Page 14

I hear… birds, I think. Trying to peel my eyes open feels like a chore. It feels like there is lead in my lids. I manage to open them a tiny bit, but the light feels bright and painful, piercing into the slits that I can barely manage.

My head feels fuzzy and heavy as I lay here—wherever here is. All I can do is listen to the noise fluttering around me. I hear birds chirping, bugs buzzing, the wind rustling through trees, and skittering leaf foliage on the ground.

All the noise comes together in a melodic sound that mother nature has blessed us with. Scents of earth and the freshness of the wind flitter around me. I must be outside. Then I come to the realization that I am. I’m in the first trial. Shit. This must be the Shadowed Forest. I need to get up, navigate through the forest, and get to the top of Serpent’s Reach without dying.

Managing to pry my eyes fully open proves to be a bit of a challenge, but I do it. I am correct. There are trees all around me. It’s early fall, and the leaves have turned, shedding shades of orange, brown, yellow, and red. I manage to sit up. My limbs feel heavy, and so does my head. Water. Water will quench my thirst and help clear the feeling of sand in my mouth.

The tree beside me is thick and sturdy. I grab hold of it and muster my strength to push myself upright, my leaden legs protesting the effort. Fumbling at the waistband of my pants, I locate my palm blade with a sigh of relief, thanking the gods and goddesses. But I feel something in my pocket—a waterskin. How did that get there?

Food may be scarce the entire time I’m out here, so I need to make sure I, at least, have enough water. My right arm feels weighed down, heavy. Looking down, I notice it. That’s right, I have a tracker on.

Lukene’s actions echo in my mind: him rubbing my wrist where my prison number is printed, then latching this heavy bracelet on me. He is so confusing, a walking contradiction. He is sweet in his own way, yet cold. He’s handsome and mysterious, but I can’t think about that now, survival is my priority, not the dark prince.

Shaking my head, I try to clear whatever they used to drug us. I look around, searching for any sign of where I am. I know I’m in the Shadowed Forest, but where exactly? I choose a direction and start walking, ready for anything. The other contestants could attack at any moment, but they’re the least of my worries. My father used to tell me stories of the beasts and monsters that roam this forest.

After what feels like hours, I still don’t know exactly where I am. I hope I find Elm and Larah and that they’re alright. Suddenly, I think I hear running water off in the distance. There’s a river between the lavender fields and the Shadowed Forest my father used to take me to. I wonder if it’s that or if there might be a creek nearby. Deciding to follow the faint sound, I head in that direction.

After a brief walk, it comes into view: a twisting stream nestled in the distance. Scanning my surroundings with cautious glances, I realize I’m alone. Perfect.

Reaching the stream’s edge, I bend down, selecting leaves from the lush foliage and tucking them into my pocket for future use. Cupping my hands, I scoop up handfuls of the brisk water, relishing its icy coolness as it soothes my parched throat. Then I fill my waterskin.

I’m drying my hands on my tunic when a sense of unease grips me, halting my movements. I am not alone. I can feel eyes upon me. Looking around in all directions, I see no one. The hairs on my arms stand and there is a prickle at the nape of my neck the longer I stand there.

Leaving the stream, I slowly creep back to hide beneath the shadows of the trees. My heart quickens its pace. Someone must be lurking in the shadows watching me. I am certain of it. I feel their presence amongst the dense trees. The forest is now quiet. It’s eerily silent as if it’s also holding its breath— waiting with anticipation for what’s to come.

The shadows seem to be looming behind every tree, almost as if they are the ones watching me. I silently remove my palm blade while I continue to assess my surroundings. A twig snaps behind me, and I feel a presence on my tail. In one swift motion, I turn around and slam my stalker into the tree with my blade at their throat.

Laughter erupts from Larah. Rolling my eyes, I lower the palm blade and step back.

“You didn’t have to sneak up on me.” I snap.

“But it was so much fun,” she laughs again.

“Do you know which direction to go?” I ask her.

“There is a trail a bit that way. I say we follow it.” I nod my head at her, and we walk to the trail in silence, careful not to alert other contestants to our presence.

“I hope Elm is okay. Do you think we’ll find him? Do you think he is alright?” I ask.

“We both know Elm can handle himself. I am sure we will come across him sooner or later,” she replies.

After hours of following the trail, the sun starts to set. The air turns cool, and the wind is roaring through the trees, chilling us. Larah sees a rabbit, pulls her palm blade, and kills it. We stop to make a fire. My magic comes in handy for starting the fire, though we keep it small so the flame’s light doesn’t give us away.

We cook the rabbit and begin to eat it. I can’t shake the feeling that I am still being watched. I finish my food, looking around. I do not see the source of my discomfort.

“Do you feel that?” I ask Larah.

“Feel what?” Her brows and nose scrunch. “I still feel loopy from the drugs, if that is what you mean.”

I don’t feel off anymore. Maybe I’m being paranoid. “Nothing. Get some sleep. I’ll take first watch.”

* * *

Jolting awake, I realize I fell asleep while on watch. The shadows seem to scurry when I adjust my eyes. The moon is descending, and morning will be upon us shortly. Larah is passed out a few lengths away from me. I still have that ominous feeling of being watched. I stand, intending to walk a perimeter around us, but the forest’s deep darkness reveals little—only slices of moonlight pierce the trees’ patchy canopies. The fire has gone out, dwindling to embers while I slept.

The wind picks up, blowing my hair everywhere and filling my nose with an earthy scent. I hear a twig snap a few lengths away in the woods. I immediately turn toward the noise. I can’t see anything. Eyes straining in the gloom, I slowly back toward Larah. Using my foot, I gently kick her to wake her.

“Larah,” I say in a whisper, my voice low and gruff. She isn’t responding. I kick her a little harder. “Larah!” I say a little louder. She stirs, then sits up, and looks at me. “We aren’t alone. Get up.”

Larah jumps to her feet, immediately on guard, her palm blade in hand. “What do you see?” I take note of her, still swaying slightly.

“I hear them. I can feel that we are being watch—” My words fall short.

Suddenly, rustling leaves and snapping twigs grow louder, closing in on us. My breath hitches in my throat in anticipation of what or whom is heading our direction. Three male prisoners emerge from the shadows, illuminated by the moon’s dying light.

“Well, well, well. Let’s see how tough you guys are without your savior, Elm, here to protect you,” one of the men says, and the other two cackle evilly.

I immediately recognize one of the males as Jaime—the small one who had never used his magic before we came here—and two others: one a magic wielder, the other not. I flip my palm blade in my hand, cleave it back, and let it loose into the night. It hit its mark. The moonlight illuminates the area enough for me to see the blade go straight into the one magic wielder’s eye. He drops like a stone without making any more movements besides disturbing twitches.

“That wasn’t very smart, 7296,” Jaime says with a malicious smile, his white teeth bright in the dim lit forest. He starts running at me, hand out, palm up, and water hovering above. My heart is hammering in my chest. I don’t even think to use my powers when he gets close enough to attack.

Before he gets to me, I hear Larah and the other man fighting. Their grunts fill the air. Once Jaime reaches me, he immediately throws the water into my face, holding it there. My head is completely submerged in a pocket of fluid. I become disoriented.

I can’t breathe.

I don’t want to drown.

My lungs burn.

My heart is murderously pounding.

I can’t see in the darkness of the night sky, with only the moonlight filtering through the canopy and the water encircling my head.

My vision swims as I lash out, striking fiercely. A brutal punch lands on my right ribs and then my jaw, snapping my head free of the suffocating water bubble. I seize the moment, sucking in a quick breath, the fire in my lungs easing. Clarity returns, and I realize I need to back away. Jaime isn’t strong, and his reach is short. I flip down, rolling to escape, but I end up colliding with the dead man I already killed. Odd—I thought he was farther away. I reach down, pulling the palm blade from his eye socket. It makes a sickening suction noise, then pops as I dislodge the blade. When it comes free, his eyeball is still on the blade.

My stomach lurches. I think I am going to be sick. I don’t have time to think about the crash of waves in my stomach. Instead, I pluck the eye off, throwing it to the ground. It makes a tiny thud, then a rustling noise as it rolls into the leaves. Gross .

Jaime is playing with me. He thinks he can take me. I smile to myself, despite the pain in my right side and jaw. Circling him slowly, I hear Larah grunting… a lot. I need to check on her. She may be hurt. I continue to circle Jaime but head closer and closer toward Larah. I see I am close to the fire pit we made. I drop down quickly, calling upon my magic, lighting the pit to give me a better clue of what’s going on, and I wish I hadn’t.

The other massive prisoner is on top of Larah, holding her palm blade, and plunging it toward her trunk. Puncture wounds mar her shoulders and chest, though nothing appears immediately fatal. She has her hands braced against his, trying to stop the lethal blow, but she is struggling.

Ignoring Jaime, I rush at them, tackling the massive man off Larah. His blade slashes my upper arm, a sharp sting radiating through me. Warm blood trickles down, the metallic scent mingling with the forest air. But he loses momentum as I drive my palm blade between his fifth and sixth ribs, a lethal puncture. His blood gushes over my hand, warming my wet, cold body. I yank the blade out, blood splattering everywhere.

Quickly, I rise to my feet. Larah is up, fighting Jaime, but she’s barely holding on. Blood streams from her wounds. Jaime punches her, and she falls back. He turns to me, a victorious grin spreading across his face. He thinks he is the victor but has no idea I’m about to make him a victim to my ravenous rage.

I run. My feet swift, heart pounding. Despite being chilled, sweat is dripping off my brow and arm. Wait, that’s blood on my arm. I completely forgot, in the chaos, that my arm has been slashed. I attempt to tackle Jaime, but his little ass ends up throwing me down and getting on top of me. He uses his weight, trying to thrust the blade into a fatal blow. He is going to kill me, but I use all my strength to hold his hands in place as they slowly, but surely, inch dangerously closer to my chest.

Fiery rage ignites within me. I need to act now. Larah won’t be much help—she’s lost too much blood, and the lingering drugs have weakened her. The fire crackles in my peripheral vision. Fire.

I call upon my magic, channeling it to my hands. Flames burst forth. They are burning hot, bright, and fierce where I hold his hands back from impaling me with the knife. He releases a blood curling scream that rattles the forest as red angry blisters appear, and the smell of burning flesh fills our noses. It’s grotesque. It’s perfect.

With that, I fling him off, jump on top of him, and impale his heart with my blade. I am not satisfied. I bring my blade back down, driving it into his chest over and over and over again. Blood splatters all over my face, clothes, and the ground. The squelching noise of the blade piercing his chest echoes around us. Finally, I stop, panting heavily, my chest heaving. His blood clings to me, warm, thick, and sticky. I stare at the carnage—the massacre I made—fighting the urge to vomit the rabbit I ate.

He got what he deserves. I stagger over to Larah, who is breathing shallowly. Gods and goddesses, I need to stop the bleeding. The smell of blood overpowers every other scent at this point, which will surely bring in other predators of the forest. I rip a strip of cloth off the bottom of my tunic and try to pack the wounds in her shoulders. I pull her closer to the fire. Her eyes open and close, dazed. I need to find herbs to make a healing poultice.

“Hang in there, Larah. I’ll be right back,” I say, as I braid my fingers and kiss them before taking off. Conjuring my magic, I hover a tiny fire ball in my hand, but the sun is starting to rise, setting a dim glow to my surroundings. Immediately, I start picking leaves off various plants and vines that can be used for healing. I hope this is enough to stop the bleeding, help with preventing infection, and pain. Once I am sure I have enough for the healing salve, I sprint back toward Larah.

Stopping a few lengths aways from Larah so I don’t disturb her rest, I find two large, flat stones. I begin to grind and mash the leaves and herbs into one cohesive concoction. Once I am satisfied with the healing poultice, I stand up to head over to her.

Just as I approach Larah, an eerie, chittering noise rings out around us. I have never heard it before but it’s as if the entire forest holds its breath to listen to it. Looking around, I try to find the source of the noise. It’s echoing off everything—bouncing from shadow to shadow. From the dark recesses of the forest, I finally see it, the biggest, most terrifying spider I have ever seen. Emerging from the darkness like a nightmare in walking form, it skitters toward Larah’s sleeping body.

Its body is as big as a wolf, supported by eight massive legs that end in pointed, barbed tips, capable of impaling a person. Two enormous central eyes are flanked by three smaller ones on each side, all glittering with a predatory gleam. Coarse black fibers cover its body, and the most horrifying feature of all are the two giant fangs dangling menacingly from its mouth. My heart pounds as I realize I’m facing one of the deadly, venomous Shadow Forest Arachnars.