Chapter 26
Chapter
Twenty-Six
TATE
Today is the final part of the competition.
This evening, we’ll know the flight to represent our Aerie, and I pray to all the gods who are willing to listen that it will be ours.
We came in third in the first round, a fact that irks me.
I try especially hard to ignore the fact that Ara could have secured a win easily, but chose not to.
We still have a chance, but we also have strong competitors.
The atrium is already filled with everyone competing, while riders, who are not part of the trials, line the windows of the building around us. Some even climbed up on the roofs. There is chatter, laughter, and excitement.
Despite what is in it for us, most riders see this as a day full of entertainment, a friendly competition, nothing more.
Everyone hopes for a flight of their own division to win, and I have seen coins change hands more than once, but overall, the atmosphere is festive, and no matter who wins, they will celebrate it. But that is not enough for me, I need us to win.
“Okay, everyone, we went over this.” I raise my voice to be heard over the ruckus around us.
“You all know which competitions you are in?” My flight nods.
“You planned it out as well?” I address the decurions of the other three flights, and they confirm.
“Well then, riders, may the gods be in your favor and all your strikes hit true. And remember, no unnecessary risks,” I let my eyes rest on Ara.
At first, she gives me nothing, but then there is a nearly imperceptible nod, and that is more than I hoped for.
My sword fight is up first, so I don’t have time to dwell on it. My first opponent is a middle-aged rider from the northern division. Like many riders, including myself, he fights with two short swords. And while he is very skilled, I’m faster, a detail that helps me win the first round.
All of the competitions today are elimination style. Two riders of every flight compete per discipline, so thirty-two riders start.
Three rounds will occur in the first half of the day, with a resting period following. The semi-finals and finals of every discipline will take place in the afternoon and evening. It will be a long day and hopefully a victorious one.
Everyone starts in two disciplines, and there isn’t much time to observe others, but since our names keep showing up on the blackboard announcing the next rounds, we are doing great so far.
I planned for this since I started at the Aerie, choosing every member of my flight for their skills and gifts. Everyone but Ara and her friends, another way she manipulated my efforts, while accusing me to manipulate her.
Was that your way of softening me up for this damn competition?
The crowd cheers, and I turn toward the noise. Just in time to see Ara rise and dust herself off. Her victorious smile dims when she notices me, then Cassius hugs her, congratulating her on the win.
Irritation sweeps through me, and I turn away.
Keeping her alive and winning the trials is all that matters.
My opponent doesn’t even know what hit him when I work off my anger on him. He doesn’t get to do anything but parry, retreating again and again, and finally ends up in the dust, my crossed swords at his neck.
I take a deep breath and release it slowly, centering myself once again. It doesn’t matter … it can’t matter what Ara is doing.
My other discipline is less action and more concentration, focus. Ara sparring, watching someone go at her, maybe even hurting her, would not help with that, so I leave the sword fights behind and watch Mariel Tethys destroy her opponent by locating areas on a map at lightning speed instead.
Observation is ingrained in my soul, it’s survival. So spotting the illusions created to camouflage and trick us is easy, and I breeze through the competitions, effortlessly advancing to the third round.
“You look pleased,” Tanner steps up next to me, studying the blackboard, and then grins. “And I see now why. Even our first years are still in. I’d say this round goes to us, eh?”
“Let’s not count the chicks before they hatch, but yes, we are doing pretty well so far.
” My eyes run over the list. The names for the third round of competitions with spears, swords, crossbows, and daggers are already complete.
The other rows are still missing a few names.
“Have you had a chance to watch one of the newcomers compete?”
“Our redhead threw a guy nearly twice her size to the mat as if he weighed nothing, and Ara flew through the first round of the obstacle course. I didn’t have the chance to watch their other rounds, though.”
“What about Ilario?”
“He is the flirting champ, and wrapped Zaza around his fingers last time I saw him,” he winks, and his white teeth sparkle against his sun-tanned face.
“No, all jokes aside. Zaza said he did well in his first two rounds. And since she is a queen with daggers, I’ll take that to mean he dominated them. ”
I nod, watching a rider write down the missing names in the rows of the map orientation and obstacle course. We are still in. All of us, and I dare to hope.
Zaza is laughing about something Calix said, while they walk up to us. Seems like Jared is getting competition.
“And you don’t?” Daeva taunts, but I don’t allow myself to get distracted by that thought. Today is only about the qualification. There is no space for anything else.
The first ones to drop out are Boko, whose opponent’s aim with the spear was just a tad better, and Calix, who did great at tracking, but the seasoned rider he was up against was a bit quicker.
It’s alright, I tell myself we can still make it, but the two flights competing with us for the top are not doing badly either.
ARA
“And I thought for the final rounds, we’d change it up a little.” Foley's eyes land on me. This can't mean anything good. “Since I don't want to spoil the surprise, the candidates will start right after each other. Please take your marks.”
I exchange a glance with Jared. That we are both still in bodes well for our team, but after Foley’s comment…
A loud gong gives us the go, and I start into the obstacle course that has been changed again. But how much so becomes clear once I'm balancing over the first beam. Suddenly, it shudders and starts to rotate. Right when I’m in the middle of it, how convenient.
I leap for the platform and grunt when my feet miss it by a finger’s length. I throw my arms out, and the air is driven out of me when my upper body hits the edge, my fingers searching for purchase on the wooden boards. A splinter lodges under one of my fingernails, and I curse.
A short push against the still rotating beam helps me push myself fully up, and I scramble to my feet, trying to ignore the pain in my chest and fingers. I hiss as I pull out the splinter and curse when it breaks off.
This round will be different, alright.
My relief of having solid planks under my feet is short-lived when something whistles past my face and makes me stumble back a step.
Huge alternating pendulums swing in front of me; they must have been released once I stepped on the platform.
They swing in a pattern that requires me to get the timing right or risk being pushed off the beam that starts right in front of me. Great.
I focus on my next steps. And once the pendulum passes me, I slip past it. The next one swooshes past my face before I take another step and inch my way across.
I’m careful this time and prepared for something else to come at me as soon as I leave the last pendulum behind.
Whatever else Foley planned for me, it won’t surprise me. Or so I hope. Because let’s face it, he did plan this for me and not the other three contestants.
It's a good thing I’m alert, and I managed to duck in time for the blade to miss me. Ducking, weaving, jumping, and rolling, I make my way to the rope waiting for me at the end, pretending I'm in a sword fight instead of an obstacle course.
Misjudging the speed of a blade coming at my foot makes me stumble and fall, but thankfully, the leather holds. Doing the rest with a cut-up foot would not have been fun at all. My hands throb from the impact, my finger pulses, a shallow scratch mars one of my palms, but other than that, I’m fine.
I’m nearly through the slashy part of the course when a blade comes hurtling out of nowhere, thumping to a quivering stop where my hand was seconds ago.
I stay low, conscious of the metal rotating above my head, and try to figure out where it had come from.
When I find Foley’s hateful gaze on me, I have the answer.
Another blade comes flying, and I charge forward.
My only hope to get out of this alive is to be faster. To make myself into a difficult target.
I'm gaining on Jared, who is right in front of me, hangmanning over open space.
Dammit. I will be a sitting duck on there.
I look around searching for alternatives, when I spot a dangling rope on the stud right behind me.
I don’t take the time to consider, but grab it and take a running start, just when Jared reaches the other side.
At my pounding steps, he whirls around, his eyes widening slightly, but I’m already airborne.
I have one take at this. Swinging back will slam me against the wood it is attached to.
So, when I reach the highest point, I let go and pray it is far enough.
I drop down, the platform coming closer.
Shit, this is going to be close again. I brace for the impact and collide with a solid body. Jared’s arms come around me, steadying me.
“I’ve got you. Thank the heavens I have you,” he mumbles, pulling me away from the edge. “Why did you—”
But he doesn’t get farther than that before an arrow sinks into the space I just occupied. “Fuck,” he breathes. “Let’s go. Go ahead so I can see you,” he instructs, while we run for the net right in front of us.
My senses are sharp for any sounds or movements while I speed up even more, taking the course in a well past reckless manner, determined to get out of here alive.
A gift is reaching for me, and when I realize it’s Jared’s, I let it. There is a thump behind me when a star-shaped throwing blade comes to a quivering stop, a few steps behind me. Thank the gods the aim was off.
I glance at Foley, and I'm surprised to find his gaze focused on the space between Jared and me. Then I realize what's going on—illusions. Jared is keeping me safe from Foley's special treatment by making it seem like I’m a few steps farther back.
There is a gasp behind me, followed by the sucked in breath of the crowd below. When I whirl around I find Jared missing. Then I spot the fingers at the edge of the platform.
I hurry back and throw myself on my stomach at the edge of it, clasping Jared’s arms.
“Go on, I’ve got this,” he grunts. But one of his hands is bloody and slipping because of it.
“On three,” I tell him. Ignoring the sting when something grazes my right leg.
“If you get shot because of me…” On my command, he hoists himself up, while I pull and then scoot back to give him room to scramble up the rest of the way.
“That I wasn’t yet is thanks to you,” I tell him. “So it would be especially shitty to let you fall, don’t you think?” I help him up, and both our eyes widen when something hurtles through the space between us.
“Go,” he yells, and we turn and run.
I concentrate on the course in front of me and try to speed up even more. Jared’s magic that faltered during his fall is back, but it's only a matter of time until Foley realizes what's going on.
I don’t even think of our competitors, while we rush through the rest of the course. When I jump to the ground, Jared drops his illusion. I land, roll, and come up. My hands instantly find my knees, taking in gulping breaths.
My throat is raw, a coppery taste on my tongue, and my heartbeat is so loud it drowns out everything else, but I'm still alive. I'm tempted to flop down on my back, but that would be a bad idea since someone might still be aiming at me. Jared is next to me within seconds.
“Let's get you out of here,” he murmurs, stepping between me and Foley, shielding me with his body.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“Don't mention it. And I thank you ,” he says. “Not many would have come back.”
“I’m glad I did,” I tell him, and I’m rewarded by one of his brilliant smiles.
“Me too. Let's go see the healers.”