Page 137 of Of Bargains & Betrayal

“Was that a yes?” I’d well and truly lost my mind. “Please, just give me a hint. A direction? Anything?”

Something thudded to my left, and my eyes snapped over.

The cairn just two over shuddered, and a stone rolled free from it.

No. Fucking. Way.

Had the arena just listened?

I scrambled over and ripped the stones apart just enough to expose the top of the glass lantern and nearly sobbed with relief. The closest chunk of shale served as my hammer, shattering the dome and sending another streak of nytefire into the sky.

One to go.

Still, the crowd was silent, and I was too fucking tired to care if it was magic dampening them, or if they were just that apathetic to my success.

I wiped my face on my sleeve and continued across the meadow. Towards the furthest end, the pine trees that bordered the grass sprawled inward and grew denser. An easy slope led me into them and their gently rustling boughs and rich scent. The more I walked through the unassuming quiet, the more tension crept up my spine. I half expected a sick shifter to launch out from behind a tree at any moment and maul me to pieces.

But the attack never came.

I descended farther down a winding but delicately sloped path flanked by steep embankments and dense trees, working on catching my breath in the pine-rich air.

Since my first two legs had been manageable, if only a little frustration-inducing, I knew with certainty that my last stage was going to be awful. Eilir had told me this entire gauntlet would be unassuming but demanding, and I could feel that culmination coming deep in my bones.

This was, after all, a tournament meant to separate the boys from the men, so to speak, and it would be foolish to think that principle wouldn’t apply to the very first event. Confirmation came when the tranquil pathway I traveled opened into a deep basin and an immaculate glacial pool of the most incredible aquamarine blue.

All that lay across it was the platform that would lead me out of the arena—the illustrious finish line.

31

YOU’VE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME

ENORA

While I was a strong swimmer, I also knew firsthand how dangerous mountain water was—the way it held your body in the grip of its frigid claws; the way it stole the air from every crevice of your lungs; the way it made your heart stammer.

The frosty wind whipping off the surface of the lake and making my entire body tense served as a clear enough reminder of what was to come.

Sheets of ice drifted across the lake, swathes of white across water of such a crystalline shade, it was mesmerizing. I would’ve appreciated it longer, if not for the view it granted me of my final lantern.

At the furthest side of the basin, tucked at the very bottom, was a stone archway. The lantern was suspended beneath it like a blot of navy ink against glass.

There was no putting off the inevitable any longer.

The first piece of ice took my weight with a slight groan of protest, and I eased my way across its deceptively slick surface with deliberate steps.

Even though I knew I wasn’t in any rush, I had to stop there and remind myself to take a few deep breaths for good measure.

A slight leap carried me to a second section, then to a third, sending my stomach a little farther up my throat, with each slippery landing step jarring my already tense spine.

Halfway across the fourth and most sprawling section, a groan overtook the sound of my blood rushing through my ears, and the ice segments shifted a little too quickly.

As if to say, Fuck You Enora, they all pulled back towards the starting shore and brought me with them, leaving me floundering my arms like a baby bird in a panicked attempt to steady my balance.

My strategy of working across the ice as far as I could and only diving in when I had no other choice vacated quickly.

“Fuck me,” I sighed.

Before I could talk myself out of it, I took a deep breath, stepped off the edge of the ice shelf, and plunged into the lake.