Page 44 of The Song of Sunrise (The Prentice Teller #1)

Selene is focused and sharp. I always assumed she was more of a bookworm, but here, her years of training and strong lineage of Watchers is coming out in her commanding tone. “Gryph, get on with Akemi and pass me your plank.”

We only have three planks to work with, so Gryphon listens.

His body arcs over mine like a turtle shell, then he hands the plank to Selene.

She sets it down in front of her and slowly crawls ahead.

I follow, then Gryphon joins me on my old plank, covering me once again.

We follow this process again and again, making our way to the halfway point.

Screams erupt to my right, slicing through the wind. I whip my head toward the River team. Ramona and Leo are scrambling, wild-eyed, their focus locked on Lacerta dangling from the rope by one hand.

Her strawberry-blonde hair whips around her face in the screaming wind. Snow lashes her freckled cheeks, already flushed and raw. Her eyes, wide and wild with fear, lock onto her brother’s.

“LACERTA!” Leo’s voice cracks as he shouts her name, desperation scraping his throat raw.

Ramona inches forward behind him, trying to shift her plank closer. Every movement sends a ripple through the rope, and Lacerta jerks with each one, her body swinging helplessly over the abyss.

“HOLD ON! WE’RE COMING!” Leo pleads. His voice is no longer a command—it’s a cry, a promise he’s terrified he can’t keep.

Lacerta’s fingers slip, then catch. Her knuckles are white, trembling. She glances toward Gryphon just for a second, and then back at Leo. Something in her face changes. The terror falls away. What’s left is quiet. Acceptance.

“No,” Leo breathes, shaking his head. “No, no, no. Don’t you dare—”

Her hand slips.

She falls.

Her scream is brief, swallowed by the wind.

A sickening crack echoes from below, dull and final.

Then, silence.

Leo’s entire body lurches forward, but Ramona grabs him, keeping him from diving after her. He fights her, screaming his twin’s name again, and again, until it doesn’t sound like a name anymore.

I don’t need to look. I already know.

Lacerta lies shattered on the rocks far below, her life ending in silence, the kind that fills your lungs and never lets go.

A sob tears from my throat. My hands tremble, and the frigid air freezing my fingers falls away, no longer mattering. No, no, no, no, no!

I shudder and turn away, trying and failing to compartmentalize what I just saw.

“My La–Lacerta!” Gryphon weeps. His muscles shake, threatening to throw us off balance.

He and Lacerta were close. They would eat together almost every lunch, always picking on one another, teasing, exchanging longing looks…

A relationship that ends before it even starts is the most tragic kind because it’s a loss to more than just those involved, but the people around them too.

“ I’m so sorry ,” I whisper to Gryphon, tears freezing on my cheeks.

He makes choking sounds, like he is suppressing a scream.

I want to stop everything. Break off a piece of plank and stab it at the sponsors who would allow such a tragedy to occur.

But the other teams are moving already. I hate myself for saying what I have to say.

“We are almost on the other side. We have to keep going.”

He stills, and I can feel his emotions hardening to ice around me, but his Moon’cher powers swell, like a torrent of water behind a dam, waiting to explode.

“No magic! We will get disqualified,” Selene says, sniffing.

We continue forward, our silence accompanied by the tritones of wind gusting through the chasm.

We make it across only to find ourselves tied for third place with Leaf and his other two Forest team members, Kauri and Artemis.

Ramona and Leo from the River team are still on the ropes, the former hugging the latter and whispering something to him I cannot hear from this distance.

Keep moving forward , I command myself and run to catch up with Gryphon and Selene, already dashing to the next obstacle at full speed.

Castor’s team is first to reach the edge of a murky pool. Within seconds, Castor dives headfirst in perfect form into the water to retrieve the key. Sabra dives for the Jord team next.

The Forest team approaches the pool at the same time we do.

Leaf and I make eye contact. Both of our teams are vying for the same spot. Selene dives headfirst into the water, Artemis following just behind her in a dash of pale skin and dark hair.

Sabra comes up first before Castor, gasping for air, cursing and shaking her head.

No key. There is still time!

She plunges again just as Castor shoots out of the water in a way that might even make the Kingfishers of the River Tribe jealous.

He has always been regarded as one of the best swimmers in the Watch, but to see him in action is a whole other level.

He pierces through the water with immense force, slicing through it with ease.

“Come on, Selene!” Gryphon urges, a lethal energy leaking from every pore. Lacerta’s death is spurring a whole different, much sharper, side of him. I lean over, trying to get a glimpse of Selene’s progress only to see dark, contorted shapes in the murky depths.

Another champion flies out of the water.

Selene!

Gryphon tilts his head back and roars in celebration. If Castor is the best Moon’cher swimmer, Selene has to be the second. Her hickory eyes glow with excitement as she hoists herself out of the water and hands me a small ring of keys.

I don’t wait to see if Sabra or Artemis appear from the water next as I turn and run toward the final part of this Summit task.

Five large crates sit atop a raised platform, each painted in the color of their team.

I run as fast as I can toward the black Terraguard crate, keys jingling as I skip steps, getting there as quickly as I can manage without falling.

I throw myself onto my knees and begin to force a key into the lock. It doesn’t budge.

Shit! There are at least seven locks and ten different keys.

Vega is cursing and kneeling in front of her crate next to me. Castor and Pictor yell instructions from behind her, but instead of helping, it’s causing her to panic even more.

Good.

I take a breath and clear my mind, like I would before a Telling, and in a moment, I am calm. I look down at the locks. Then the keys. Breathe. Then back at the locks.

There are small similarities! Some have matching symbols, others are made of the same metal materials, have the same rust patterns, or same type of scuffs.

Details so small, yet so obvious if you are looking for them.

Within a minute, all seven locks are open.

Over the pulsing of blood in my ears, the crowd roars and Hogsmith continues to commentate.

Inside, there is a scroll and five small, corked bottles. I grab the scroll and read:

In these bottles, the poison is true,

But one, save the last, will turn your face blue,

The one you lust will turn you to dust,

But that does not count the one that’s see-through.

One is deadly, three will sting,

Only one will make your victory sing,

Your choice is this, for only one you must drink,

Select carefully and rise, or poorly and sink.

I read the words over and over, thankful for my years practicing discerning the meaning behind each stanza in a Telling.

The first bottle is filled with a clear liquid that smells like wet socks.

I crinkle my nose in disgust and lift the second blue liquid to my nose, careful not to spill.

No scent. I put that one down. The third bottle is yellow and smells as harmless as a glass of lemon citrus water.

I continue to assess the bottles. I remove the stopper to the fourth vial of black liquid and I’m hit instantly with a comforting smell of something sweet, like summer flowers and the salty mist of the Jaragon Sea and…

smoke? I set that one down and look at the fifth and final bottle.

It’s light green and smells like Rosie’s cucumber salad she used to always make on the hot summer days.

I set the vial back down, ignoring the pang of guilt for leaving her behind, and am renewed with a sense of urgency to win this damn trial.

“Will turn your face blue…” I mutter to myself and squint at the second vial of blue liquid that didn’t have a scent. It would be a literal take on the riddle, but I cancel that one out nonetheless.

“The one you lust will turn you to dust… that doesn’t sound very nice now does it.

” I trail my fingers along the top of the bottles and pause once I get the fourth one, the black liquid that smells divine.

As much as I hate it, that scent cannot be mistaken for anyone else.

Atlys. “Damn you and your delicious scent,” I mutter and set the fourth vial back down.

A feeling of animalistic desire pulses through my body. It takes me only a moment to realize that the emotion is coming from the Underworld Lord who is no doubt basking in his glory that the “one I lust” smells exactly like him.

Pervert . I think toward his general direction. Not knowing if he can hear my thoughts back.

I look at the first bottle again and back to the scroll, confirming my suspicions that see-through liquid is probably one I should avoid. I put that bottle down. That leaves the third bottle, which is yellow and smells like citrus, and the last cucumber-smelling bottle.

I reread the riddle.

“In these bottles, the poison is true, but one, save the last, will turn your face blue.” I laugh at the realization. But one “save the last” will turn your face blue.

Save the last . I pick up the light green vial.

“Semantics matter, Akemi,” Marrow would always say in our lessons.

“Here’s to you, Marrow, for your lessons that have saved my life more times than I can count.” I pour the liquid into my mouth in one large gulp and I wait, anticipating pain, but nothing comes.

The crowd erupts with cheers as Gryphon and Selene surround me in a rib-crushing hug.

“We won!” Selene cheers as Gryphon picks us both up and spins.

Vega, being the closest champion to us, sees the vial in my hand and reaches for her own green vial. Cheater!

Cassiopeia from the Jord team is third to complete the riddle but buckles over in pain, clutching her stomach.

A nearby Moon’cher medical team rushes in while Sabra and Ragnar stand by, looking bored and emotionless, not caring that their teammate may or may not die.

They are both soaking wet from Ragnar diving in after Sabra’s failed attempt to get the key.

Their fury apparently overcomes their capacity to empathize.

Leaf and Kauri yell for help as they rush over to Artemis, who is also laying on the ground, heaving up the contents of his stomach. Leo is still trying to solve the riddle when an alarm wails in a formidable open fifth.

“What is that alarm for?” I ask Gryphon. As a second-stone, he may have experienced this before. But he only shrugs in return, looking as alarmed as I feel.

“GEAR UP. NEARBY ATTACK. ROGUE UNDERLINGS. REINFORCEMENTS NEEDED.” Commander Hogsmith jumps into action. “ALL SECOND AND THIRD-STONE CADETS RIDE TO THE CALL.” The Commander then turns to the leaders. “ROYAL DELEGATES, WILL YOU CHOOSE TO JOIN US?"

Lady Neda stands and rolls her shoulders back. “We will take the rivers.”

“And us the sky,” Lord Clayoq adds, standing alongside the rest of the Elven brethren.

I look at Atlys, waiting for him to stand, but he stays seated next to the Jord Lord.

Unbelievable .

I didn’t realize that I had expected him to stand with us, fight with us, until the cold wash of disappointment floods my system, overriding all previous emotions of excitement and happiness for winning.

Weren’t we allies? Which Underworld clan is attacking and why are the two leaders not doing anything ?

I glare at him, yet he remains still, knuckles white as he clenches his chair.

“FIRST-STONES BACK TO THE KEEP!” Commander Hogsmith instructs.

Chaos ensues around me as cadets, Watchers, and Elves ready for a battle. Orders are bellowed, weapons distributed, and rocs land hard on the ground next to their Elven companions. The WatchGuards begin to line up in columns and stablehands ready the horses for all second and third-stone cadets.

Has anyone called for reinforcements from training cadets like this before? All I know is that I’m not going back into the castle and standing by while other innocent lives are taken once again by Underlings.

The entire field is so engulfed with noise and blurs of readying soldiers that no one sees when the white roc I battled in the first task lands next to me with a thump.

Heru bends her large neck downward in a sign of respect.

I bow in return and mount her feathered back, grabbing the leather hand holds just in time before she launches into the sky.