Chapter Twenty-two
he stadium rumbles with the beat of drums, chatter, and ambient noiseT as I enter with the other six Tributes through a massive gate, our warders at our sides. Gabriel wears his thin leather armor, his blond hair tied back from his face and his strong jaw set as we march to the center like we’re facing a firing line of poison-tipped arrows.
The sky is its usual bright blue, and the ground is comprised of pebble- strewn dirt. The stadium is massive, thousands of people crammed into stands that sweep high around us, forming a chanting curtain of bodies. Gabriel had promised one trial would take place in the city and today is the big day. I’ve been told the citizens of Aphelion have been waiting for this. They’re taking bets and will have parties that run well into the night. It’s a holiday and
everyone has been given the day off from their usual work and duties.
I watch as ale sloshes from tankards before carelessly dribbling down
chins, everyone already enjoying themselves to their fullest. The mood is
jovial and exuberant, although one of us might die today. No skin off their noses, I guess. That notion is further driven home as I eye the ominous
contraption squatting in the center of the stadium.
It's made of large wooden beams and is adorned with a series of knives and swords, along with heavy round sacks covered in stitched leather like cheerless Yuletide decorations. The entire monstrosity sits suspended over what appears to be a deep black hole.
“What is it?” I ask Gabriel, my gaze fixed on its glinting edges and clearly
sinister intentions.
“A gauntlet,” he says, his voice grim.
“A what?”
He lets out a deep breath and looks down at me. “It’s an obstacle course.
When they turn it on, those bags will swing and the swords will spin. It’s all designed to throw you off as you try to pass through.”
“And fall in that hole.” I stare at the black void, the pit in my stomach sinking to my feet.
“And fall in that hole,” Gabriel repeats.
“I suppose they don’t mean for anyone to come back out of the hole.”
Gabriel opens his mouth and then closes it, and that’s when a ferocious
snarl rips through the stadium. Every chattering voice clips off, thousands of wary glances exchanged before they all turn to the shadowy pit. I swallow the bile rising in my throat and catch Halo’s gaze as we share a moment of
mutual terror.
“I’m going to die,” I whisper.
“Probably,” Gabriel says, and I shoot him a dirty look.
“You could at least pretend you have some faith in me.”
Gabriel smirks. He’s deigned to speak to me in more than single syllables
again, but it’s clear he isn’t campaigning for a spot in the Lor fan club.
“Come now, Tribute. We both know you’re too smart to fall for that.” I
narrow my eyes, not entirely sure if I’ve just been insulted or complimented.
“You’re such a dick,” I mutter, turning my attention back to the gauntlet as
Gabriel chuckles.
“So you’ve said.”
The chatter has resumed, though the overall volume is more subdued, as if the gravity of this event has finally penetrated their indifferent walls. It cuts
off completely when a horn trumpets and the gate at the end of the stadium opens. This time it’s Atlas with his entire retinue, who enter to a round of clapping and cheers. He offers a curt bow to the crowd, that beautiful smile on his face before he makes his way to the dais on the opposite side of the stadium.
It’s been a few days since our dinner on the beach and I can’t stop thinking about how good it felt to be admired by him. We spent the rest of the evening in the ocean, swimming until the stars came out. While we kissed many more times, that’s as far as Atlas allowed it to go again. I haven’t seen him since he said goodbye to me in the tent and Gabriel escorted me to my room, throwing me scathing looks and generally being an ass.
Atlas sent me an enormous bouquet of golden roses the next morning with a handwritten note that read, Thank you for a wonderful evening. I can’t wait to do it again soon. The gesture warmed me straight through, like I’d swallowed a ball of sunlight. No one this important, this powerful, this beautiful, has ever made an effort for me. It was like he genuinely cared what
I felt and thought.
As Atlas and his people make their way through the stadium, I look over to Apricia, who, as usual, is flipping her hair and primping for the king. He
looks over at us, smiling, his gaze lingering on her for a moment longer than the rest. As much as it hurts, I remind myself not to get carried away with his
attention. This is a contest and I’m just one of many contestants. The one least likely to win, at that.
Apricia tosses a smug look to the rest of us and I wonder what’s between them. Did he also taste the place between her thighs? Did he refuse her touches, too? I shake my head, trying to rally my focus. I have a challenge to master and not dying is my priority right now.
Master Borthius is speaking, his voice amplified for the massive crowd, who dangle on the edge of every word. We are to make our way through the gauntlet, attempting to do so without being knocked off. If we land on the floor of the stadium, we’re disqualified. The good news, though, is we live to see another day.
However, if we fall into the pit, we become dinner for the thogrul that lurks below. As if to punctuate Master Borthius’s statement, the monster roars again, shaking the entire stadium.
I’ve faced down so many foes in my lifetime, but these challenges are testing every resolve I have. Nothing in my past has prepared me for this. My limbs trembling, I take a deep breath, trying to calm my pounding heart.
A moment later, the six other Tributes and I are ushered to the far end of the arena. Today, everyone wore their thin leather armor, leggings and jerkins, and boots. No one would make that mistake again.
There are some more announcements I don’t hear as I study the contraption before me. It stands like a great, feral spider made of timber. The
first obstacle includes a long beam with a series of swinging arms above it.
On the end of each arm is a giant tear-shaped pillow made of stitched leather.
Clearly, they’re meant to knock us off as they swing back and forth in opposite directions with the rhythm of a metronome.
Apricia moves to the front of the line. Her long hair is now cinched into a high ponytail, and I guess she does own a hair tie after all. That doesn’t stop her from flicking the end over her shoulder and casting a disdainful glance my way.
We have one hour. If we make it through the gauntlet in time, we’ll move on to the third challenge. If we don’t, we’re out.
Rolling my shoulders, I dig into the reserves of my resilience. I can do this.
None of these Tributes deserve this prize more than I do.
The signal sounds for the game to begin and Apricia wastes no time scrambling to the top of the high platform. We can only go one at a time, so I understand why she’s bullied her way to the front. However, I hang back, deciding it might be best to watch the others and learn from their mistakes.
Apricia stands on the end of the narrow beam, one foot placed in front of the other. She holds her arms out like an acrobat and then steels herself, running past the first pendulum and coming to a stop, waiting for her next opening. She continues in the same vein, clearing the next two pendulums with ease. On the fourth and last, she stumbles, her foot slipping off the
beam, and a collective gasp races through the stadium. But she’s clearly well- trained, and she recovers easily, lightly stepping off the end onto the far platform.
I let out a breath of relief. Not because I’m worried about Apricia, but because I’m heartened that making it across is actually possible.
Apricia’s friend Hesperia is next. She too clears the obstacle, moving on to the next one. I wait my turn as Tesni and Halo both make it across. Then it’s my turn. I stand at the end of the beam in a crouch, my arms out, and then run
through the first pendulum, but I don’t stop. From watching the others, it’s obvious that if I find the right rhythm, I can keep going without the stops and
starts that might cause me to lose my balance. It’s a risk, but I’m already falling behind.
Tempering my pace, I calculate the swing of the next pendulum and continue, clearing the second and then the third. I’m not sure if it’s Gabriel’s training or the years in Nostraza that have taught me to focus, but I lose myself in the machine's cadence and before I know it, I’m at the end.
As I alight on the platform, I nearly collapse in relief, my limbs as limp as flowers in a winter garden. Panting, I close my eyes, my hands on my knees as I try to settle my breathing. A shriek pierces the air, and I spin around to find Griane clinging to one of the pendulums, her legs and arms wrapped around it as she screams. Her blonde hair floats as if weightless at the peak of each swing.
I study the next obstacle, which is a spinning column of swords and knives.
Apricia has already cleared it and Hesperia is currently maneuvering her way to the other side. I should keep going. This is a contest. The other Tributes aren’t my responsibility, and Griane is a bitch.
Griane screams again, and the thogrul in the pit below roars louder. I can
practically hear it licking its lips in excitement as it scents its delicious meal.
I drop to my knees on the platform and lean out to Griane.
“You need to jump off when it’s at the highest point,” I yell. There's no chance she can get off the end of the pendulum without falling into the pit, but there’s a chance she could clear the hole and land on the stadium floor if
she lets go at the right moment.
I scream at her again. “Griane, you have to jump before you fall off!” She meets me with a terrified gaze as she registers what I’m saying. Tears stream
down her lovely face and she shakes her head. I see her mouth the words, I can’t.
“You have to! If you don’t, you’re going to fall in.” I watch the pendulum, gauging its path. “I’m going to count to three and then you jump as far as you can! Do you understand me?” Griane says nothing, scrambling against the leather bolster as her grip slips. She won’t be able to hold on much longer.
“Griane!” She nods then, her eyes wide and her white skin ashen.
“Okay. I’ll count you through it. Ready? One… Two…” I wait for the
pendulum to reach its zenith and then scream, “Three!”
Griane must dig into the very depths of her courage as she heeds my order, letting go and hurling her body into the air. There’s a collective gasp as she arcs into the sky, time standing still as she traces the curving line to her safety. It’s so close, I fear she won’t make it. I squeeze my fists, my body mimicking her path as I will her over the chasm.
She lands with a crash, just her feet hanging over the edge. She screams as she lands, clutching her arm. The crowd is screaming at her, too. To get up.
To clear the rest of the hole before the thogrul reaches up and snatches her.
She drags herself forward and then collapses in a heap. The crowd chants their support, cheers filling the air.
I press my hand to my chest and blow out a breath. But I have to keep moving, so I steel myself for the next obstacle.
A dozen long swords revolve on a slowly spinning cylinder. Tesni is currently clearing it, her body folding and bending over the blades. After she’s done, her face is gleaming with a sheen of sweat and she’s covered in
small slices, tiny trickles of blood dripping down her arms and legs.
As I prepare for my turn, a scream from above draws my attention.
A body is plummeting through the center of the gauntlet. It looks like one
of Apricia’s sidekicks, Hesperia. The flash of her bright red hair seems to signal a warning as her body crashes into another wooden platform before
she bounces off, her arms and legs flailing.
She continues dropping with a wild shriek before tumbling down, down, down into the pit below.
