23. Lira
23
LIRA
A s we dropped toward the gas, my hair flew into my face. I reached out and grabbed Lorne’s waist. When our bodies were almost submerged, my back muscles moved like a reflex, and my wings flapped, holding us steady despite the way my arms shook from his weight.
I glanced down to see that I was shoulder-deep in the fog. If I didn’t move us upward, the gas would engulf us, and we’d die.
My muscles tensed and ached, and I tried not to overthink it like Tavish and Finnian had coached me.
I was fae, and part of me knew what to do, even if I couldn’t consciously remember. I needed to focus on keeping hold of Lorne. If he fell, the momentum would take me with him.
“Hold on to me,” I gritted out, wanting my whole body to take the distribution of his weight and not only my arms.
He didn’t argue, wrapping his arms around my neck and his legs around my waist, putting me in the most intimate position I’d ever been in with a man. All it took was a life-or-death situation to get a man to cover my body with his.
Loud boos came from the audience, who were clearly not happy that we’d survived. I hadn’t heard any of their noises before, but I hadn’t been this high up in the coliseum. That had to be why.
But wow. The Unseelie were such lovely people.
“You’re going to have to do more than this to get us out of danger,” Lorne whispered.
He had to weigh twice as much as me, and my entire body was straining just to keep us at this level. My back muscles burned in ways I’d never dreamed of. “I … don’t …” With the amount of pressure from carrying him yanking on me, I struggled to say each word. “… know … how … to fly.”
“Focus on where you want to take us,” he huffed. “Your wings will do the rest.”
Yeah, I seriously doubted that, but I didn’t have the energy to spare to argue with him. So instead, I locked on the beginning of the monkey bars obstacle, and my wings moved faster, though the burn intensified and my back screamed. Lorne’s weight resembled an anchor trying to drag us to our deaths.
I clenched my jaw so hard that it cracked, and I tried to push through the searing pain. Between my feet and stomach burns and now this, I’d never been in misery like this before, and that was saying something.
With each flap of my wings, my back muscles became more tired, but our bodies lifted. After a while, the sensation didn’t feel quite as strange, and something inside me filled with faint joy.
Even though I didn’t remember it, a freedom that felt slightly familiar confirmed that I loved flying … without the extra weight .
Lorne clung to me, his body rubbing my raw skin, but I swallowed any complaint. Tears filled my eyes, and I refused to look down to see what little progress we’d made. I focused on the platform, desperate not to lose sight of it, fearful that my wings would stop moving. Sweat beaded my body, causing my skin to burn even more, and Lorne struggled to hold on.
“That’s it. We’re almost there,” he encouraged as we neared the bars.
I wanted to snap back at him, but I didn’t have the energy, every ounce of strength needed to push us higher. Then, my back muscles cramped and spasmed.
“Get on the bars,” I gritted out, fighting through the pain.
Looking over his shoulder, Lorne released one of his arms from around my neck and reached for the monkey bars. Tears fell from my eyes and down my face, hitting the cracks from the fire. Every single part of my body throbbed or burned.
His hand missed the bar by a few inches. My body screamed in protest.
I’d clearly pissed off fate or something else out there that was determined for me to die in this trial, but I’d gone through too much to give up.
Not caring how weak I sounded, I screamed, letting out the torment I’d been in while giving myself one last little bit of strength. I managed to fly up one more inch, but no more.
“Got it!” Lorne shouted with relief, and his legs tightened around me. He then said, “Now it’s your turn to hold on because my leg isn’t healed all the way.” He released his other arm, and as soon as he held his own weight, my wings gave out and flopped limply behind me.
Even though I didn’t remember having wings, I didn’ t have to be a brain surgeon to know that having them hanging flat like that wasn’t a good sign. My back had a deep ache from the strain I’d put on my body.
Lorne didn’t move as he adjusted to carrying our weight, and when I glanced up, I saw the strain on his face. I needed to get up on the monkey bars too, though my arms felt like mashed potatoes.
Taking a deep breath, I reached out and took the bar in front of him.
“I can carry you across,” he insisted behind me.
I untangled my body from his, and the hair on the nape of my neck rose like a warning. If he helped me, he would believe I owed him, and I didn’t want to get in the same situation as Tavish was with Eldrin. My arms strained, but luckily, my wings had taken the brunt of his weight. My dad had always made sure that Eiric and I pushed our bodies to the limit, so I should be able to push through the shaky sensation as long as Lorne moved quickly enough. “I’m fine. Let’s get going. This platform could collapse at any moment.” I didn’t have to add that I couldn’t fly again because my wings were convulsing faintly at my sides.
He moved forward, joining me on the same bar, wide enough for us to work together. We locked eyes and nodded then moved to the next one. With each bar, my arms weakened more, and we had at least thirty more to go.
On the platform in front of us, Dougal, Bran, Rona, and Moira fought the person they had been chained to. It was clear that Bran and Rona weren’t part of Lorne’s group, and everyone wanted to reduce their sentence the best way they knew possible—by killing each other.
My stomach dropped. There was no telling what awaited us. How could Tavish have created this sort of cruelty for his people to enjoy in the name of justice? No wonder his subjects had no problem turning on him when things got rough—that was the attitude he’d allowed Eldrin to encourage.
Anger roared through me, and adrenaline burned off the edge of pain and soreness and drove me on.
But Lorne slowed beside me.
Now, it was my turn to annoy him and tell him something he already knew. “Only ten more bars.” The end was in sight, and this was the last bit we had to push through. “If we die now, I swear I’ll find a way to bring you back just so I can kill you with my bare hands, night fiend.” The insult rolled off my tongue, though I didn’t remember hearing it before.
Lorne laughed, startling me. The material of my shirt was still wrapped around my hands, which was the only reason I didn’t slip off the bar.
“I never would’ve thought I’d be so happy to see your wings and memories coming back, but I won’t lie. I’m relieved.” He continued forward like a little bit of energy had infused him.
Dougal stepped away from his fight and glanced at us. His jaw dropped as Bran rounded on him, but Dougal pointed at us. “Blighted abyss, Lorne and the sunscorched made it.”
“That’s blasting impossible.” Bran pulled his punch and blinked like we had to be a mirage. He then spat, “And the wildling got her wings.”
All four of them forgot about fighting each other as they stared me down with hatred etched in every line of their faces.
My heart dropped to my stomach. I already knew how this would go down. They’d team up on me, including Lorne, and why not? As long as they killed me without me falling off the platform, Lorne would be fine. We’d made it through the obstacle course to the end of the second gauntlet.
It’ll be fine, I lied to myself. I made it this far. I can finish the last bit without dying. Even as I tried to motivate myself, my blood ran cold. The truth told a different story. I was wounded, exhausted, and dehydrated. The last thing I needed was a fight, but by the same token, they should all be as bad off as me. We’d survived the same obstacles, though none of them had been paired with an injured person.
We reached the end of the bars, and the four of them stayed back, no doubt waiting until Lorne was safe before attacking. Even the siblings seemed to hesitate when it came to Lorne, which made me wonder whether he held some sort of power over them.
Needing my strength, I dropped to the platform. Pure agony raged from the bottom of my feet, raw from the fire, and my knees went weak and wanted to crumple. I forced them to lock and my feet to stay firm on the ground. I refused to show my weakness.
Lorne landed next to me, and we faced the other four, but I knew that wouldn’t last long.
Rona moved forward. Her eyes darkened as she readied to fight me again.
They’d have to blow the horn soon, surely.
Not wanting to be near the edge of the platform, I moved toward her, and her eyes widened with surprise.
She threw a punch and nailed me right in the chin. My head jerked to the side, and a sharp ache shot through my face, but I punched her in the stomach.
Stumbling back, she let out an oomph, but my victory was short-lived. Moira grabbed one of my wings and yanked, pulling the muscle away from the others. My body moved toward her to overcompensate for the strain, and she stomped on my foot.
A strangled cry escaped me, revealing how much pain I was in. I tried to move away, but the chain linking me to Lorne tightened, keeping me right in their grips.
Of course he’d turn on me now that he was safe. Our little bit of teamwork didn’t mean anything long term.
“I’m getting in on that.” Bran chuckled darkly. “They can’t have all the fun.”
I swallowed. There was no escape, but I wouldn’t die without a blazing fight.
I leaned toward Moira and slammed my forehead against hers. Her body wobbled, allowing me to free my foot—though it felt like I left a slab of skin behind on the platform—and yank my wing from her grasp.
Rona slammed into my side, forcing me toward the edge of the platform. I kept waiting for the men to attack as well, but then I heard the punches and groans of fighting.
As long as it prevented them from reaching me, they could rip each other in half.
I spun toward Lorne, having no option with our chain, catching Rona off guard. Clearly, she hadn’t expected me to head toward the men.
Elbowing her in the back, I focused on Lorne, who was fighting Bran and forcing Dougal to stay back. I wouldn’t complain about that.
Rona landed on her knees, and I kicked her in the side, moving her to the platform’s edge. Her hands gripped the side to prevent herself from going over, but something came over me. If I didn’t end her, they’d tag-team me in the next round. Pushing her off the ledge would eliminate two enemies.
I’d taken two hurried steps, ignoring the pain and readying to kill Rona, when my heart caught up with my brain.
What the hell was I thinking? How could I end someone’s life just because they’d been raised to believe this was how they needed to be? This wasn’t her fault; this broken kingdom and, unfortunately, Tavish were to blame.
Arms wrapped around my waist, jerking me hard so that the side of my body hit the floor and throbbed with debilitating pain. I could’ve sworn I’d been skinned and filleted.
Moira sneered as she stood over me and rasped, “You could’ve ended us, but you froze. Ignorant sunscorched.” She straddled me and reached out to strangle me despite the blackened blisters on her palms.
She gripped my neck, and I inhaled deeply, readying to make the last move I could with the remaining strength I had.
When her hands touched my neck, warm blood from her seared hands coated my skin. Her face twisted in misery, and she couldn’t squeeze hard enough to constrict my air.
Not wasting any time, I lifted my head like I was going to headbutt her again. She jerked back enough so that I rolled, throwing her off balance. She landed on her side, and I struggled to my feet just as the horn blew.
Relief soared through me, and I dropped back to the ground, unable to stay upright. My body burned like flames engulfed me, and I was certain this was how death felt. Please tell me I didn’t survive the game just to die as soon as it’s over .
The platform began to lower, and I opened my eyes. All six of us lay there.
This trial had been so much worse than the first one, which made me fear for the last one. How could any of us survive something worse?
With every inch we lowered, I waited for the nightmare gas to engulf us, but the arena walls came into view, indicating we were close to the ground. The fog had dispersed.
Once the platform was lowered, Eldrin flew to us and scowled at me. “Congratulations to the six of you. The fighting and obstacle course of the game is over, and you’ll officially be through when you exit the arena and the guards unchain you.” He steepled his hands and smiled. “After this round, we’ll select the team of two who won and give them access to their powers for the final challenge.”
My heart sank. He wanted all of us to get up and walk across the dirt to complete the trial. At that moment, Eldrin became the one person I could kill with zero guilt.
He was a monster … and something tugged at my brain like it wanted to be known.
I tried to sit up, but my body refused. What would happen if I couldn’t make it to the door?
Lorne got up slowly beside me and stared down at me. He flinched, and a sour taste filled my mouth.
He was going to drag my ass out the door.
Instead, he squatted beside me, and cold tendrils of fear squeezed my heart. I lifted my hands, ready to keep him from strangling me. I doubted anyone would stop him.
“Blighted abyss, Lira.” He shook his head and frowned. “Don’t make this any harder than it has to be. If you don’t fight, it’ll go much faster and easier.”
After all this, he thought I’d lie here and allow him to kill me ?
I glanced at Eldrin to see if he would intervene, but he only smiled.
Lorne leaned forward, extending his hands toward me, and I clutched a handful of dirt, ready to throw it in his face.
Then, he did something I never expected him to do.