16. Zeno #2
The intercom blares again. “As for the consequences—once the time is up, those still inside the cave will be disqualified from the next Trial. At that time, current exits will be sealed and six new exits will open on the roof of the caves. The caves will then be flooded with water.
“Cohort Leaders will still be in open communication with their team, but the only incentive will be to save the lives of their cohort members. To reiterate, you have one minute and thirty seconds to exit the caves before the water is released. May the Forms grant you wisdom in Justice.”
A clicking sound signals the end of the announcement, and Lazarus comes back on.
“Forms, crap, Zeno, you’re not going to make it. This is all my fault, I didn’t—”
“Lazarus,” Zeno shouts. He needs to get out of here; he needs Lazarus to get him out of here. “Breathe with me, okay? In and out.”
Lazarus breathes over the line.
“In and out.”
Another breath.
“Now I need you to calm down and lead me to the exit.”
“Yes.”
“Tell me what to do, okay?”
“Run.”
Zeno doesn’t need to be told twice. He takes off like Thanatos is on his heels and Lazarus shouts instructions at twice the volume he did for everyone else. Zeno’s shadow taunts him and reminds him that he isn’t going fast enough. He isn’t going to make it on the Council; he might not even survive.
“Zeno, it’s not going to work, you’re not going to get there on time,” Lazarus yells hysterically when a countdown begins, starting from twenty.
“Not the time!”
“Shit, sorry! Keep going. Left. Right.”
“Fifteen, fourteen, thirteen—”
“Left.”
Zeno’s lungs are burning with the effort of maintaining his sprint.
“—twelve, eleven, ten, nine, eight—”
“Right. Left.”
His legs are jelly.
“—seven, six, five, four, three—”
This must be what dying feels like.
“Okay, go straight! Go straight. You’re so close, Zeno, go straight!”
“—two—”
He feels a handle in front of him.
“That’s it. That’s the door!”
“—one.”
He pushes the exit open and falls through, collapsing into a heap as the door swings shut and locks behind him.
“Congratulations, the final member of your team has successfully exited the cave.”
He catches his breath on the ground, and the binds holding his hands together release. Then a strong pair of arms lifts him into a hug.
“Shit, dude, I thought you were a goner,” Alexander says. He pulls back enough that they’re face to face and holds Zeno’s cheeks in one hand to make his lips purse in a fish face. “Never do that again, Zee, I will be helpless here without you.”
Zeno smiles as best he can with his face all squished up and slurs, “I pwomis.”
Then Alexander is violently pushed aside by someone half his size. In the single moment it takes Zeno to recognize her, Eudoxia is already on him, arms around his neck and legs around his waist.
He could get used to this.
“I can’t believe you made me sit through that, you monster,” she whispers in his ear, clutching him tight. He melts into her embrace and has to marvel at how perfectly they fit together.
“Sorry.”
He was made for her, he’s quite sure.
She wasn’t made for him—she was just made—but he was made for her.
He hoists her further up so his arms can stabilize her under her thighs, and walks toward their cohort’s section of bleachers.
“Do you want to spar tonight?” he asks, muffled in her neck.
He’s recently admitted to himself that maybe the whole reason he insisted on sparring was to get some time alone with her. Some time to do… whatever it is that they do when they’re sparring, which he tries desperately not to think about in the act, lest his mind wander.
Eudoxia sighs into his hair like she’s frustrated with him. “Of course I do, you stupid head.”
Zeno tries to hide his grin against her neck, but he’s sure she sees it anyway.
When they get to everyone else, he begrudgingly puts her down and sits next to Alexander, who is chatting quietly with Kallias.
Against all odds, Kallias is actually responding to him, albeit with frequent eye rolls and almost nothing but insults.
When he settles into his seat, Lazarus comes to an abrupt halt in front of him, out of breath like he’s been running, and yanks him into a hug. “Forms, I thought I killed you,” he says, fast and anxious. “You were going to fail and it was going to be my fault. Forms, I am so sorry. I’m so—”
“Lazarus,” Zeno says, wishing he was surprised that Lazarus was being this hard on himself. “It was not your fault. You tried your best and look at me—I made it out.”
Lazarus exhales harshly into Zeno’s shoulder, then lets him go to fall to the bleachers, head in his hands. Poor guy.
When he turns back to his friends, Alexander is no longer in his seat, but across the room and yelling.
“Half of your team is stuck in there and you’re just going to sit here and let them drown?” he asks at a young Cohort Leader who leans back in his seat with his arms crossed.
Oh, Zeno forgot about that part.
Every Cohort Leader whose team didn’t make it out completely, which is most of them, is on comms, leading their cohort to safety. Except for this one.
“It’s not my problem anymore. I got half the team out. I’m moving on to the next Trial. Now it’s up to them.”
“They don’t know where the exits are. They can’t see anything!”
Alexander looks ready to throw punches, but the kid is fearless. He just arches a brow. “It’s not your team, it’s not your issue. So leave me alone.”
Alexander glares so hard Zeno expects him to just slap the kid right there. Instead, Alexander rips the headset off the kid’s head and starts instructing his team on how to reach the nearest exits.
When another Cohort Leader throws his headset on the floor and stalks off, Alexander makes a pleading face at Kallias, who sighs and sits at the station to instruct that team as well.
A loud timer rings once the caves are completely full of water.
Everyone made it out alive, though less than half in time to advance to the next Trial.
A whole gaggle of sopping fifteen-year-olds tackles Alexander in gratitude, and another group of them stares adoringly at Kallias, too afraid to approach him.
Zeno closes his eyes to absorb the cacophony around him—relieved sighs and soaking wet reunions and the laughter of the beautiful girl sitting next to him—and decides that things could be a whole lot worse.