Chapter 2
Chapter two
I’ve made a mistake.
It appears that sheer desire and fortitude of the mind aren’t enough to prevent me from keeling over and emptying the contents of my stomach. In fact, I’m not the only one. We all look like we’re on the verge of puking or passing out, and let’s be honest, it’s not a good look for any of us.
I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand and stare at the ground, hunched over and half broken.
Kintoira Academy sits at the very top of a steep mountain.
To get there, we have to make our way through a dense forest of pines and evergreens at a sharp incline.
The foliage is so thick that it blocks out any hint of the gloomy sky above.
I now understand why it’s widely known that you can easily get lost if you don’t know your way around these woods.
That’s also why it’s called The Forsaken Forest.
This place makes you feel fucking forsaken.
Today is going to suck.
All four thousand and forty-seven steps.
I did my research. It sucked when I discovered it, and that sentiment hasn’t deviated.
Salaryan may be known for her beauty, but she’s also a fickle bitch.
Between her deserts, snowcapped mountains, and turbulent oceans, she can’t decide if she wants you to admire her or if she wants to kill you.
This mountain wants to kill us if the feeling in my lungs is any indication.
Wincing, I stand and push the pine branches out of my face. Each breath becomes more painful than the last. I hurt in places I didn’t even think I could hurt.
I lean up against the bark of a nearby evergreen and let my pack slide off my shoulder.
We’re almost there. I quit counting the steps a while back because, frankly, it was becoming depressing, but I know we’re close. The bitter taste of self-doubt coats my tongue, leaving a residual taste of failure. I’ve worked way too hard to fail before I even get a chance to try.
A shoulder knocks into mine from behind, causing my arm to scrape against the rough bark. “We’re all tired. Keep moving,” an irritated voice growls as she passes by before stopping to turn and stare at me.
Uh, excuse you.
I let my gaze rake her from head to toe and back up again. A clear fuck-you gesture if there ever was one.
She’s almost twice my height, and without a doubt, has more muscle mass than I do.
The silver lip ring adds a desperate flare of wanting to be a badass, but sadly for her, it falls short.
I watch with casual disinterest as she tucks her shoulder-length bleached hair behind her ear.
Her makeup is smeared on the left side of her deep-set eyes.
The same eyes that are currently daring me to make the next move.
I can feel the irritation bubbling below my skin. The need to bite back. To give what I’m being given. I push it deep down like I’ve been doing for years. I’m way too tired for this, but if I don’t stand my ground now, I’ll lose all credibility among my peers.
I blow out a big breath and push off the tree. “I’m going to assume you’re just fatigued and not normally this much of a bitch,” I casually throw in her direction. Inside, I’m dreading this going any further, but on the outside, I’m as cool as a cucumber.
Her nostrils flare.
Yep. She wants to hit me.
Instead, she balls her fists and gives me a tight-lipped smile before roughly turning on her heel and pushing forward. Guess she’s too tired for this shit too. Thank the gods. I know without a doubt I would have gotten my ass handed to me.
“I’m off to a great start,” I reply under my breath, shaking my head.
A few prospective students walk around me, our little quarrel not fazing them in the least. When I bend down to pick up my pack from the damp, moss-covered floor, a pair of black combat boots, shoelaces untied and hanging haphazardly at the side, come into view.
“She’s pleasant,” a male voice drawls. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and room in the same hall as her.”
“I’d better sleep with one eye open, then,” I mutter, still staring at his boots as I tighten the strap of my pack.
I would rather roll all the way back down this mountain than share a hall with her. I know luck hasn’t been on my side lately, but that would be just unreasonable.
I fling the strap over my shoulder and rise, my eyes falling on the man who joined me.
A hint of amusement swims in his hazel eyes.
Ash-blond curls spring up all over his head, the ringlets perfectly in place, with not even one misbehaving.
Meanwhile, I look like I frolicked in a bog. Probably smell like it too.
“How are you not dying out here like the rest of us?” I genuinely ask.
“My brother graduated from the academy last year,” he says, grinning. “But before that, he was a pain in the ass who didn’t cut me any slack. He had me running laps and hiking shitty trails with him until he left for the academy a few years ago. I just continued doing it after he was already gone.”
I tuck that little tidbit of information away for a rainy day.
I bet he has quite a bit of knowledge that could be useful to a prospect.
I would think his brother gave him some tips on what to expect heading into this.
Unfortunately, I didn’t have time to get much information from Ambrose last night, and his letters were always vague and few and far between.
“Where’s he stationed now?” I ask as we start to walk, keeping my eyes on the terrain in front of me.
“He’s stationed at Crimson Tower near the Southern border.
He’s tasked with maintaining our walls just past the little trading village of Willikson.
I haven’t heard from him in a few weeks, though.
” His mouth moves around a small piece of pine straw that he picked up along the way.
“Which isn’t uncommon. It’s hard to pen letters back home when you’re out on patrol. ”
Being on patrol instead of locked in battle is a good sign that the walls are holding up against the bane of our existence.
Wraiths.
Their main goal in life is ending ours.
He extends his hand for me to take. “The name’s Finnley,” he says, moving the pine needle around from one side of his mouth to the other.
Without breaking stride, I reach out and take his hand. “Norissa, but everyone calls me Nori.”
It’s dusk by the time we arrive at the top of the mountain.
Shivering and exhausted, I pull my hood tighter around my face to protect it from the wind.
It’s fierce this high up, and the temperatures are dropping significantly, numbing my fingers and causing them to take on an indigo hue.
It feels as if a thousand little needles have buried themselves in my fingertips.
I shift my pack from one shoulder to the other, trying to balance the weight.
Both shoulders throb at this point, so I have just been bouncing it back and forth between the two for the past hour.
I don’t even have much in it, but with the incline and length of the hike, it feels like it’s filled with bricks.
Not one of us looks better than death. Except for Finnley. He looks like this is just another day for him. It’s completely abnormal and slightly terrifying.
We all stand around and stare at the large iron gate that stands between us and our destination, unsure of what to do next.
It looks formidable and very uninviting.
Finally, a girl with curly black hair falling over her shoulder opens the gate from the other side, the hinges creaking loudly as they swing.
She runs her sharp eyes over the large group, about a hundred of us in total.
Whatever she sees doesn’t impress her much.
Her lips pull into a tight sneer. “There are fewer of you than expected.” Given her solid-black attire, she’s definitely a Noctryn. She walks toward us with the intimidation factor that they wear like a second skin.
I wonder if it’s standard-issue by the academy.
I’m startled when I realize she’s looking directly at me, causing me to stand a little straighter. My shoulders are protesting, screaming at me that slouching is allowed right now, but I won’t. I meet her glare with an unflinching stare. I might be here on a whim and a prayer, but I will not cower.
She raises her right eyebrow slightly, seemingly surprised by my small act of defiance, before shifting her attention back to the group.
Her voice rises so the people in the back can hear her over the howling wind.
“You’ll follow me to the top. Stay in a single file line.
” Her glare pins us to the spot, like she’s speaking directly to each one of us, challenging us to disobey.
“Or don’t. You’ll fall, and your bones will join the others who also couldn’t follow directions.
” She gestures to the deep drop-off to the right of the narrow pathway leading upward.
I’m assuming that’s where said bones lie.
She doesn’t ask whether everyone heard or if they understood before briskly turning and stalking back through the gates she had opened.
The fact that she mentioned falling makes my skin crawl. There’s only one thing I hate worse than most people, and it’s heights. I try not to let the fear show on my face as Finnley joins me.
The other candidates whisper among themselves, either questioning their sanity or trying to build themselves up for the remaining climb. Our limbs protest and beg for a respite, but there isn’t one to give.
I wring my hands together to try to expel some of the nervous energy flowing through my body. This is going to suck on so many levels.
Finnley’s gaze passes over me. He can clearly see my discomfort at the situation. “I’ll go first. You follow.”
With a bow of my head, I don’t argue and follow him. Pride has no place in trying to stay alive. I realize this is it, the point of no return. Once I’m at the top, I’m fully committed.
No turning back.
Following his lead, I grab onto the rope that’s anchored into the side of the mountain and start the treacherous climb up. The pathway is so narrow that the only option is to put one foot in front of the other and hold on to the rope for dear life.
The wind batters us with its brutal intensity. I tuck my chin, trying to escape the onslaught, and make the mistake of looking down. My vision starts to blur, and my stomach feels like it just fell out.
Why would I look down? Everyone knows not to look down.
“Don’t look down,” Finnley yells over the wind in front of me.
Pulling myself together, I keep putting one foot in front of the other and stare straight ahead. I’ve got this.
A raindrop lands soundly on the tip of my nose.
Thunder cracks against the sky like a whip, causing me to jump and slip on the cold, damp stone.
My left knee twists during the quick motion before slamming into the ground with enormous force.
I panic and let go of the rope with my right hand, trying to find balance as my leg dangles precariously over the side of the mountain.
Pain shoots across my palm as the skin tears, the rope burrowing into my flesh as my full body weight is now being supported by one hand. Regardless of your size, it doesn’t matter when you’re hanging by one arm. It’s all dead weight at that point.
The rain is getting heavier, making everything more difficult. I try to pull myself back up, but I can’t find any leverage on the slippery stone. It doesn’t help that my upper body strength is severely lacking.
I probably should have worked on that sooner.
My leg keeps slipping every time I try to get a steady grip on my boot. If I wasn’t looking down before, I’m definitely looking down now.
The person behind me makes no move to help me—and why would they?
They’d be just as likely to join me in slipping off this damn mountain and have their bones added to the collection below us. What does it matter if I live or die to them?
In short, it doesn’t.
Out of nowhere, a hand reaches out and grabs my flailing arm, pulling me slowly and steadily back onto the path. After my heart stops trying to beat out of my chest, I wipe the hair and rain from my eyes as the downpour continues in a steady torrent.
I’m not dead.
A borderline hysterical laugh escapes as I look myself over. Blood drips from my palm where the rope dug in, and my knee is going to have a nasty bruise come tomorrow, but I’m alive.
A low whistle escapes Finnley’s mouth. “We’re going to really have to work on your self-preservation skills,” he yells over the wind and rain.
It appears I’m going to have to work on a lot of things.
I nod my head in thanks. “That was a close one,” I acknowledge, even though he can’t hear me. The shock and adrenaline are wearing off, and exhaustion is settling in. I want a hot shower, a warm bed, and the promise of nothingness.
Not necessarily in that order.
An hour later, we reach the top, and my night goes from bad to worse.