33. Chapter 33
Yareli had been wrong about blending in.
She rolled her sleeves up, appreciating the thin fabric in the warmer night air; more akin to early fall weather than early winter’s chill kiss, the arena’s lower elevation meant the temperature was higher.
She rubbed her sweaty hands on her thighs.
Although she passed as Fae, her short stature and fresh face gave her away in a crowd of comrades.
She couldn’t possibly be Fire Court; however, no one dared to complain about an outsider participating.
The red patch on her left breast identified who had invited her.
Instead, they whispered amongst themselves while sending an occasional appraising look her way.
Yareli tapped her foot, wishing the challenge would start already.
At last, the noise died down as the Fire Court’s trifecta stood up. Dragon General Andre stepped forward, his sleeveless black uniform showcasing countless scars that attested to many battles.
“Our dearest citizens, we once again gather for our decennial Fire Festival to witness our fellow comrades undertake the challenges that will determine their futures. Only through proven merit will they advance further.”
The crowd cheered, the volume shrill in Yareli’s ears.
Everyone seemed bright-eyed, as if being up late was normal.
She, in contrast, could feel her exhaustion held at bay by the adrenaline coursing through her veins.
Cozy blankets, a hearth, and a cup of tea.
It sounded marvelous. Drums startled her out of her thoughts.
Andre’s voice boomed over the sound. “Let the Fire Festival begin.”
The ground rumbled, climbing high into the sky. A starting line appeared at its base. She frowned. A race? She could do that. She walked toward the line with everyone, but many gave her a dirty look and blocked her path forward. Message received, she thought, and hung toward the back.
Andre explained, “The challenge is simple—complete the obstacle course in three hours. Make it to the finish line alive without using magic, and you pass.”
She blanched. Did he say “alive”?
Her stomach churned; last night’s dinner crawled up her throat.
Her heart thudded painfully against her ribs in tune with the drums. A resounding gong sounded, and the competitors surged forward, pushing past Yareli, as if she were another obstacle.
She let them, curious to see how they would tackle the first hurdle.
She jogged behind the stragglers until she reached the top of the hill.
A mile of burning coal interspersed with tiny safety islands awaited her.
Some Fae were rushing through it as fast as possible, while others went slow and steady across it, but none hesitated.
Yareli blew air past her lips. “Holy shit.”
Balance was crucial; if she slipped, her feet would be maimed for the rest of the course.
Talk about sadism. She almost wanted to flip the bird at Allyah, but disrespecting a general from another court was probably a bad move.
She took a couple of steps back for a running start.
The first safety landing was a small rectangular slate that required her to leap.
Yareli Ines Martinez, en qué tipo de locura te haz metido?
Yareli heard her mom scolding her in her head, and it gave her pause.
She was right, of course. Entering the festival was a fool’s endeavor, but her mom wasn’t there and didn’t know what was at stake.
Yareli took off, trusting that she would make the jump.
She tittered in place, waving her arms in circles and swearing until she regained her balance.
That was too close. The coal’s heat was intense, so much so that she doubted it was normal.
She wiped the sweat off her brow and hopped on the monkey bars in front of her.
By the time Yareli made it across, her shoulders ached and groaned, and to her relief, a balancing beam was next.
It went a far distance, but if she went slow and steady, she could probably make it. Probably.
“Okay, one foot in front of the other,” she whispered, watching her feet.
She was halfway across, inching closer to the next landing, when a loud yell interrupted her focus. Her head shot up. A Fae heaved himself up onto a swaying bridge, the holes in his clothes still sizzling from its contact with the coals.
Fear stirred in her lower abdomen, freezing her feet in place; the precarious nature of her situation was suddenly upon her.
She had been lucky, she realized, that the first challenge required no magic.
It wasn’t easy, however. It demanded balance, strength, and endurance.
Hesitation was punishing, fear was failure.
She closed her eyes, wanting nothing more than to crouch and crawl to the end of the beam, but if she did, no one would respect her. She dug her nails into her palm, then forced herself to keep moving, taking it slow.
She all but leaped to the safety landing and bent over with her hands on her knees, out of breath from both heat and tension.
Once she recuperated, she looked up and observed four safety landings in a row.
She had to hop on them like they were rocks in a river, except the water was on fire.
Luckily for her, her hops were more solid than her initial jump at the beginning of the course, and she breezed past it.
She was now at the swaying bridge. There didn’t seem to be a pattern to its movements; it moved to a song only it knew. It would be brute force, then.
She wiped her hands and shook them to relax the muscles before she grabbed onto the railings.
The moment her feet stepped onto the bridge, a howling wind pummeled her body, every step a battle.
Not daring to let go of the railing, she dragged her hands on the rope, suffering splinters.
Her progress was slow, but steadier than the balancing beam had been.
Hopeful she’d make it out scratch-free, unlike the poor Fae earlier, she quickened her pace, seeing the end in the near distance.
Then, a strong gust roared and flipped the world one hundred and eighty degrees. For a split second, she was weightless as the bridge inverted, and Yareli spun with it.
Her boots scraped along the coals, their soles instantly burned through, and she cried out in pain.
She raised her legs up, straining to get a better grip on the railings.
Her shoulders screamed as the relentless wind pushed against her, demanding she let go, but she refused.
Leo and Bri hadn’t drilled her with core exercises for the past few months to fail now.
She gritted her teeth and propelled herself forward one arm at a time, pushing until she reached the end of the bridge. Gasping for breath, she looked at the ledge in front of her. There was no choice. She’d have to let go of the bridge in order to heave herself up to the ground.
Yareli waited for a lull in the gusts before she hooked her hand on the ground’s edge. The second hand was easier. Hanging for a brief moment, she gathered her strength, the coal’s heat stung her exposed feet, and with a grunt, she hauled herself up onto the ledge.
“Me duele,” she gasped, dragging herself farther in until her whole body was on solid ground.
Her muscles burned, and her lungs ached.
All she wanted to do was lie there for an undetermined amount of time, but she was dead last, and she had no way of knowing how much time was left.
Grunting, she sat up and pushed her legs out in front of her, bringing one of her feet toward her.
The boot’s sole was melted, her foot bright red and tender to the touch.
At least it hadn’t burned through her skin.
At least. She threw her shoes to the side and made her way toward the next obstacle—a towering cliff where Fae, without any climbing gear, scaled it.
“Yeah, why would they give us gear?” she grumbled, already over the whole thing.
Her feet protested every step, sending jolts of pain as if asking why the hell she was still walking.
By the time she reached the bottom of the cliff, she had regained her breath, and her core no longer screamed.
She’d have to thank Leo and Bri later for their insistence on strength training, because she would have never survived that bridge otherwise.
The stone cliff towered over her, and Yareli didn’t see many ledges to stop and rest in between.
Even if her feet hadn’t been injured, it was a challenging climb.
With the state of her body, it was going to be brutal.
She shifted her weight, arching her head to look up. “Fuck, I really don’t want to do this.”
The sound of a gong was followed by Andre’s voice. “An hour and a half left. Persevere, candidates.”
She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, fuck you. I bet this cliff was your idea.” She climbed anyway, afraid of running out of time.
Her muscles shrieked the moment she began, but she pushed through it, desperate to reach the top as fast as possible.
She stopped when she could, giving herself a couple of minutes to regain her breath.
It wasn’t as frightening as the obstacle course had been; it was a test of endurance, and if Yareli was anything, it was stubborn.
She reached the top after what felt like a millennium.