Page 69 of Immortal Origins (Chronicles of the Immortal Trials #1)

Ambrose raised her sword to block it but before they could connect, a dagger shot through the air and landed in the mage’s throat.

Her sword smacked his axe so violently, her arms shook but she managed to block it just as he clutched his bleeding throat with fat fingers.

Not even they were enough to stop the river that flowed from between them and he dropped to the ground, soaking it crimson.

Ambrose’s head shot to the new assailant, recognition and shock mixing on her face.

“ Lily? ” Ambrose shouted as Lily ran to her side, running her hands over her body for wounds to heal. Ambrose pushed her hands away. “I’m fine . What are you doing here?”

“I told you, I’d heal you.” Lily’s face was already coated with blood that Ambrose was smart enough to know wasn’t hers. She shook her head, deep red-brown waves bouncing around her head. The gold dagger hairpin was gone and most likely buried in a body somewhere.

“That’s not an explanation,” Ambrose demanded.

Lily dipped her head. “I’m sorry. I lied to you. I’m so sorry. I swear, I can explain everything.”

Her words sank in as Ambrose threw her dagger at an oncoming fighter, sinking it deep into his chest and he fell a few feet away from them.

Running to grab it, she finally saw what she hadn’t since the day they met.

What had made her unsure how much she could trust Lily. “Are you a Trial Champion? ”

Of course.

How had she been so blind?

Casimir said it at her trial.

‘No one may harm her outside of an agreed upon duel between her and another Trial Champion.’

Only a Trial Champion could challenge another. She met Lily while training against Trial Champions . Ambrose prided herself in usually seeing what others couldn’t. Had she been so desperate for a friend she missed what was right in front of her?

Shame sank into Ambrose’s core and settled into her stomach. She’d been an emotional fool.

Lily swung a leg around, knocking a fighter to her knees as Lily pulled her sword from gods-knew-where and sliced it across the woman’s throat. “Yes. I’m sorry. I promise, I’ll tell you everything.”

“Now isn’t the greatest time,” Ambrose gritted out. A fighter donned in way too much armor came running at her as she twirled around him and sank her dagger into the gap where his helmet met the shoulder of his armor. Blood squirted out and coated her hand.

“I know.” Lily’s face was twisted in pain, shame, fear. Ambrose wasn’t sure anymore. “I’ve got your back. When we get out of this, I’ll tell you everything.”

“ If we get out of this,” Ambrose countered, pressing her back against Lily’s as they faced the arena.

Lily shook her head, brows set into hard lines. “ When .”

Body parts showered them with crimson as the Behemoth threw pieces of dead warriors into the air, its snouts curled into mirrored snarls.

Ambrose glanced at her friend—or who she thought was her friend. “When. You better not die. I want my answers.”

The Behemoth fell down onto its hands on all fours, hot breath rising from its multiple nostrils as one head snapped to the side, the body of a screaming warrior clasped between its jaws. Blood and drool pooled at its feet, soaking the dirt.

Trial Champions rushed forward to fill the spots of fallen warriors as the monster swung its massive arms at the small bodies like they were nothing but dolls.

The rest of them were locked into battle with each other, Rowland ripping his way through body after body, leaving a trail of fallen warriors in his wake without having broken a sweat.

“Can we even take that thing?” Ambrose yelled over the screams that filled the cavern.

“We don’t have to,” Lily roared. “We just need to stay alive long enough to get into those tunnels.”

“Tunnels?” Ambrose scanned the space.

“You don’t see them?” Lily called as she cut down an oncoming mage wielding Ice Magick in the shape of a scythe.

Ambrose looked along the walls but all she saw was solid dragonstone. “No.”

“Look again.”

She peered past the battles, past the Behemoth, and just behind its massive body. Finally, she could see what it was protecting. Three dark entryways opened up behind it that some were managing to slip inside—warriors aimlessly choosing one before vanishing from sight.

“I see them!” Ambrose called. “How are we supposed to get to them?”

“We’re going to have to fight.” Lily squared her shoulders and pulled her second sword from a small pouch at her side that she’d been wearing the night of the festival.

How was that possible? It was Magick Ambrose didn’t know. One that shouldn’t have been possible. Illusion?

A mage Ambrose barely recognized stepped towards the Behemoth as fighters surrounded him.

He hadn’t been in training much but she knew he was a shadow mage from Nethyr.

The mage was around her age, but his eyes held many more years than his face.

Hair and robes as dark as the shadows he called, he had a pale lean body that he clearly had never physically trained a day in his life.

He pulled his bony hands up and in an instant all light in the arena extinguished and plunged them all into a darkness that no light could penetrate.

Ambrose tried to light a firelight but though she could feel her magick working—and knew there was a warm glow in her hand—no light cut through the shadows.

Absolute Darkness.

Though light couldn’t cut the shadows, sound had no issue as screams intensified and Ambrose felt the familiar coils of the darkness try to wrap themselves around her wrists, attempting to pull her sword from her fingers.

They wound their way around her face and throat, choking her as she fought to pull air into her lungs.

Lily coughed from her side and Ambrose didn’t need to be able to see to know they were wrapped around her throat as well .

The Behemoth roared, but even its thunderous growls muffled against the shadows as they wound around its snouts, snuffing out its rage.

How could a mage his age be so powerful?

There were dozens of Trial Champions and the Behemoth itself… To wield such an incredible power would be on par with a Grand Mage .

Ambrose clawed at the shadows that gripped her throat, had it not already been dark she was sure her vision would be going black. Her lungs pulled and burned but no air came.

No air.

Lily gasped desperately as the Behemoth’s breaths gagged in its throats.

No air.

Muffled groans came from the fighters around them, though she couldn’t see them as they collapsed, metal armor singing as they each hit the ground.

No air.

The shadow mage was the only voice that came clear as he laughed in the darkness.

No air.

Ambrose fell to her knees, nails clawing at her throat but the shadows wouldn’t listen to her calls to release her.

No air.

“Come.” Ambrose commanded. If the shadows wouldn’t listen, there was only one chance to save Lily. To save herself. “ Come .”

Her skin tingled and her charge filled the air, growing with the glow under her skin as her hair whipped around her face and a blinding light erupted from her chest and filled the arena, blasting against the walls.

Some warriors screamed as the light burned their eyes and they held their bleeding faces.

The shadow mage swung around, face set with fury as he encased himself in shadows and her light penetrated through everything.

Rowland roared and lunged for the Behemoth while it was disoriented, grabbing onto the horns of the middle head as he pulled, the muscles in his arms straining but he didn’t let go.

The Behemoth snarled and roared but couldn’t pull itself from the fighter’s grasp as Rowland dug his heels into the ground.

Hot saliva flung through the air and the Behemoth planted its hands into the dirt and tried to rip its horns from Rowland’s hands as the skin around its neck began to tear.

The other two heads fought to snap their jaws around him, but Rowland batted them away as though they were puppies nipping at his heel. His arms tensed as he pulled and skin and flesh tore around the beasts’ middle neck.

As though pulled from a trance, the other fighters sprang into action, sinking their weapons into its flesh anywhere they could manage.

The creature raged and rushed forward to crush Rowland against the stone wall but the giant of a man planted his feet and only slid back a few feet as he twisted his arms in a circle and pulled the Behemoth’s middle head from its shoulders with a horrible squelch and blood spilled onto the ground—so dark it was almost black.

Rowland held the head above his own, drenching himself in the monster’s hot blood as nobles gasped from above. This had to be one of the few times they’d seen one of their precious creations harmed.

The body stayed upright as the other two heads lifted to the sky and let out a roar that could only be conjured from the darkest of nightmares. Its remaining glowing red eyes trained on the fighter that just decapitated it.

“Now!” Lily yelled from beside her as she grabbed Ambrose’s arm and rushed for the now free space between them and the hallways.

Shadows curled around Ambrose’s ankle, knocking her to the ground as the shadow mage closed the distance between them, slender fingers outstretched, his gray eyes shining with murder.

Lily curled her body around and brought both of her swords up to eye level. “Go.”

“I can’t leave you.” They were so close, just a few more feet.

“ Go. ” Lily didn’t look back as her swords clashed against the shadow mage’s magick.

Ambrose flung herself at them, her sword scraping the ground as she pulled herself to her feet and was met with Lily’s foot as she kicked her square in the chest .

“I said, go!”

Ambrose struggled to pull breath into her lungs as she stared helplessly at Lily, who masterfully wound her body around the shadow mage, striking ferociously anywhere she saw an opening.

The speed in which they both moved was a blur of dark blue and black clashing together.

Even without a weapon, it was clear the mage and Lily were evenly matched in strength.

“Now!” Lily yelled.

Tears stung the back of Ambrose’s eyes but she turned her body and ran down the first hallway that she could. Angry sobs caught in the back of her throat as the arena—and Lily—disappeared.