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Eldrion called out for her to descend, asserting she had shown enough. But she didn’t want to give up yet. She wanted to defy his low expectations. Even as he repeated his order in a louder voice, she ignored it and continued the climb, so sure she could get higher.

Anthea let out a scream as her foot slipped, and she stumbled. She managed to halt her fall by gripping the wooden plank beneath her, hands wrapping around it like a vine.

“Get back up!” Eldrion’s voice boomed from the cavern floor.

Her palms were slick, her grip weak and unreliable. She glanced down, and immediately wished she hadn’t.

A deafening silence blanketed the room as the warriors watched the spectacle unfold.

“Anthea! Hold on!” Eldrion’s command reverberated off the rock walls.

Anthea knew climbing up wasn’t an option. Her hands were slippery, and her muscles screamed in protest, there was no way she could lift herself. She glanced down again. She was so high up. There was another plank almost in parallel with her further down. If she aimed just right, then maybe . . .

Not giving herself time to second guess her decision?—

She let go.

Anthea plummeted down, colliding with the lower plank, wrapping her arms and legs around it. The impact shot through her, the rough surface of the wood gnawing into her skin, sure to leave bruises.

“Anthea!” Eldrion’s voice seemed to come from above her. He sounded worried.

She was much closer to the ground now.

Almost there.

Releasing her hold the second time, she let herself drop the remaining distance, the impact knocking the breath out of her.

“What in the gods do you think you were doing?” Eldrion flung himself from the second level of the obstacle, storming toward her, his gray eyes ablaze.

Slowly, Anthea pushed herself up to her feet, her legs quivering under her weight. Bruises were bound to form, and her muscles ached, but she held her head high, determined to hide her defeat.

“Well, I couldn’t get back up, so I just thought I’d . . . you know . . . come down.”

“That is not how you come down, Anthea!” he snapped, raking a hand through his black hair.

“Well, it seemed like a pretty effective method to me,” she fired back, her chin lifted, her pain momentarily forgotten.

For a moment, Eldrion just stared at her, his mouth opening and closing and then?—

“Do not ever do that again!” He took a step closer to her, his voice rough with frustration. “You need to stop this habit of jumping from heights.”

“Well, maybe you should’ve thought of that before you ordered me to climb.” She wouldn’t let Eldrion bully her into submission.

“You foolish little?—”

“You are too harsh on her, El.” Beldor placed a hand on Eldrion’s shoulder. He had come up with the warrior with whom he had been in a mock fight with earlier. “Are you alright, Anthea?”

A nod was all she could manage, suppressing the throbbing pain radiating from her side.

The other warrior assessed her with a curious hazel gaze. “That was a rather . . . interesting approach,” he said, the corners of his lips pulling into a smirk.

“Do not encourage her, Fyrlion.” Eldrion refocused his attention on Anthea. “Balance exercises. Now!”

“But I—” she tried to object, but was quickly silenced by a stern glare. Not wanting to anger him further, she complied.

Anthea raised her right leg, trying to keep her stance. The pain in her side was excruciating, making it hard to concentrate. She wobbled on her supporting foot, her arms flailing in the air as she tried to maintain her balance.

“Focus. Concentrate on your core,” Eldrion instructed. His eyes were fixed on her, assessing every movement.