Chapter 62
I ran through the dense forest holding the bow at my side so it wouldn’t snag on branches or bushes.
Yesterday’s snow was melting and dripping from the branches around me, and the cold air, still trapped by the thick foliage, made my face sting.
Though the forest was dark, a few faint rays of sunlight reached me, lighting the path ahead.
Even knowing vials weren’t supposed to appear in the first part of the test, I caught myself scanning for them anyway, watching my step in case of traps.
Being in the forest was unsettling, and for most of the way I couldn’t tell if I was running toward the center of the dome or away from my old fears.
Either way, running felt good right then.
Throughout the morning, I kept a controlled, steady pace, just as Zion had taught me in training.
Beyond watching for traps, I dreaded running into another student who wasn’t one of my friends.
I wondered where they were and whether they’d been dropped in a quiet area like mine.
The first time I missed my gift was when I slipped on a moss-covered rock and grabbed a fire thorn to catch myself.
The thorns pierced my skin and the poison spread through the wound.
With tears in my eyes, I spat on my palm and rubbed my hands together desperately to counteract the toxins.
Soon the burning stopped, but the small wounds kept stinging.
When the sun, veiled by gray clouds, hung directly overhead at noon, my stomach growled, so I started looking for food and water.
I slowed my pace and moved more quietly through the forest, trying not to spook any animals.
About two hours later, my stomach was still empty and thirst had become my biggest problem.
Zion had warned me that most eliminations didn’t happen from lack of vials, but from lack of skill in finding supplies—a weak person couldn’t stay on their feet until the last day, and without energy, the brain couldn’t think straight.
Running, fighting, or defending myself wouldn’t work well if I was dehydrated.
I was no stranger to starvation, so I was determined to stay hydrated and keep my energy up until the end.
Around 4 p.m., with my mouth as dry as the Tamyrah desert of Ampér, I found an acerola tree.
There weren’t many fruits, but they were enough to settle my empty, aching stomach.
Still, even though I’d found food, there was no water anywhere—only muddy puddles left over from the morning’s snowmelt, and I wasn’t desperate enough to risk getting sick from contaminated water.
I kept moving in a straight line, watching for signs of traps and trying not to stray from my route so I wouldn’t wander into another student’s territory. I was as tense as a bowstring at full draw and felt pathetic every time I jumped at a bird rustling the leaves overhead.
When the sunlight began to fade through the trees and the first snowflakes threatened to fall, I set out to find a mandrocina.
I moved slowly and carefully, both to avoid the traps I’d spotted along the way and because exhaustion had set in—my lungs working overtime, each breath condensing into puffs of cold air.
When I finally found one of the trees, I grabbed a stone from the ground in case I needed to crack it open at the top, as Zion had taught me.
Despite the many branches, my fingers ached from the cold and made climbing difficult, not to mention the extra weight of the stone in my pocket.
As soon as I reached the canopy, I heard some animal sniffing around below, but from that height, I couldn’t make out what it was.
I dragged myself over the top and almost cried with joy when I spotted a large hollow in the tree. I felt around inside, testing the wooden floor, because if it was rotten and gave way, I’d fall through to the next section of the trunk and be trapped inside.
I slipped off the bow and crawled in carefully, my clothes rustling against the narrow entrance.
Then I curled up around it like a cold kitten, finally letting myself relax for the first time in hours.
The day hadn’t been great, but at least nothing had gone wrong.
My stomach was growling and my mouth was dry, but I tried to stay positive.
The exhaustion and pain were things I’d expected, along with all the nervousness, fear, and tension that had gripped me throughout the day.
I looked up at the sky through the hole I’d climbed through and glimpsed the greenish aurora borealis above. Its beauty, combined with the danger I sensed from the sounds of the forest and the incessant scraping of claws on my tree, left my heightened senses overwhelmed and exhausted.
When I felt rested enough, I stuck my head out of the hole and looked around.
Snowflakes were drifting down, blanketing the trees in white, and against that backdrop, the green, red, and blue lights stood out on all sides of the horizon.
I noticed that if I headed north toward the center, I’d come face to face with two lights: a blue one worth thirty points and a red one worth fifty.
My heart leaped—if I got the red one, I could go straight to the end of the test. But there was still a long walk ahead, and by my calculations, if I left at 5 a.m. when the first rays of sun appeared, I could get there around noon.
I also needed to find water. That was essential.
I marked the points in my memory, using the constellation of Axtra, the eagle of the north, as a reference.
I also noticed that farther ahead in that direction, there were some less visible green lights, which was good—if nothing worked out, I could keep following the path and try to find them.
The only problem was that they were near the center, the most dangerous area of the test. That’s where the students desperate for vials would be, and I wanted to stay far away from them.
My stomach growled once more, and the only thing I could do about it was lie down to sleep—sleep would make me forget the emptiness of hunger. That night, I slept curled up inside the tree trunk and dreamed of Zion.
The warmth of his memory was the only thing that kept me warm in the forest.
Δ
I woke to dim light filtering through the tree's opening.
I stretched, feeling every muscle ache from a night spent sleeping wrong on the uneven wood.
My mouth was dry and my stomach growled, reminding me that yesterday's acerolas hadn't come anywhere close to enough.
I climbed out of the trunk, trying to get my bearings from the sun's position so I could follow the route I'd mapped out the night before.
Once on the ground, I started running north, toward the lights I'd spotted at dawn. Along the way, the small piles of snow grew more and more tempting as thirst took hold, but fear of contamination kept me from giving in. I focused hard on running toward my goal without stumbling into any traps.
A good while had passed when I heard the sound of a stream.
I followed the noise and nearly cried when I saw water trickling down a wall of stones and mud.
A freshwater spring. It had to be a miracle, and all I could do was silently thank the runes painted on my body for watching over me.
Cautiously, I tested a small amount to make sure it wasn't contaminated, and when I confirmed it didn't taste like iron, I drank my fill until my stomach protested.
I used the break to search for food. Since I hadn't seen any animals to hunt, I scoured the area around the spring for fallen logs, and it wasn't long before I found what I was looking for: a large, rotting log lying near the stream that flowed between the stones.
While I ran my hands along the wood, searching for weak spots, a drone landed nearby.
I found one and dug both hands into the sides of the trunk, then pulled, feeling it start to split open.
I grunted with effort, and finally the trunk cracked apart, revealing large, slimy turus.
These had been my emergency meal back when I was a war slave.
I smiled at my breakfast, and the drone drifted closer for a better look. I crouched down to harvest them from the trunk, pulling them out of their hollows. They looked a lot like pale worms, but they tasted like oyster or squid.
I pulled out five and washed them well to get rid of the woody taste.
Then I lifted one to my mouth and set it on my tongue.
I chewed, feeling the smooth, slimy texture.
It tasted like forest and sunny days by the lake, smelled of survival, and stirred up so many memories it was hard to keep them under control.
I ate the other four and searched for more, determined to eat until I couldn't fit another bite.
When I'd satisfied my hunger, I grabbed a large leaf from the undergrowth and placed several mollusks on it, folded it over, then wrapped it in another leaf to make a little bundle.
This would be a good snack for the road.
Heading north again, I came across a wild blackberry bush.
I stopped to pick some, tucking them into my jacket pocket for later.
Finding the blackberries meant no one had passed through here, which was excellent news.
When the sun was directly overhead, I found myself somewhere different from the peaceful forest I'd been in before.
Here, the ground was wetter and softer underfoot, making my boot soles sink into the earth.
The trees were different too—smaller, more twisted, and draped with moss hanging from their branches.
From what I remembered of the Drutes forest, this looked like a swamp.