Page 138 of Of Bargains & Betrayal

The frigid water sliced into every inch of me like a thousand knives and forced all the air from my lungs as I slipped just below the surface. Despite the tension that grabbed my muscles immediately, threatening to cramp my limbs into uselessness, I forced myself into movement.

Short sweeps at first, just to breach the surface and carry me almost no distance at all, as I took the most controlled breaths I could, working my lungs back up to capacity. With how deep the lantern was, I’d need as much air as I could hold to get there and back.

From above, I must’ve looked like an injured frog as I fought across the frigid lake in short bursts, but I wasn’t worried about a critique of my form.

As if any of the spectators could’ve handled seconds in this frigid water without panicking right to a watery grave, with the weight of their soaked clothing pulling at them and every muscle in their body fighting them.

Even with how thin the fabric of my training layers were, it felt like I had another body wrapped around mine, fighting every movement I made.

When I was finally close enough to the submerged arch to ease a sliver of my internal protest, I tipped my face up and forced three painfully deep breaths in and out of my lungs. Against the chatter of my teeth, I held the fourth breath and sank under the water.

To my disappointment, but not surprise, the biting temperature only worsened as each flutter of my feet drove me deeper into the lake.

The light dimmed a little too, filling my periphery with pressing darkness, but my eyes were fixed on that damned lantern.

When I made it to the stone archway, crumbling and littered with carved runes, my lungs gave their first flicker of protest—a wisp of an ache that told me to get my ass moving. My numb fingers fumbled a bit with the latch to free the lantern, but I got the damned thing in my hand and kicked with absolute fury for the surface.

CRACK.

Above me, the sheets shifted in a violent wave. Pieces crashed into each other, pulling in from all directions, and I realized too slowly what was happening. The light beyond the surface of the water clouded over, and my heart slammed against my ribs.

Solid ice. No opening. No air.

I swam toward it anyway, slamming my hand against the unmovable ice as panic exploded through my chest. My field of vision was limited, but ice sprawled as far as I could see.

I struck the ice again. Again. Again.

It did not want to yield, but I was a far more stubborn creature.

If a massacring fire at the hand of my own damned brother hadn’t taken me out, neither would water so reminiscent of my home. My lungs screamed for air, and a wisp of darkness wavered on the edge of my eyes, but I put everything into punching the ice once more.

The water itself shuddered, and cracks spider-webbed out from my fist.

Dark spots in my eyes multiplied as I struck the ice again. It gave way a little more, and on my next desperate hit, the cracks finally shattered through to the surface as something that couldn’t have been my failing body propelled me upwards. Air slammed into my chest as I crested the water, fighting away chunks of ice and coughing violently enough to make my ribs ache.

“Fuck you,” I rasped at the lantern as I tossed it toward the shore, shattering it in the process and sending the last pillar of nytefire streaking up into the sky.

The stadium erupted.

Raucous applause broke out in the stadium like the boom of a violent storm, sending a wave rippling across the glacial lake.

Fickle fucking spectators.

They would’ve been just as ravenous to see me drown.

With the last dredges of my rapidly fleeting energy, I hauled my frozen body onto the surface of the ice and crawled across the last stretch to the rocky shore inch by goddess-damned inch. My legs wanted nothing to do with supporting my weight and my soaked-through clothing, but I fought my way up, chest heaving, and staggered towards the exit platform. The few steps up took a short eternity to climb, and I nearly lost my footing at the top when the arena shuddered again and a gust whipped around me.

When I braved a glance over my shoulder, the alpine landscape had vanished.

My clothing was still sopping wet, though, and my hands still dripped blood at my feet. Funny how the illusion couldn’t possibly extend to any of my comforts either, and I had a sinking feeling it was only going to get worse.

A woman I did not recognize emerged from the doors that led back into the arena’s underbelly. A shifter, if I had to guess, based on her light-brown skin, copper hair, and cream-colored draped layers. Most notably, she did not have the towel or change of clothes I really could’ve used at that moment.

“If you’ll just follow me, please.” She swept her hand back inside the doors, and it wasn’t like I had much choice but to follow her in as I tried to wring some of the ice water from my clothes and hair with little success.

We traveled a short distance down an uncomfortably narrow hall, filled only by the echo of our footsteps, before spilling out into a common area. The woman veered to the right, cast a glance back to make sure I was still following her, and slipped through a small side door.

Before I’d even fully crossed through the threshold behind her, the ever-comforting sound of dry heaving greeted me.