Page 43 of Veiled Flames (Destiny of Dragons #1)

Thirty

Rosomon

N arrowly missing the flames, I land on the far side of the final fire-breathing crevice. The flames shot all the way across this one so there was no way to swerve to avoid them. But as I held the rope, I tucked up my legs and used my arms to pull myself higher, as fire scorched my backside.

Grateful I wasn’t burnt alive, I dive into a dark tunnel, crawling forward quickly and staying alert in case something comes flying at me from the sides.

The tunnel is cylindrical, and the acrid smell of singed leather fills the air, but there’s no time to consider whether my backside is now exposed, or whether some of the burned skin smell is my own.

Something clanks, metal on metal.

The tunnel turns, tossing me to the right.

I land hard, then I’m pulled up its side and tossed down again.

Regaining my bearings, I crawl forward quickly, angling myself against the direction of the rolling tunnel. Its surface has ridges. They dig into my hands and knees but also help me to grip. I’m getting the hang of this.

The speed of the rolling increases.

My body flies up and drops hard, but I adjust, crawling almost sideways against the roll, hoping to avoid being tossed again as I progress forward.

In the total darkness, something wet brushes my face, and I startle at the disgusting texture that’s now under my hands and knees and brushing my face.

This part of the tunnel is filled with long strands of some damp material.

It’s repulsive, but I continue and soon push through a gap in a heavy curtain.

Standing, I blink to adjust my eyes to the light. Another tunnel lies to my left, one tall enough for me to walk through. But as I approach, a door closes its entrance. Before I can look for a handle or lock, the floor beneath me starts to spin.

I spread my legs as the floor turns, speeding up as it rotates.

I crouch down, tucking my head, hoping it will help with the inevitable dizziness.

My brothers and I used to play a game where we’d put our foreheads on a long stick, run circles around it, and then laugh at each other as we tried to walk a straight line.

I well know the dizziness this spinning is bound to produce.

The rotations slow, and I stand. The door to the tunnel is once again open, but my head is still spinning.

And instead of a floor, the tunnel has a narrow beam above a very deep cavern.

It’s impossible to see what lies below, but falling off this beam could mean death.

I spot a ladder at the side coming out of the depths.

That indicates it could be possible to survive a fall, but it would add a great deal of time to my finish.

I step onto it, considering how long I should wait to regain my balance. Speed counts too.

I hear a thump and then shouts from Egon behind me. He’s entered the rolling tunnel. The rules say that, if he catches up with me before I start any segment of the gauntlet, I must let him pass. No chance will I let Egon ahead of me.

I take two tentative steps forward.

A swoosh of air lifts the hair off my head, as a heavy log crosses in front of me. It comes so close I’m forced to lean back to avoid being knocked off the beam. Ahead in the tunnel, more logs swing across, and I pause, trying to spot a pattern. This time, there is one.

Counting and gauging the distances between each swinging log, I let the sequence play out three times before starting again. I didn’t come this far to be knocked off this beam.

I take three steps forward. The first swinging log passes behind me, just as another swings ahead. I pity candidates like Egon whose bodies are thicker. These first two logs were positioned very close together, swinging back and forth about four counts from each other.

I wait for the second to swing past again, then rush forward beyond the third. Once there, I stop abruptly, knowing the fourth will swing past almost immediately.

It swoops in front of me, nearly knocking me off balance, but then I step forward, easily getting past the final three and out of the tunnel.

The next section is the rope I saw Tynan and Burchard climb. Knowing I’ll need my legs to push off the silvered glass wall to avoid the arrows, I climb using only my arms. Rope climbing without legs is more difficult than I expect, especially after all I’ve endured these past days.

Both my arms and back scream in protest, and my hands burn from the rough rope.

I consider wrapping my legs around it for relief, but spot the first arrow coming toward me.

Pushing off the glass with one foot, I swing to the side.

The arrow misses me. Using my legs, I stop my swing and keep climbing.

Another flaming arrow flies toward me, and then another. I avoid them all but can’t hold onto this rope for much longer. I dare not look up from the silvered glass to see how much farther I need to go.

My hand strikes what feels like leather. I shift it from the rope to find stone. I’m at the top.

But now I need to get myself off the rope and onto the narrow ledge.

Trusting there won’t be any more arrows, I wrap my legs around the rope.

Using my legs to assist my arms, and digging deep for energy stores, I push down on the platform and will myself to ignore the pain in my shoulders, in my back and arms, all of them protesting that they have nothing left.

I hoist myself onto the platform.

My body is trembling from overexertion, and I’m so lightheaded it’s hard to see.

This ledge is very high, and only a few spans wide.

And I remember that slabs of rock will shoot out as I progress.

It’s dark up here. The area is shaded from the light that comes through the roof’s opening, and the wall is black.

Below me, I hear what sounds like a splash. Is there water beneath that beam? If Egon fell, there’s no risk he’ll pass me before this section.

I wait a few moments. Nothing happens. I take three tentative steps forward, wondering if my steps will be what triggers the thrusting stones.

There must be a pattern. Some kind of clue.

Surely this gauntlet isn’t designed to kill at random.

This gauntlet is meant to test courage and skill, not luck.

Taking more careful steps, I move forward.

Something clicks, and I spot a slight groove in the wall just ahead. I step back as a large slab of stone shoots out over the ledge. I lean back, and it barely misses me.

Continuing, I keep my eyes and ears open and manage to hear and spot every opening before the stone shoots out.

There must be people behind the wall, waiting to trigger the stones when I get near. That’s the only explanation I can fathom, but at least the mechanism they use has an audible catch.

At the end of the ledge, I jump forward and grab onto the pole. My hands burn as I slide down it more quickly than seems safe or wise. But my arms refuse to slow my descent.

I land so hard my teeth crunch together, making me dizzy again. But I step away from the pole, ready to face whatever perilous test awaits in another area we couldn’t see from above.

Ahead, I spot the rope ladder that leads up to a platform from which I can leap to the first of the high bars Tynan swung across. But the bottom rung of the ladder is too far up to grab. Too far for any of us, not just me.

To the left lies a pile of rocks and boulders. Am I meant to pile them?

Seeing no other way, I quickly start moving the largest rocks, using my entire body to carry the biggest ones that I dare. Then I start tossing smaller ones on top of the base. Soon, I have a precarious pile.

I hear a grunt and, glancing up, I spot Egon dangling from one of the protruding stones. I suck in a breath. But he manages to get himself back onto the ledge and continue. I can’t waste time watching him.

I stare at the rocks I piled, wondering if it’s high enough, and also if Egon will be allowed to use the fruits of my labor. If so, starting first was not the advantage I thought. But there’s nothing I can do about that now.

I race forward and scramble up my pile of rocks. Some of them tumble back down beneath me, but I leap off the top and catch the bottom rung of the ladder with one hand. I pull up and crook one elbow over the bottom rung so I can raise myself high enough to climb the unstable ladder.

Below me, five of the senior candidates are quickly undoing my rock pile, moving them back to where they were.

On the platform at the top of the ladder, I study the series of bars ahead. They lead down toward the floor and the final bow and arrow challenge. The first bar seems too far away from where I am now to grab. I have no choice. There is no turning back.

Taking a running leap of faith I fly through the air.

My hands smack the bar, and I grab hold. My fingers threaten to slip, but I hang on and get a bit of a swing from the momentum. Arching my body, I swing two more times to build up my height. And then I release.

Flying again, I easily grab the next bar.

This isn’t that different than swinging from branches of owk trees in the forest. In fact, in some ways it’s easier, because the bars lack bark. But should I miss one, the fall is much farther and lacks the soft underbrush of the forest.

Trusting my instincts and timing, I continue down the series of bars, only becoming aware of the cheers, when I land in a crouch on the floor.

I’m almost done.

I sling a quiver of ten arrows onto my back and grab the bow. Pausing, I quickly test its spring and weight, learning the weapon, before selecting my first arrow.

Ahead of me targets appear, bobbing and swinging. I line up my first shot. A ball of fire flies toward me. Keeping my focus on the moving target, I duck under the fireball, releasing the arrow as I rise.

My arrow connects.

I don’t take time to consider whether or not I made a direct hit. Instead, I reload, dodge another ball of fire, and shoot again. Then again and again as the platform shifts and fire flies toward me. A bell sounds, and cheers rise from above.

I’m finished.

A senior candidate beckons to me from the side, and I get down from the platform and stagger toward him. As soon as I can focus, I realize there are more senior candidates here too. They are the one shooting balls of fire.

After several minutes, Egon arrives at the target area, panting, his face red and sweaty and his clothing wet, confirming he survived a fall off that beam.

He picks up his bow, and just as he’s cocking his first arrow, one of the senior candidates lines up a large slingshot and aims a ball of fire toward him.

“Look out,” I shout.

Egon turns and jumps back. One second later and he would have been burned.

His eyes wide, Egon blinks, in what looks like an acknowledgement of my help, and then he aims his arrow and shoots.

He misses his target.

One of the candidates leans in toward me. “Don’t warn him. It’s not fair.” Taking me by the shoulders the senior turns me around so I can’t watch. Then he leads me toward the platform that lifted Tynan and Burchard from the floor to the viewing gallery.

“Well done,” the senior says as he positions me in the center of the platform. “I’ve never seen anyone do so well on their first gauntlet run.”

Pride rises in my chest, and then the platform starts to rise too. There is nothing to hold on to, and my ascent is at once terrifying and exciting. But, if I’m to become a dragon rider, this precarious trip will be nothing.