin caved in. In a matter of seconds, her body decomposed in my arms.
For one heartbeat, silence stretched, every breath in The Pit caught, then the raspy voice split it like a blade: “Match to Quinn. The Architect’s ally is gone, destroyed by his puppet.
He freed her, commanded her, proved this girl’s will is not her own.
” The silence shattered into uproar, some voices cursing my name, others shouting in defense, the noise tearing at me from all sides.
I hadn’t noticed the tears already streaming down my face, but new fat ones added to the trail. Was that what this proved? That Xan pulled the strings? That I was nothing but his puppet?
All I saw were two women clawing to survive. I hadn’t liked Morgen, but I understood her fear.
The voice still thundered, but it washed over me, meaningless.
These trials weren’t about free will. They never were.
Every test could be interpreted to fit what anyone desired.
I agreed to all of this because I didn’t want to be the cause of a problem.
I hadn’t fought back because I thought I was doing the right thing for everyone while ignoring what was right for me. Again.
And here I sat, covered in the dirt of someone who might have been my friend, while the world screamed over me, their voices twisting my every choice into chains. I’d walked into The Pit four times and let strangers confuse me until I even doubted myself.
Don’t do that, my dad’s voice whispered in my head.I wiped my cheeks, repeating the words like armor. “Don’t do that.”