Page 38 of Taking Jenny (Planet Orhon #4)

Jenny

“ T hey expect me to run Illiapol in a ballgown and high heels?” I asked, blinking at the servant woman like maybe she’d admit it was a joke.

But she didn’t. She just curtsied and walked out, leaving me alone with a dainty cup of tea and a rising tide of fury.

I had been taken to a garden room that exited to the path of the hunting ground, and every breath there felt like someone standing on my chest. The room was white and green and had all sorts of exotic plants which, under any other circumstances, I would have admired. But I had run out of fucks to give.

I tipped my head back against the sofa and groaned.

There was nothing I could do. The high heels alone were enough to get me killed—high heels were not hiking boots.

And the gown? Not built for survival. There was so much tulle and fabric that it would be hard to run, or even hide.

I was nothing more than glittering prey.

I’d do better to strip the dress off and cover myself in mud. Maybe rip the dress to shreds and wrap my feet to protect my soles once I kicked off my heels .

I desperately tried to block out the panicked stutter in my chest. I tried to think of what my new friends would do in this situation, which made me think of Tiger and Mal and my eyes filled with tears. I could not afford to lose my composure—Longshot said that was the fastest way to die.

Mal will be fine. He’s in prison but he’ll get out. Justice likes him. Tiger is with the others. They’ll keep him safe. Clear your mind, clear your mind—

The door opened again, and a small man walked in.

Short for a Ladrian, though not as short as me.

Thin, almost painfully so. His black hair had begun to recede years ago, and his violet eyes were dull.

He wore the same uniform as the other servants—beige, covered neck to wrist to ankle.

But he had a faint smile that was comforting.

"Good morning, Avatar,” he said, inclining his head. “I am Frost Resaber. I will be your handler for Illiapol.”

“A handler?” I asked, both surprised and hopeful. “Does that mean you’ll be with me on the hunting ground?”

He gave me a sad smile and shook his head.

“I am afraid not. I will be taking you to the starting line and walking you through some of the finer details of the event. There is a box beneath the sofa. If you would prefer, you can dress in that. I will step out for your modesty and return in ten minutes.”

He left promptly and I immediately pulled the box out, checking the contents.

Profound relief surged through me as I withdrew cargo pants, a black tank, a brown jacket, and matching boots.

All in my size. I quickly stripped down and put on the more practical clothing, not wanting to give them any reason to change their minds about me running the trial in my gown and heels.

I kept Discord’s necklace on, in case I could use it somehow. Thankfully, her work on my braided bun stood up to the quick change, keeping my hair out of my way. All those pins she’d used, I assumed.

When Frost returned, his expression remained soft, almost apologetic. “Ready?”

I exhaled a deep breath and straightened my shoulders. “As I’ll ever be,” I said, and meant it.

He nodded, unlocked the exit, and we left the room for a small onworlder that looked like a golf cart. It was dark outside, and the cool night breeze had become colder. I guessed it was two or three in the morning—no light from the horizon yet.

As he drove past trees and rocks, he said, “Illiapol is a time-honored tradition among the Ladrian. Has anyone told you about it?”

“Too much, actually,” I sniped.

My harsh response seemed to startle him. “Are you not honored by your elevation to avatar?”

“Frost, I’m sure this will sound rude to you, but I did not volunteer as tribute for this.

My participation is purely against my will, so telling me about what an honor this is will only serve to piss me off further, and you seem like an otherwise decent man.

I don’t want the last thing I am known for in this life to be a raving bitch screaming at a nice man, so can we drop it? ”

He stopped the vehicle to stare at me in disbelief. “I thought you had volunteered. That’s what they’ve told everyone.”

“No. Not at all,” I said, the knowledge that the palace was force feeding their population a blatant falsehood only increasing my ire. “Whoever said that is lying to you.”

His shock remained. “You were forced into this, then?”

“Yes.”

He was quiet for the rest of the drive, until we pulled up to a small half-fenced clearing. It was well-lit, so my eyes needed a moment to focus on all the shining metal objects on the fence. Dozens of weapons gleamed beneath the lights, everything Discord had tested me on. All of which I’d failed.

Frost turned to me and said, “Whatever weapons you take with you, your hunters will be afforded the same. They cannot take anything you do not take. Please make your selections.”

“And I can take anything that’s out here, right?”

He nodded. “Yes.”

I climbed out of the vehicle and walked along the fence, trying not to imagine what each one of these weapons would feel like as they cut into me. Swords, axes, some kind of swingy metal ball thing with spikes, other dangerous items like metal bats wrapped in what looked like barbed wire.

The leather bag of throwing knives was enticing. Some kind of projectile seemed like a good idea, if I had any clue how to use them effectively. The hunters probably knew how to use them, but the bag…

I dumped the knives out and held the leather bag up to the bright light.

Nothing came through. Might be able to hold water.

The long strap was for a Ladrian, so I put it on like a crossbody bag.

Down the line, I found the one thing I felt comfortable with—a staff.

It was the length of a broomstick, wooden, light enough to carry, but hard enough to hurt with proper force.

I rejoined Frost by the open part of the fence. There was a purple ribbon on the ground and beyond it, the path led up the mountain. I swallowed hard, trying to tamp down my anxiety and fears of the unknown, which wasn’t an easy feat.

“I guess I’m ready,” I said, attempting to sound braver than I felt.

“A bag and a staff?” His tone was incredulous.

I pursed my lips. “I’m not going to make it easy for them.” If I’d chosen any of those other lethal weapons, they would have had the same advantage.

“Why the staff?” he asked curiously.

I shrugged, a bitter smile on my lips. “I’ve been sweeping floors at my job on Earth for the past four years and this is like a broomstick, which I’m familiar with.

I’m pretty sure none of the assholes hunting me can say the same thing.

Can’t imagine them cleaning anything. Hell, I doubt they wipe their own asses. ”

He laughed abruptly. “I did not expect a sense of humor from the avatar.”

“That’s all I’ve got left, Frost,” I said, staring at the rough terrain ahead of me. “I can either laugh or cry. Crying will get me killed, but if I’m laughing when I go down? At least I’ll die with a shred of dignity.”

The amusement I’d just seen in his eyes shifted, and he grew serious.

“This is a fight to the death, avatar. The seven hunters will kill you, or you will kill them. There are animals on the hunting ground who could do their job for them, so watch for them, too. Three sirens will ring out. You may not hear all of them. The first siren will sound at the beginning of the trial, another when the hunters join in, and finally, the third will ring out when it is finished. You are afforded a twelve-hour head start, after which point, they will be hunting you. The hunting ground is sixty-five kilometers long, up the mountain path. There will be supply drops, as well as traps, along the way. If you can make it to the finish line at the end of the hunting ground before the hunters can catch you, then you win.”

“And if I kill them all first?”

“You’ll still need to cross the finish line for the trial to end.”

I nodded and glanced up the mountain. I had been on a few hikes in South Carolina, but none where someone was trying to kill me, and none this steep and fraught with danger and unknown perils.

I inhaled a deep breath to clear my mind. “My name is Jenny Hollinger, by the way. Not Avatar . I just wanted you to know that. The avatars are people, Frost.”

“I know that better than most,” he said softly.

I met his gaze. “Has anyone but the princess won Illiapol?”

“A few. But they had gifts. Silence Bateen is rumored to have stolen the voices of her hunters, so they could not coordinate their attack on her. That was how she won. Do you have any gifts like that?”

“No gifts. I’m pretty much a regular human.” Sort of, but I didn’t count seeing ghosts as a “gift” and certainly not one I could use out on this course.

“Then I have one for you.”

He dug into his pocket and produced a silver bracelet.

A charm hung from it—a locket in the shape of small box.

“I know you did not volunteer for this, Jenny Hollinger, but I am grateful to you for doing it. The Ruler had his eye on my daughter for the avatar. I was going to give this to her. Inside the small box on this bracelet is a pill with enough poison to kill ten Ladrian men in seconds.” He swallowed hard.

“It would have killed her in a heartbeat. Quick and painless.”

He handed the bracelet to me and I took it, confused. “What—”

“Do not open that locket until you are ready to die,” he said, and I realized that he was giving me the chance to escape torture, should the worst case scenario arise. “The pill dissolves instantly in liquid, so you must be careful.”

I glanced around warily. “I think Justice has every place around here wired. I’m sure he’s listening to us right now. Please, I don’t want you to get in trouble, Frost. Take it back.”

But he curled his long fingers around my hand, closing it around the bracelet in my palm. He smiled woefully. “Thanks to you, my daughter is going to live. That’s all I care about.” He checked his gauntlet driver and a pained look entered his eyes. “It is time.”

My heartbeat jackhammered in my chest and I walked to the purple ribbon on the ground, indicating the starting line. I glanced back at the man who’d brought me here. “Thank you for your kindness, Frost.”

He bowed his head in gratitude. “Thank you for your life, Jenny Hollinger.”

The words struck deeper than I expected, and it was all I could do not to throw up the bile in my stomach. But then a siren wailed, long and shrill, and knowing I had no choice I started my run up the mountain path, adrenaline and fortitude pushing me forward.

I kept my steps as light as possible, my ears peeled for any sound, my eyes wary of every shadow I passed. An ankle twist could end this Illiapol much faster than I intended to. The incline punished me immediately. My thighs started to burn, but I didn’t slow my stride.

Longshot and Discord and Surge had told me a lot of what to expect and what I’d encounter, and those lessons all flew around in my memory at the same time. Learn the slope of the land. Collect small rocks for weapons. Fill anything with water.

That was the first bit of advice I could heed, at least, since I heard moving water nearby.

Following the sound, I found a rushing river.

After I drank my fill to quench my thirst, I washed out my leather bag, then filled it with water, tying the leather thong securely.

It held, watertight. One tiny win for me.

I’d need water to survive, and now no matter where the terrain took me, I’d have it with me.

Ahead on the river bank were heavy clutches of trees, so I couldn’t make headway by staying next to it.

Back to the path, I started my moonslit run once more.

I didn’t hear the animals—couldn’t worry about them.

I didn’t see them, either. They could kill me just as dead as the hunters, but I refused to let that enter my mind. One problem at a time.

When the slope grew even more brutal, I had to slow down to catch my breath.

My lungs burned, my calves screamed, and my body begged for rest but I pushed on.

A few times, I had to brace myself against the staff, making me even more grateful that I had gone with my instinct instead of the deadlier weapons.

Not sure I’ll feel that way in a few hours though .

A flicker of light ahead broke the monotony. I slowed to inspect what it was. A small tent glowed at the side of the path, lit from within by an electric lantern, beckoning to me. I saw a tray of steaming food, some folded blankets, a couple of pillows…everything soft and warm and comforting.

My stomach twisted with hunger and exhaustion already seemed to consume me, considering I’d had no sleep. My tired body wanted nothing more than to crawl inside, eat the meal, and sleep.

I scowled at the tent, remembering Surge’s warnings. “It’s a trap,” I muttered out loud.

Despite my disappointment, I turned and ran right past it.