Page 43 of The Throne Seeker (Vallorian #1)

R ose woke up to a gentle breeze carrying a hint of mist, making her nose crinkle at the sudden spray. She attempted to open her eyes, but the blinding light beating down forced her to squeeze them shut again while the sound of crashing waves thundered in her ears.

She shifted her weight to her arms, sitting up slowly.

As she did, she became acutely aware of two alarming realities.

First, metal chains coiled around her wrists, scraping against the coarse, rocky surface beneath her.

Second, and more horrifying, was the fact that she was perched precariously on a slim ledge against a steep cliff face.

Instincts took over as she scrambled backward, retreating as far back as the narrow edge would allow. She pressed her back against the hot rock wall behind her, the heat sinking into her dress. The ledge was so narrow that she could barely sit without her legs dangling off.

Her muscles locked up as she closed her eyes, taking a deep breath, attempting to calm herself. This had to be some horrible dream. Some nightmare.

When she dared to peek out of her eyes, she was still on the cliff.

After a prolonged moment of acceptance, she summoned the courage to look beyond the narrow ledge, expecting to see the ground miles down. But it was far worse. She saw a sea of blue below, with only a thin crest-shaped bar of sand, which would soon be gone with the high tide.

She knew exactly where she was.

Crimson Cove.

She’d come here to the beach often with Tristan and his siblings.

It was beautiful in the mornings, but toward midday, they had always quickly cleared out, cautioned of its strong, unforgiving currents.

Dozens of ships had met their end in this cove, wrecked in the early years of Cathan’s founding and many since.

So many, in fact, they claimed the waters had been turned crimson from the saturation of blood that’d poured into its seas from the sailors it’d consumed.

Rose combed through her memory, remembering the hooded figure who had grabbed her.

After that, nothing. She couldn’t recall a face or even a voice.

Her dread escalated as she remembered her mother’s scream.

Had that been real? Or had that just been a way to coax her out into the open?

She reassured herself that her mother wasn’t defenseless—she kept a sword hidden in her room, just as Rose had.

She could fight them off. She was strong.

When she looked down, Rose caught a glimpse of a shiny object hanging around her neck. Her fingers traced the large sun medallion resting on her collarbone.

Finally, clarity found her.

This was the next challenge.

Anger gripped her. Was this the high council’s doing?

Had they really needed to kidnap her? Couldn’t they have given her a warning?

Did the king know about this? She couldn’t believe he did, not after everything he’d done to protect her.

It had to have been the high council’s scheme, no doubt spearheaded by Lord Martin himself, in hopes she’d die in this trial.

She was tempted to succumb to her panic, but if she did, it’d be that much harder to get out of this alive. No matter how much she wanted to shut down at the sight of the large body of water below her, she had to overcome her fear.

So, with a deep breath, she searched for the source of her chains.

To her surprise, she discovered that she was tethered to a large, curved iron arch situated just above her, somehow joined to the cliff’s rocky surface for the challenge.

It was large enough that if she did fall, she’d end up hanging directly in the center of the cove.

There was no way up or down. No way but to climb. And she wasn’t even sure if she could manage it with this cumbersome chain restricting her movement. How in the hell had they even gotten her on a ledge like this in the first place?

Maybe if she climbed high enough, she could build enough momentum to swing back in the opposite direction. But even with her increasing strength, she feared she wouldn’t have the endurance to reach the top. It was a long shot, but she couldn’t think of another option.

Why hadn’t she learned to swim?

Her mind flooded with all the ways this idea could go wrong. She couldn’t guarantee she could find her way back to the small ledge if she failed to reach the top. If that were to happen, she’d be dangling in the middle of the cove like a fish on a hook.

Her anger toward the council was strong enough to consider taking the risk.

Just as she began to consider executing her dreadful plan, the ledge beneath her quaked. A large crack spread through the rock between her feet, threatening to collapse.

Her fear transcended into horror.

She sprang to her feet. Having little time to react, she grasped the first holds she could find. Her hands had just found a solid grip just before the ledge gave way entirely, crumbling and falling into the sea below.

She hung there for a moment, her chest heaving. She cursed under her breath, resting her forehead against the cliffside, taking deep breaths to calm herself.

She peered back up the cliffside—well, it was decided for her now.

Summoning all her courage, she forced herself to climb. She took her time finding each hold, doing her best to keep her hands from shaking. Her outfit wasn’t doing her any favors—she was still wearing the cursed pink dress and flats from the previous day.

The wind howled around her as she inched her way up.

With every effort to find a new foothold, her feet continued to slip.

Her useless flats gave her little to no traction, becoming a hindrance.

She had no choice but to kick them off. Pressing on, she continued to climb barefoot, gradually making her way up.

She was impressed with the small progress she was making, the tiny success instilling a seed of hope.

However, that hope was short-lived. Within minutes, her arms began to waver. She fought against her shaking arms, gritting her teeth, pausing only to rest briefly.

After a few minutes, she paused again to catch her breath, panting as she surveyed her surroundings. The top was still far away—too far to reach. She’d never make it.

She studied the large, curved rod. She was almost at a point where if she let go, it might give her enough momentum to swing herself to the other side, but she couldn’t be sure. She considered the idea, contemplating if it would be worth the risk.

Without warning, a large crack rumbled above her.

Her eyes shot upward—a large boulder coming straight for her.

No, no, no. Not yet .

She might not make it to the other side if she let go now. But she had no choice. There was no time to debate. The boulder picked up speed with every second she lingered.

She let go, managing to grab hold of the chain just in time as the large mass fell right where she’d been resting.

And just like that, she took to the sky, free falling into the blue abyss. She maneuvered her legs into a swinging position, trying to make herself more aerodynamic. Gravity dragged her down until, finally, she swung upward, climbing higher and higher. Her outrageous plan might just work.

Despite her hopes, the swing wasn’t enough. As soon as she had reached the height of her swing, she scrambled for the rocky wall to get a handhold. But it was all in vain; her scraping fingers slipped right over the rock.

She plummeted again, losing all control as she spun around in circles.

She swung back and forth until she came to a stop, hanging helplessly by her wrists in the middle of the cove.

The iron clasps dug into her skin from the weight.

Grasping the chain, she tried to alleviate the strain.

She peeked down at the sea of blue below her, her hopes of escaping now utterly ruined.

The tide was rising and the shoreline was almost gone. Fantastic.

She had to bite down on her lip to keep it from quivering. Would they drop her into the water? Did they know she couldn’t swim? She squinted up at the long chain above her, holding her fast. She was too exhausted to even consider pulling herself up.

How long she hung there, she didn’t know. Twenty minutes? An hour? The rising tide below was the only proof that time was passing. The cove was full now—the thin crest of sand had all but disappeared.

Without warning, the curved iron contraption groaned, dropping her toward the water. She gripped the chain in terror, gasping. The force jolted her towards the water, but just as swiftly as it had begun, it stopped.

She winced at the sudden impact on her wrists. A sinking pit grew within her stomach. The action proved they wanted to send her into the water. She was certain they were somewhere watching her, reveling in her fear, hoping she’d die and they’d be rid of her and all of their worries.

After what seemed like ages, her arms threatened to give out.

She wasn’t sure how much longer she could carry on like this.

She winced from the strain of her chains, her arms threatening to pop out of their sockets at any moment.

Blood began to trickle down her arms from the iron clasps digging into her wrists.

She prayed to the lost city above that her mother wasn’t watching.

She didn’t think things could get much worse until she noticed a strange ripple in the water.

Rose’s heart stopped mid-beat. Maybe it was her imagination running wild from the blood loss. She strained her eyes. Another massive ripple ran across the water. Just below the surface, a scaled creature glided through the water.

Something was in the water.

Something big.

She suddenly mined a new strength, gripping the chains again as terror took over her body. Perhaps she could try to swing herself towards the curved iron and give herself more time?—

“Rose!” a voice bellowed from above, echoing through the cliffs—a voice intermingled with equal amounts of fear and fury. She knew that voice.