CHAPTER 5 #2
“That won’t matter when you’re in the challenges. Blocking and dodging is basic survival.”
“Please, tell me more about how I can’t even master the basics.” Sarcasm dripped from my voice.
He reached out a hand to help me up. “Again.”
I tried and pitifully failed my next few attempts to block and dodge, receiving blows to the other side of my body – after which, Kilian smugly reminded me that an attacker would not repeat their moves. I heaved for air as I climbed back to my feet, ignoring the hand he offered.
I hadn’t had a chance to catch my breath, let alone survey the others in the room, but I took a moment now to quickly assess them.
I was relieved to find that they didn’t seem to be much better off than I was.
Anama’s skin was a mottled red from where her instructor had just dealt her a blow to the face, and Rayna’s cut above her brow was bleeding again as Echon prowled around her, like a jaguar hunting prey.
I allowed myself to be distracted by the others for five seconds. That was all it took for Kilian to sweep a leg beneath mine. I keeled forward, my hands slamming out just in time to prevent me from breaking my nose. The impact rocked my bones. I winced as I rolled onto my back, staring up at him.
“Don’t ever lose focus during a fight,” he intoned.
I huffed, shoved to my feet and stalked toward him.
His brows rose as I made it all the way to his chest and jabbed a finger right in the center of his breastplate.
“If you’re so great at blocking and dodging, then why don’t you take all this fancy armor off and show me how it’s done? Unless you’re afraid you’ll get hurt?”
“Hurt?” He scoffed. “By you?”
I didn’t know whether to be offended or angry. I settled for both. “I would have successfully stabbed you earlier if it weren’t for this.” I poked the armor again. “So, yeah. I’d say you have something to worry about.”
His fingers reached for the sides of his breastplate, deftly working at the buckles.
The metal fell to the ground with a clatter, revealing a plain white shirt, the material loose against him.
I watched in horror as his fingers caught the hem of his shirt, pulling the thin fabric over his head to reveal…
I actually couldn’t breathe.
I wasn’t sure if it was from the impact my fall had on my lungs or just sheer stupidity, but fuck.
His abdomen rippled as he moved, the muscles firm and taut beneath acres of tan, golden skin, marred only by thin silver flecks and jagged ridges of scar tissue where it looked like a blade had slashed him several times.
“No one asked you to take your shirt off.” My tongue was dry. “The armor would have sufficed.”
“You implied that I needed protection. I don’t feel like leaving that up for debate. So, go on.” He motioned for me to come closer.
I really didn’t want to, but my traitorous, prideful body stepped forward.
I braced my feet against the mat, one arm raised to my face, the other angling for his ribs.
I channeled my fear of not passing the first challenge, the sizzling hatred I felt toward Echon, toward Kilian, and even Septimus for hauling me to this land to die.
I channeled my worry for Umma, voiceless in Serila, and the new, tentative friendships I had made so far.
The adoration I felt for Lana, which would cause nothing but misery and heartache if she didn’t make it through the Trials.
And then I swung. With every bit of loathing and wrath my aching muscles could muster.
Bone crunched as it met a forearm that may as well have been made of granite. Sharp pain sluiced through my arm, and it took me a second to realize that it wasn’t his bone that had fractured, but mine.
“Motherfucker,” I groaned, cradling my hand to my chest.
His forearm hadn’t even bruised. It was as if I hadn’t touched him. Fury pulsed through my pain, and I jerked my leg forward, aiming for the one spot I knew would bring him to his knees.
But Kilian blocked with ease, one hand gripping under my knee and twisting so that I no longer faced him.
The forearm I had uselessly attacked wrapped around my throat.
He pressed hard enough to tell me I was well and truly trapped, but not enough to block my airflow.
His body was warm stone behind me. His muscles tensed when I dropped my head against his chest, exhausted from the exertion of staying upright.
“Are you going to give up this easily?” he taunted. His breath skirted across my cheek, tickling the hair plastered there. I felt something dark and ravenous replace the wrath in my core. “Like you did the night we took you from your home?”
Cold fury leaked through my veins until my vision tinged red.
If he was trying to goad me back into fighting, it was sure as hell working.
I stomped down on his foot, hard, and it surprised him long enough for me to get out of his hold.
Dropping to the mat, I swiveled, sweeping my ankle against his.
But it was like trying to kick at stone.
In one motion, he had me pinned on my stomach, face pressed into the rubber.
His hand gripped my arms above my head and his knee dug into my lower back.
“If you ever have the element of surprise, you’ll need to be stronger than that. That was a pitiful attempt. Do better, Golund.”
That was it. The final straw. If he was going to pummel me to a crisp, he should at least have the decency to call me by my real name.
“My name isn’t Golund,” I ground out against the rubber mat. “It’s Aldhur.”
The pressure on my back disappeared, and I nearly moaned in relief. I didn’t have time to relish the feeling, however. Kilian rapidly rolled me around to face him.
“What do you mean your name isn’t Golund?” His voice rumbled as he towered above me, all gilded skin and storm cloud eyes. “You’re the governor’s daughter.”
I was keenly aware of the scene he was making, his voice loud and harsh in the now silent sparring room, the others all turned to observe us.
“Am I?” I rose into a sitting position, too enthralled with the rage curling his lip to even feel the pain that engulfed my entire body.
His jaw clenched so hard I was surprised his teeth didn’t break. “We searched the entire house. You are the same age. The governor confirmed it.”
“Yet I am not her.” I didn’t know why he needed the governor’s daughter, but it was clear she had been the intended candidate of choice.
Not me. Satisfaction coursed through me as his eyes flashed thunderously.
“Had your lackey not silenced my mother before she could tell you, you would have known that I am not the governor’s daughter.
I am Lirahna Aldhur, scullery cook, and now your prized candidate in the Mortal Trials. ”
His face contorted with pure rage. Lightning – brilliant, purple strands of pure energy – sizzled along his skin. The air crackled, and the walls of the large hall seemed to shrink. Thunderclouds boomed so loud they might have been inside, and with such a ferocity that my teeth chattered.
The room plunged into darkness as every single sconce of light shattered, shards of glass raining down on the floor. The only illumination in the room was the purple energy vibrating from Kilian, and the golden orbs of Septimus’ eyes as he crossed the room.
He placed one hand tentatively on Kilian’s shoulder, the lightning skittering along Kilian’s skin not seeming to bother him.
Septimus murmured something inaudible to the elven staring down at me with pure, undiluted wrath.
Kilian ground his teeth together, nodding once in Septimus’ general direction.
He grabbed his shirt and armor from the ground and strode from the room without another look.
Septimus heaved an exasperated sigh as soon as Kilian left. The room cooled down with his exit, and my skin no longer felt like it was on fire. Septimus waved a hand and soft, golden light filled the space.
“You should have told him sooner,” Septimus said, his voice tired and strained.
He reached a hand to help me up, but I ignored it as I pushed off the ground.
I flinched at the explosion of pain in my ribs, the side of my head, my wrist – yesterday’s wound bleeding afresh – and pinky.
In fact, there wasn’t an inch of my body that didn’t hurt.
“When was I supposed to do that?” I shot at him, trying to ignore the pounding of blood in my ears.
“When your friend cursed my mother? When you drugged me and put me to sleep for a week? Or perhaps I should have said something while I was fighting for my life in the death trap I woke up in.” The words clawed out of me, spiteful and bitter, as if they had a life of their own.
Septimus shook his head. “It is regrettably unfortunate how events have unfolded.”
“Unfortunate? I have lost everything. We all have.” I gestured to the others around me. “It is not unfortunate. It’s a godsdamned tragedy.”
Tears prickled at the corners of my eyes, and I turned quickly so the elven wouldn’t have the pleasure of witnessing my heart break, just as my fragile bones had. Without waiting for a dismissal, I marched for the door, my steps so hurried I was nearly running.
I exited the sparring room, turning right at the stairwell, unsure where I was even going. We were surrounded by nothing but icy mountains.
“Hey. Wait up!” The voice was female, but not one I was familiar with. It sounded both old and young. Harmonic, like several chords had struck together to create it.
I paused on the steps and turned to see Anama’s instructor a few feet behind me. The female elven was staggeringly beautiful. Her copper hair, tucked behind her pointed ears, shone even in the dim lighting of the stairwell.
“You’re in a hurry. Going somewhere?” she asked, falling into step beside me.