Chapter Twenty-three
ilence resonates through the stadium, the crowd looking on in shock asS Hesperia’s last scream slices off with an echo. A moment later, the unmistakable sounds of bones crunching and flesh slapping and teeth shredding fill the air. I don’t move, suspended in horror. In time. In the remnants of Hesperia’s last cries. Another Tribute is dead.
I scan the layers of the gauntlet, finding Halo and Tesni on the platforms above. Our gazes meet as the grim understanding of everything that’s at stake filters in through the cracks of my resolve.
There are moments when we’re surrounded by the decadence of Aphelion when it’s easy to forget why we’re really here. When I recall my dinner with Atlas, I was so distanced from the bitter reality of my true purpose. I was a
fool in a dream, and I need to remember they brought me here against my will to die in a contest I never entered.
A bell dings, reminding me there will be time to mourn Hesperia later. One quarter of our time has passed. Time to get moving.
Squaring my shoulders, I face down the spinning blades, mapping out a path. When I was in Nostraza, I had to fight weaponless against the guards’ swords countless times. Years ago, there was an incident when four of those assholes surrounded me, taunting me, while they swiped their blades and laughed. They nicked my skin while I dodged and leaped, forced to posture for their entertainment. I survived then, and I will survive now.
The crowd is already cheering again, the crescendo swelling as the gruesome sounds of the monster feasting on Hesperia’s body continue to fill the air. I let out a dry sob, clutching my stomach and willing myself not to vomit.
Murmuring a desperate prayer to Zerra, I clench my fists and run. Duck.
Spin. Jump. Spin again. Leap. Duck. Over and over, I focus on the flash of each blade as they come at me with the precision of an assassin’s knife.
Pain. Distantly, it registers in my left thigh. My teeth grind together as I push it away. Focus, I remind myself, and then I’m nearly through. Jump.
Step. Duck. Spin. My foot catches a blade just before I make the final leap and I collapse on the far side, groaning.
For several heartbeats, all I can do is lie on the sun-warmed planks, trying to bottle the threadbare sips of my breath. But then pain lances through my leg like I’m being whipped by fire. I’m bleeding. A lot. A blade has sliced clean through my pants, carving a deep gash into the meaty part of my thigh.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
My movements stilted, I tear off the sleeve of the thin white shirt under my jerkin and wrap the fabric around my leg, tying a snug knot. It won’t hold long, but it’ll have to do.
Thankfully, my foot appears to be fine where a sword caught my exit.
There’s a slice in the leather of my boot, but it stopped just short of breaking
my skin. A small mercy, at least.
The bell dings, its metallic chime cheerfully counting down to the moment of my expiration. Half my time is up. I have to keep moving.
Gingerly, I rise, testing my injured leg. Pain sears up my thigh, blooming into my ribs and my shoulder when I take a step. Wincing, I press my lips together, sweat beading on my forehead. The figures of other Tributes move
above me like ants, racing back and forth. Pushing on, I limp forward, climbing a wobbly rope ladder and coming face to face with the narrow beam that sent Hesperia to her death. Going slowly feels like a smart strategy this time.
Carefully, I place one foot on the beam, bouncing to test its strength and ignoring the lash of pain in my leg. It’s solid and doesn’t shift under my weight. Focusing on the beam that’s about the width of my foot, I ease myself forward, my arms out to steady my balance. I try to shut out every sound. Every distraction.
The crowd is getting drunker now, the noise bloating like an inflating bubble pressing in on me from all sides. Zerra, I wish everyone would shut
the fuck up. I try not to think of Atlas watching me below, nor of Gabriel with that smug smile I want to slap off his face.
Another step and then another as I shuffle towards the center of the beam.
Gabriel had me do balance drills for hours this week. Did he know something? Or is this standard training for soldiers? Either way, I owe him
my gratitude, even if he is the world’s biggest asshole.
High above the stadium floor, the wind challenges my stability, cooling my warm cheeks. My leg throbs with each step and my leggings are soaked with
my blood.
Focus, Lor.
After another few steps, I’m almost two-thirds of the way across.
“Lor!” someone shouts my name and I blink, willing myself to steadiness.
Ignore it. Keep going. “Lor! Help!” the voice shouts again, and it sounds just like Willow. A memory surfaces of Willow being beaten by a guard while she screamed for me, and I make a fatal error, searching for the sound. It’s not her. Of course it isn’t, but it’s enough to break my concentration, causing
my foot to slip. The second one also slides out from under me and I drop, the beam slamming between my thighs with a shudder that ricochets up my spine.
I cry out in agony as pain radiates out through my torso and down my legs, spreading like a fungus. It takes me a moment to register that the world is tilting at the wrong angle. I’m sliding off. I hurl my body forward, wrapping my arms around the beam just as I spin beneath it. Now I’m hanging off it like a sloth in a tree, my legs and arms clenched around the wood.
Below me, the monster roars with such ferocity that its hot, fetid breath envelops me in a cocoon of its bloodthirsty longing. Its appetite is whetted, and it’s anticipating another snack.
The wound on my leg drums like it has its own heartbeat. I’m losing blood, my limbs weak and trembling. I have to get myself turned around. Squeezing my eyes shut, I suck in deep, measured breaths. I want to cry and scream out my terror, but there will be time for that later.
I hope.
Steeling my quivering limbs, I hoist myself closer to the beam, my arms and legs screeching their vocal protest. I have no idea how to do this other than through sheer grit. So I shut out the pain and do just that. With every
ounce of strength I can rally, I use my arms to crane my upper body to the side of the beam. Grating my teeth, I use my legs to do the same, attempting
to twist myself around. My vision goes dark for a moment when I move my injured leg, but I force myself to stay awake. If I faint, then I’m done.
Goodbye, Lor.
But I don’t have enough power. I’m not sure this is even within the realm of physical possibility. My leg slips and I scream before I fling it back up and then with the mightiest lunge I can muster, hoist myself again. I’m not sure
how I do it and if anyone were to ask, I could only tell them I felt Zerra’s divine hand find its way to my back and offer me a gentle shove.
But there I am, back on top, about to weep with relief.
After I get myself righted, I cling to the beam with my legs and arms like a crab. My chest is so tight I can hardly breathe and my leg is so drenched in blood I can hear the slick sound it makes as I slide myself along the wood.
Like an inchworm, I shuffle my upper body and then my lower body forward.
I don’t dare stand, worried I’ll lose my balance if I try. The laughter from the stands confirms that I look ridiculous. I glare at no one and everyone, angry I’m here.
Fuck these people. Fuck this entire demeaning experience.
Finally, I make it to the far platform. Cringing in pain, I push myself up and face the next obstacle. It's another cylinder that rises from the next platform, fitted with small protruding handholds intended for climbing.
Halo stands at the base, studying the surface. She watches me limp over, her gaze dropping to the scarlet makeshift bandage on my leg and then to my
face, her lips set in a determined line. She seems to be in better shape than I am, with only a few cuts and bruises on her cheeks and arms.
“Are you okay?” I ask, my voice ragged as I grimace through the ache in
my leg.
“Better than you, I think,” she replies softly.
“Why are you just standing here?”
Indecision flickers in her expression, and she opens her mouth to speak when the bell dings again. Three quarters of our time is up.
“Come on,” I say. “We need to keep going.”
I latch on to the highest handhold I can reach and pull myself up. When I’ve climbed a few feet, I look down at Halo, who’s watching me with a
guarded expression.
“Coming?” I ask, not sure what she’s waiting for. She wrings her hands and then looks behind her as if searching for something. She then turns back and I frown. Something clears in her eyes and she shakes her head before she grabs a handhold and hoists herself onto the wall.
“Right behind you,” she says, and I nod. We continue ascending, following the path of the footholds as they circle around the pillar. As we get closer to the top, they get further and further apart, testing the limits of our abilities.
Halo stays next to me the whole time. It feels good to be doing this with someone. The entire experience of the Trials has me surrounded by people every minute of the day, but I’ve never felt more alone in my entire life.
We speak little, too busy concentrating on our movements, but there’s something about Halo’s quiet, steady presence that grounds me. When I get to the top, I scramble over the ledge in relief. Spinning around, I lie flat on the platform and reach down to help Halo up the rest of the way. My fingers are raw and red, and my limbs are shaking. I think the wound on my leg has
slowed its bleeding, at least for now.
“Lor,” she whispers as she approaches from below, an unreadable expression on her face. “I need you to help me out of this competition.”
“What?” I ask, sure I’ve misheard her. “Why?”
She shakes her head, her dark eyes filling with tears. “I don’t want to do
this anymore.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I can’t explain right now. Lor, I’m going to pretend to slip. You try to catch me, okay?” She looks down at the ground below us.
This is crazy. What is she talking about?
But before I can question what she’s thinking, she does as she says and
slips. She slides a few inches down the wall, catching a lower foothold. I don’t know if she’s changed her mind or if she’s just acting, but she keeps sliding down and screams. I don’t try to catch her. Instead, I do catch her, my hand snagging her wrist just as she’s about to drop.
“Halo!” I scream as she dangles from my hand, my other one gripping the platform for purchase. I inch out over the edge to get a better hold, using my other hand to ground me against the motion of her swinging body inching me forward.
“Let go!” she yells. “Pretend I slipped. I’m going to jump to the floor.”
We’re high enough that she’d likely break a leg, but at least she’d survive.
But the monster’s black pit sits directly beneath us, and the distance is too
great. Maybe if she took a running leap, she might clear it. But if I drop her, she’s going to fall into that hole.
“No,” I grit out, her skin sliding against mine, both our palms coated in sweat. “Are you crazy? You’re never going to make it.”
“Lor,” she begs. “Please.”
I firm my grasp on her and look her straight in the eyes. “I don’t know what this is about or why you want to stop, but you cannot do this. If I let go, you’re going to die. It’s too far for you to jump. Halo. Please. Help me haul
you up.” Her weight drags me forward, threatening to send us both over the edge. The ground spins and I grunt. “Halo!”
Her dark eyes become worried as she finally looks down and then around her. I see the moment she seems to understand what I’m saying. Her eyes close as though she’s resigning herself to some unwelcome fate I don’t comprehend. She says nothing as she uses a foot to grip the wall and boosts herself up. I pull with all my waning strength and tow her onto the platform.
As we both pause to catch our breath, she doesn’t meet my eyes. I don’t
admonish her for this stupid move that nearly just got us both killed.
Something tells me she feels bad enough already. When I feel like I can stand, I say to her, “Let’s go.”
Time must be running out and sure enough, the bell dings, signalling our final minutes. Thankfully, there is only one obstacle left, and that’s a fox run.
A long rope stretches out over the stadium floor, ending at the far end, where I can make out several figures watching us. A group of pulleys waits tethered to a post.
I grab Halo by the arm and shove her towards one. “Get on.” I’m not leaving her up here alone where she can make another reckless decision. The bell dings again, marking one minute remaining. “Hurry!” I snap at her, no
longer in the mood for her dithering. If she gets me thrown out so close to the end, I’ll never forgive her. What was she thinking?
She does as I ask, casting me an anxious look. As soon as she’s holding the device, I give her a hearty shove off the platform and she zips away, accompanied by the drone of the pulley sliding along the rope.
I waste no time readying my own. Clinging to the handles, I take a deep breath. My arms are so tired, I hope I can hang on until the end. The bell dings. Thirty seconds left. I heave back on the pulley and then take a running
leap, hurling myself into the air with a battle cry that rips from the center of my chest.
My hands are throbbing and slip against the wooden handles. I grip them so tight my fingers ache. The pulley picks up speed, my heart racing as my legs flail. This is terrifying. I’m going so fast my heart leaps into my throat.
Wind fills my mouth, making it hard to breathe.
The crowd is chanting the final seconds now.
Ten! Nine! Eight!
I’m so close. So close. The ground races towards me.
Seven! Six! Five!
I’m not going to make it. I’m too far away. I will myself to keep my eyes
open. I want to bear witness to my end.
Four!
Three!
Two!
My feet slam into the ground over the finish line and I go stumbling forward, crashing to my knees and landing face-first into the dirt just as the crowd shrieks so loud it shakes the very earth beneath me.
OOOOOONE!
