Chapter 9 Food, Warm Clothes, Blanket #2
Beck, Fate bless him, managed to shadow us the entire time. His eyes remained closed, squeezing tight every few seconds. After a moment, she finally trailed off.
Wasting no time, we ran. We had an orb. All we had to do was get it to our base. I held it, attempting to mask the glow between my hands while following Beck.
We might win this. Food, warm clothes, blankets.
Without warning, the light above the field brightened to a white glow resembling the sun, and the fog vanished. We could see everything, which meant everyone could see us, standing in the middle of the field like prey.
Lord Ansel stood on the sidelines, directly in my path. “Don't be scared,” he mouthed.
That did not help.
The injured Flamecastor and a grinning Stonesender set their sights on the orb in my hands.
“Elora!” someone roared from the sidelines. I knew that voice like I knew a hangover. I whipped around, my body tensing as a ball of flames hurtled towards my head. Fear struck me with its icy touch. I was frozen in place, my own instincts failing me. I couldn’t act. Couldn’t think.
“Move!” Riven shouted, voice surging over the crazed crowd.
Beck rammed into me, knocking us both to the hard ground. I held tight to the orb as if my life depended on it.
As quickly as he’d pushed me to dodge the blow, Beck pulled me back up. “Run,” he ordered.
I bolted.
Our base was clear ahead, but no sign of Charles.
Was he hiding somewhere with the orb? Was he dead?
The Flamecastor ran on her injured leg, her fiery glow only brightening as she picked up her pace. Her brown hair flowed like an enemy flag running into battle.
Crashing into me, we slammed into the ground, toppling over one another.
I winced at the impact, my shoulder screaming as it took the brunt of the fall, just as it had when I’d fallen down the stairs.
“Useless Blackheart,” she spat as she ripped the orb away.
I strained to sit up, panting and cursing as she ran off.
Food. Warm clothes. Blankets.
There was no option I could live with except forcing myself up. The pain in my shoulder cried out in obliterating agony, as fragile as cloth right before tearing. I closed my eyes, embracing a moment of darkness.
One, two, three.
I flung my eyes open.
Beck was already chasing the Flamecastor. She cried out for help as he neared. He didn’t strike me as the type to fuck around about gold.
Then she halted, giving up entirely on running. Screaming, the Flamecastor barreled a flaming ball towards him.
Beck’s face flashed with panic. He had no time to block it.
“No!” I screeched, reaching out as if I somehow could.
A splash of violet and black poison snatched the flames midair, devouring them. The poison fell to the ground and sizzled into nothing.
I lifted my hand in awe. I’d done that. I’d used my Nature.
In immediate retaliation, Beck landed a solid kick to the Flamecastor's stomach, sending the orb falling. The audience roared with excitement as I grabbed it. A fight had broken out across the field between a few other teams, and we only had so much time left.
Food. Warm clothes. Blankets.
Beck and the Flamecastor attacked each other with fists and elbows, both too weak to use their Nature again. Thank fuck.
I felt it too. The dizziness and nausea. I hated it.
The crowd’s mania rose louder as I neared the base, and Charles poked his head out from behind the tree, grinning with our storm orb. He was still alive.
Beck yelled out in pain. I glanced back. The Flamecastor was on top of him, her hands around his neck. I could end this. I was so close. Our base, where Charles bounced around, was just ahead.
“Eeee-Lorah! You owe me a kiss soon! I know we-r ya stay!” Charles shouted.
What made him think I would ever let him touch me again? My blood boiled, legs and shoulder burning. I was closing the distance, victory dangerously close.
Food, warm clothes, blankets.
“Get her!” someone shouted.
A world-spinning crack pounded against the back of my head, propelling me down. The echoing pain rang out before I hit the ground.
I blinked, my vision blurry. A rock laid next to my head.
The orb had fallen just out of arm's reach. I tried to force myself up, but my body betrayed me, beginning to shake.
Food. Warm clothes. Blankets.
A Stonesender stalked towards me. He knew he had won.
My head throbbed, and a warm trickle ran down my neck. I pressed my hand to the wound.
A screech cut through the air, the Stonesender’s confidence fading. He stopped in his tracks, petrified at whatever was happening. I moaned, finally sitting up.
Beck had a wad of the Flamecastor’s hair in his grasp, yanking her head to his chest. “Sorry,” he said breathlessly before snapping her neck in a swift motion. She fell to the ground, just as easily as the fly caught between Lord Ansel’s fingers had.
Wiping the crimson trail from his nose, Beck grinned at the Stonesender. “Your turn,” he said, shadows clouding his eyes.
Beck was teetering on the edge of burnout. He couldn’t do this on his own. My injuries weren’t ideal, but I was plenty used to pain.
I took three intentional breaths before hauling myself up with trembling arms. If there really was a monster within me, it had best keep me fucking moving. My head was spinning.
Charles was still alive at the base, hopping around and protecting our orb. “Eeeee-Lorahhhhhhh! KISS KISS KISS—”
“Shut the fuck up!” I screamed.
As if the orb heard me, it struck the Imp with an electric bolt. His green body dropped to the ground, smoke emitting from his hands and feet. Lifeless.
Our orb had electrocuted him.
Beck charged the Stonesender as he ran towards me, towards the orb. I flung myself on top of it, using my body as a shield. The Stonesender clawed at my shoulders, pulling me like a wild animal fighting for food.
“I’ll kill you!” he screamed with crazed desperation. He knew the value of this victory. He knew how horrible these winters were. “You wretched bitch! Let go!”
I held on, squeezing my eyes shut just as he punched the back of my head. I choked back a cry. The impact of his fist was somehow worse than the rock. It was all I could do to fight against the darkness at the edges of my vision.
Then everything stopped.
There was no more pulling and punching. I blinked against wet eyes, the light of the arena nearly impossible to bear. An icy shiver ran down my spine, a reminder that I was still very much alive.
Beck landed a tooth-knocking hit into the Stonesender’s face as the two of them brawled next to me. Across the field, another team ran with the third orb to another base. I had to move.
Get up, dammit, I begged my body.
A bone snapped. I could not force myself to look to see if it was Beck’s or the Stonesender’s. I heaved myself up and stumbled forward with the orb, limping as I counted my steps.
One, two, three,
Someone belched and gagged behind me, likely vomiting. Maybe even burning out.
Four, five,
A woman’s voice screamed at an octave I didn’t know was possible. The smell of melting flesh permeated the air.
Six, seven, eight,
The line was so close.
Nine, ten.
I cried out as I fell to the base.
A horn sounded, and the Waywards roared with cheers. The world became so loud, the thoughts in my head faded into the distance.
I lay in the grass, Charles’ body a few feet away. Had Lord Ansel done that? Or was Charles just that stupid?
The spectators were a howling beast above, but I couldn’t move, much less give them a victorious show of pride.
“What are you doing on the ground? We won,” a slick voice said, smiling proudly over me. Beck was bloodied and dirty, but it could’ve been much worse.
“You’re not dead,” I whispered, examining his brown eyes.
“Of course not. You, though, look ready to join Charles,” he said, extending a hand.
I took it, grimacing as I stood. My head was pounding.
The partying had already begun and would go on all night. How many people had bet on us losing? How much money had been made tonight? Gazing across the field, I counted the cost of the victory. At least five lives, maybe more. They’d died for this. Was it worth it?
While winning was a complete shock, I was in more disbelief that I’d used my Nature to smother a flame.
The Witchlords gathered once more, talking amongst themselves, hashing out coins.
How much had I actually earned? I prayed it was enough for a blanket, a fresh loaf of bread, and a warmer sweater. That would be a dream.
Lord Ansel took long strides across the field, his cloak billowing behind him.
I swallowed as he approached, motioning to Charles’ body. “Did you kill him?”
Whether or not I was out of line for confronting him mattered no longer. I wasn’t upset that Charles was dead, but I needed to know if the Witchlord would kill someone on his team.
“Would you like it if I did?”
“Answer the question.”
Lord Ansel shrugged. “The Imp shouldn't have been careless.”
He had no morals, not that I should have expected much from a Witchlord.
Beck cut in. “My prize, Witchlord,” he demanded, holding his hand out.
“Of course.” Lord Ansel plopped a small black bag in his palm, clinking from its weight. It was full of enough gold to survive months in the Waywards if spent wisely.
Beck gave me a friendly nod, stuffed the pouch into his pocket, and left without another word.
Lord Ansel's eyes slid to me. “Do you have anything specific you’d like? From outside the walls?”
I was still in shock that I had gold to spend at all, or that I was coherent enough to have a conversation. Of course, there were things I wanted.
“I desire food, warmer clothes, a blanket, and more immediately, I need a drink.”
Lord Ansel nodded, tossing me my gold while casually surveying the field.
Tucking the prize money into my threadbare pocket, I brushed myself off and crouched next to Charles. Or, specifically, his fingers.
I’d promised he would lose one.
“Do you have a knife?” I blurted.
Pulling a folded blade out, Lord Ansel tossed it my way without question. The game was supposed to be a reminder, but to me, this finger was the reminder. I severed it without a second thought.
With the green trophy in my pocket and Lord Ansel’s knife returned, I crossed the field to the rest of the Waywards. I needed food. My already aching stomach was even more unsettled after using my Nature, and I had a Nightcastor waiting in bed for me in the Pearl.
The excitement of winning almost made me forget about my injuries. I gently tapped the wound on the back of my head and looked at my fingers. There was no more blood. The rest of my body would take days, maybe weeks, to heal. I could live with that.
There was still celebrating to do.